Chapter 11
“Wow, this show is ridiculous.” I was sitting with Hannah on the futon under her lofted bed, watching my second episode ever of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. “It’s so weird. Those computers are, like, gigantic,” I said.
“I know, right? Like, in the best way. Just wait until the third season.” Hannah had her trusty bag of Skittles and I’d brought some M&M’s from the vending machine in the basement of her dorm and I was mixing them in an empty Solo cup. “You know, a lot of the problems on this show could have been resolved by cell phones. But then you wouldn’t have such an entertaining show, so I guess it’s fine the way it is.”
I held my cup out and she poured some more Skittles into it.
“Heard from Dusty?” she said, eyes on the screen.
“Uh, no. He doesn’t have my number, so that’s a negative.”
“Bummer.”
“Do you want me to have heard from him? Because you were acting really weird yesterday.”
“Oh, that? I was just being the protective friend. I wanted to see how he’d respond. A lot of guys get intimidated by a protective friend, and then there’s always the ones you need to watch out for, the guys that are threatened by a girl having friends.”
“Have you known a lot of guys like that?”
“A few. Here and there.” Yeah, there was much more to that story. An asterisk and a lot of footnotes in tiny print. I didn’t think we had passed the friendship milestone where I could interrogate her until she told me about it, so I let it go.
“And the verdict on Dusty?”
“He seems like a nice guy. Cocky, and he might have a dark past he’s trying to hide, or maybe he’s a closet fan of Lord of the Rings, or a hoarder, or obsessed with something weird, but I don’t think he’s a bad guy. Didn’t get that bad-guy vibe. Bad-boy vibe, yes.”
“What’s the difference?”
She paused the show and sighed, brushing her hair away from her face.
“Okay, a bad boy is one that makes you all, like, tingly. He’s dangerous in a good way. A way that makes your heart race and want to ride a motorcycle or go skinny-dipping. A bad guy is one who hurts you, or makes you feel worthless, or isolates you from your friends. He’s just dangerous. Those are the guys to stay away from.”
“Oh.” She seemed to have it all figured out, and I could tell she’d spent a lot of time thinking about bad guys as opposed to bad boys.
“So Dusty is a bad boy.”
“Definitely. Unless you see any red flags. Then you run in the opposite direction.”
“I’m pretty sure if there were any red flags, my sister and the rest of the people I live with wouldn’t let him near me. Hunter wouldn’t be friends with a bad guy.”
“Still. You never know. People aren’t always what they seem. You spend years thinking they’re one way and then something happens and they reveal who they really are.”
“But you can’t go through life thinking that everyone is bad.”
“I don’t. I told you—I trust my instincts.”
We weren’t going to agree, so I dropped it and we went back to watching the show, but I thought a lot about what she’d said about people being bad or good, and trying to tell the difference.
I didn’t think I’d ever met a really bad person. Even my ex and my ex-friends weren’t bad people.
I’d been just like them, and I didn’t think I was a bad person. That guy, Travis, the one who had hurt Taylor, he was a bad guy. I didn’t need to meet him or know anything else about him to know that. But did that mean he would always be bad? Could people change?
I’d changed.
I had so many thoughts running through my head I almost forgot about the engagement dinner and found the house in chaos when I got back from Hannah’s.
Mase was on his hands and knees in the living room, along with Hunter and Darah.
“What do they look like again?” Hunter said, patting his hands on the floor.
“They’re little gold studs. Remember, Taylor gave them to me?” Darah said, closing one eye and putting the side of her face on the floor.
“Right,” Hunter said.
“Found it!” Mase held his hand out to Darah, and she gave him a kiss.
“Thanks, baby.” She stood up and brushed off the front of her black dress and put the earring in her ear.
Both Hunter and Mase had nice dress shirts on and nice pants with dress shoes.
“Where have you been?” Renee said, slipping her heel into her shoe and walking down the steps at the same time. Paul was just behind her, making sure she didn’t take a dive down the stairs. She had one of her best dresses on; green with swirls of black on the hem. Paul was also wearing a green shirt. Oh, no. They’d become one of “those” couples.
“You’re not wearing that,” she said, pointing to my torn jeans and gray thermal shirt.
“I’m sorry. I completely forgot. I’ll go change.” Shit, what was I going to wear? Everything nice was packed away. “I don’t have anything,” I said, biting my lip.
“Are you serious? You used to wear dresses and skirts more than pants.” She put her hands on her hips.
I shrugged. “I don’t have any.”
“Okay, let me think.” She put her fingers to her temples. “I think I have something that you can wear. Come on.” She lunged out, grabbed my arm and dragged me upstairs.
I bumped into Taylor on her way down from the third floor. She had a baby-blue dress that looked like it could have belonged to Audrey Hepburn and her hair was loose around her face.
“Hey, Jos!”
“Wardrobe crisis,” Renee said before yanking me into her room and throwing her closet doors open. Taylor followed, and Darah was right behind her.
A flurry of activity followed, where I wasn’t allowed to talk or say anything. Much like a mannequin.
They held things up to me and messed with my hair. Darah had the best hair skills, so she braided it, starting above my ear on one side of my head and going to the other, making a sort of crown. Back in my previous life, I’d been a big fan of buns, and had slicked my hair back so people could see that I was put together and meant business. Darah let my hair wisp out around my face and pulled a few strands loose.
“There,” she said, putting a few bobby pins in place.
Renee and Taylor were tossing dresses on the floor and finally settled on a sparkly gold party dress with a flared skirt.
“I’m not wearing that,” I said as they started undressing me. “Jesus, can I have some privacy?” I ducked into the closet and pulled the door semishut. I didn’t care about Renee seeing me mostly nude, but it felt weird having the other girls there.
The dress had enough going on the top so it covered my bra, which was good. I adjusted it a little and tried to zip it up in the back, but my arms didn’t move that way.
“Um, can somebody give me a hand?”
Renee hauled me out of the closet and zipped the dress up.
“Perfect!” she said, hooking the clasp at the top of the dress so the zipper wouldn’t come down and cause a wardrobe malfunction. That would be just fantastic.
She spun me around and the other two shoved earrings in my ears and started applying stuff to my face.
“I am not a Barbie,” I said as Taylor swiped something on my eyelids. I was too busy concentrating on not getting poked in the eye to see what color it was.
“You are right now, my dear,” Taylor said, smudging some of the color. Renee was busy looking through her makeup to find a color that would work on me and found some pink lip gloss.
“Yes. Here we go.” She put it on my lips as Taylor tried not to jab my eye out with mascara.
“Isn’t this unsanitary?” I said. “Shouldn’t you be disinfecting that before you stick it near my eye?” Renee was a big proponent of hand sanitizer and disinfecting things and coughing in your elbow.
“Are you saying that you don’t want to share my germs? I mean, you are my sister. Are you saying you’re too good for my germs?” She pretend-glared at me.
“Fine, fine. Am I done yet?” I really wanted to see what they’d done to me. I hoped it wasn’t like when one of my little sisters decided to play dress up and used my face to practice their makeup skills on.
“Just about,” Taylor said, spritzing me with some of Renee’s perfume. Was that a subtle way of telling me that I smelled bad?
“Done,” Renee said, straightening one of the straps of the dress.
“Uh, shoes?” I was still barefoot. Through some miracle of genetics, Renee and I had identical-sized feet, so she shoved some black ballet flats on my feet. I was out of practice when it came to wearing heels. I’d probably fall on my face if I tried.
“Okay, now you’re done,” Renee said.
I turned and looked at myself in Renee’s full-length mirror. I looked like before me, only not. I never would have worn this dress, or done my hair this way, or put that much eye shadow on. Taylor had given me a sultry look that I was pretty sure I could never pull off, but it made me look older and mysterious. That illusion would be shattered the second I opened my mouth.
“What are you doing up there?” Mase yelled up the stairs.
“Making my sister sexy,” Renee yelled back. I gave her a look. “Oh, come on. I couldn’t let you go to a party in your frumpy wear. We should definitely go shopping.” I hated shopping. I’d always pretended to like it back when it had been a social obligation. I was actually thrilled that I didn’t have to do it anymore.
“Yeah, maybe.” I probably wouldn’t have a choice. She’d force me to do it as some sort of sister bonding and attempt to get me back to the way I was. It would take a lot more than putting on my old clothes. Or new clothes that would have worked on the old me.
“Can we go now?” I said, uncomfortable with attention already.
“Let’s go, bitches,” Renee said, whooping. “We have some shit to celebrate!”
* * *
Renee, Paul and I drove to campus to pick up Hannah. I was so glad she’d agreed to go, because I figured a lot of the people there would be upperclassmen that I didn’t know.
“Damn, you clean up good, girl,” Hannah said as she swept into the car, wearing a black shift dress. It was the first time I’d seen her arms bare, and I saw that the burn traveled down her neck and over her arm, as well.
“It’ll be too dark, and most people will be too drunk to notice,” she said, turning her arm back and forth as if she was looking at it for the first time. “Plus, I love this dress and I’m not going to let anything stop me from wearing it.”
She was awesome.
The party was at a house just outside of campus that several of the Steiners rented together. There were already quite a few cars there when Renee pulled up.
“Okay, here’s how this is going to go. If I see a drink in your hand, it better be soda. If I see you talking with any weird guys, someone will step in. You have a lot of eyes on you and this night is about Taylor and Hunter, okay? No shenanigans.”
“Yes, yes. I got it.” I was kind of offended that she’d think that I would try to ruin their special night.
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep her out of trouble,” Hannah said. “I’ve got my eye on you, young lady.” We were the same freaking age.
Renee looked at Hannah and then back at me. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”
The house was already full of people, none of whom I knew, which made me beyond grateful that I at least had Hannah.
Hunter and Taylor were being bombarded with hugs and congratulations and bits of semisober unsolicited advice. Renee and Paul went to join them in the living room along with Megan and Jake as a few of the Steiners serenaded the rest of the room with dirty versions of popular songs.
“Man, I wish I could drink without pissing your sister off. She scares the crap out of me, by the way,” Hannah said.
“Yeah, she has that effect on people.” I scanned the room, looking for anyone that I might know.
“You look nice.” As per usual, Dusty Sharp had sneaked up behind me. I spun slowly, preparing myself for his snarky comments at the change in my attire. What I wasn’t prepared for was to make him momentarily speechless. His eyes widened and scanned me up and down. Twice. He swallowed and made a kind of stuttering noise. Well, that was a first.
“Keep your eyeballs in your head, dude,” Hannah said, stepping in front of me.
“And you look ravishing as well, Hannah Gillespie.” He waved his arm to indicate her dress.
“Nice recovery,” she said, patting his chest. Dusty didn’t look too bad himself. His pants almost fit him and he had a button-up on that was definitely a little tight in the chest region. Not that I paid any attention to it. Or the fact that the shirt clung to his arms, as well. They were...pleasant arms. Very nicely shaped and muscled. The kind of arms that you’d feel safe in, if you tripped. You knew they’d catch you....
“You okay there, Red?” Dusty peered at me as if I’d been staring at him. Shit. I probably had been. No, I definitely had been. “How about I get you ladies something to drink. Nonalcoholic, I promise.”
Dusty saw my hesitation. I didn’t accept drinks from anyone unless I’d poured or opened them myself.
“Trust me, Red. I’ll bring you unopened cans. Tamper proof. Be right back.”
“Smart. I never trust anyone at a party. Not that anyone would want to drug me,” Hannah said. She sounded disappointed, which was a little crazy.
Dusty came back a few minutes later as Hannah and I were trying to figure out a good place to park ourselves.
“A can for you and a can for you and a can for me.” He handed out sweating cans of Coke. “They didn’t have Dr Pepper, sorry.” How did he know I liked Dr Pepper? “I saw you drink it at the house, and at the Sea Dog.” The question was, why did he remember that?
“Now how do I know that you didn’t shake this?” I said, pausing before I popped the top.
“Because I wouldn’t dare do anything to that stunning dress. And I know how you redheads are when you get angry.”
I wanted to shake the can and open it in his face.
“That is a common misconception,” I said through clenched teeth. If I’d heard one redhead joke, I’d heard them all, but everyone seemed to live under the delusion that I’d never heard them before.
“Oh, really? Because I can picture you getting all...fiery.” He stepped closer and I caught a whiff of his cologne. Thankfully, it wasn’t one of those that guys seemed to think it was okay to douse themselves in. It was nice. He also smelled faintly of clean laundry.
Hannah popped her can and took a huge swig.
“You don’t seem like a soda kind of guy—what’s up with that?” she said, pointing at the soda in his hand. He opened it, being sure to point it away from me. How considerate.
“Been there, done that. It wasn’t pretty, that’s for sure.” He wouldn’t look at me when he said it. “More fun, though.” He gazed at the crowd, who was definitely having a good time. Some sort of drinking game was going on in the middle of the room. It was too cramped to play beer pong, but they had cooked up some alternative.
Hannah was studying Dusty with her head to the side. I caught her eye and she shook her head. If she was trying to tell me something, I wasn’t speaking her language. I finally opened the can of soda and took a sip.
* * *
The Steiners put together a little performance, and everyone watched and sang along. Hannah spotted a girl from one of her classes, but didn’t seem to want to go over and talk to her, so we stayed in a corner, talking to Dusty. He left us to go and sing, but always came back, even though several of the guys tried to drag him away or ply him with drinks.
For some reason, he turned them down and talked with us instead. I couldn’t help but laugh as he told us stupid stories about random things. Dusty was one of those infectious people that made you feel good when you were around them. It was easy to see that everyone adored him, and easy to see why he and Hunter had formed their “bromance.” Hunter was like that, too.
“I think he’s into you,” Hannah said during one of the songs when Dusty had left us. “Like, really into you.”
“Well, that doesn’t matter because I’m not into him. At all.”
“Funny, because you’ve been staring at him like you want to finish him like the last piece of cake.” I stared at her and she wiggled her eyebrows. “Tasty, tasty man cake covered in sex frosting.”
“You are disgusting.”
“Or maybe I’m just right.” I had to shush her as Dusty rejoined us.
“So what do you think about those two crazy kids getting hitched?” He pointed toward Hunter and Taylor, who hadn’t let go of each other pretty much the entire time.
“Are you asking me about my feelings on marriage, Dusty?” I said.
“Whoa, Red. Easy there. Just making conversation.”
“I think it’s lovely. I mean, they’re obviously perfect for each other. Some people are like that. Made for each other,” I said.
“Some people are,” Dusty said, but he was looking at me, and I could feel my stupid face and ears going red. I wished sometimes I could wear a hat that would cover my ears so people couldn’t see them broadcasting my emotions.
The marriage conversation was dropped as one of the Steiners started taking bets on if he could sing random songs that people shouted out without making any mistakes. If he made a mistake with a lyric, he had to drink. And everyone else got to drink if he... Well, the rules weren’t really clear. Everyone seemed pretty gone at that point, so it made sense to them, but not to us sober folks.
Dusty sighed and stared into his soda can.
“I don’t think anyone’s going to arrest you if you have a beer,” I said.
He shook his head. “No, but I made someone a promise, and I have to stick to it.”
“You go to AA?” Hannah said, laughing as the guy singing got a lyric wrong and everyone called him on it. God, you could make anything into a drinking game.
“No, just took some advice someone gave me to heart. Made a change.”
“Is this supposed to be an improvement?” I said.
He held his hand on top of his chest, over his heart. “Ouch.”
I was saved from replying by Renee stumbling into the wall and Paul barely catching her. Little hypocrite. I knew she drank, having gotten more than one drunk text and a few drunk voice mails from her. Paul caught my eye and nodded.
“Excuse me,” I said to Hannah and Dusty.
“I’m not drunk, I swear,” Renee said, although swear came out schwear. “I only had—” she counted on her fingers, but it wasn’t working very well “—three drinks?” It definitely sounded like a question.
“Good job, Paul. Way to keep her sober.” I patted him on the shoulder as Renee slumped against him and hummed an off-key song.
“It’s not as easy as it looks,” he said, holding her up. “I’m going to take her home. I can come back and get you, if you want.”
“I can give Jos a ride. I haven’t been drinking at all.” If there were an award for lurking and sneaking, Dusty Sharp would have won it hands down.
“Thanks, man,” Paul said as he shoved Renee’s arms into her coat and she protested.
“Put her to bed and tell her she’s a terrible example. Not that she’ll remember it,” I said.
“Hey, little sister!” Renee leaned and smacked a kiss on my cheek. “Why are you so sad?”
“I’m not sad, Ne. Go home.”
“But you are sad. Sooooo saaaaddddd,” she sang as Paul dragged her out the door.
“I love how she gets drunk after giving me the third degree,” I said, shaking my head. I was going to give her the third degree the next morning when she was good and hungover so it had the biggest impact.
“Are you?” Dusty said, laughing a little at Renee.
“Am I what?”
“Sad?” Someone yelled, and Dusty pulled me to the side as a guy barreled by us yelling about something or other. In addition to lurking and sneaking, he had very good reflexes.
“No, I’m not sad,” I lied.
He tilted his head a little. “You seem sad.”
I looked away from his searing green eyes. “Um, thanks. I barely know you. I don’t really think you’re qualified to make judgments on my level of sad.”
“Okay, fine. Just let me know when you and Hannah are ready to go.” With that he turned around and dived into the fray, heading toward the kitchen and the makeshift bar.
“How are you doing?” Darah had unstuck herself from Mase’s side to come see me.
“Fine. Did you see Renee?”
Darah rolled her eyes.
“She always thinks her tolerance is way higher than it actually is. You’d think she would have learned by now.” Mase came over and put his arm around her.
“What’s up, Jos? Having a good time?” He was clearly a little buzzed. He held out his fist as if he expected me to give him a bump. So I did and he cheered.
“Yeah, great party.” I gave him a thumbs-up. It would be so much better if I wasn’t sober.
Why do you need to drink to have fun? Drinking just dulls your senses. Why would you want to dull the beautiful intensity of life?
An arm snaked around my shoulder and I jumped. “Hey, girlfriend, you abandoned me.”
I turned to find a grumpy Hannah leaning on me. Some of her hair floated into my mouth and I brushed it away.
“Do you wanna go?” I said.
She removed her arm and shrugged.
“I’m cool with whatever.” Her eyes kept skipping around the room, as if she was looking for someone.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing,” she said, smiling at me. “So I’m guessing some guy is going to drive us home now? Some guy named Dusty?”
Another hand descended on my shoulder, but it wasn’t Hannah’s this time. “You would be correct, Hannah Gillespie.”
“You know, one of these times you’re going to do that and I’m going to think you’re trying to kill me and I might kick you in the junk.”
“My junk would be honored,” he said, removing his hand. I saw that he had my and Hannah’s coats in the other.
“You guys are going home?” Darah said.
“Yeah, I think so. I still have some homework to do.” That was a lie. I had some blogging to do. I’d decided that I was going to get ahead on posts and schedule them ahead of time so I wouldn’t always be behind. It was a great idea, in theory, but I wasn’t sure how it would work in practice.
“See you at home, Little Ne!” Mase called as Darah waved to us. How she was going to handle that monster of a guy was beyond me, but she’d done well so far.
“I’ll tell Taylor and Hunter you went home,” Darah called after us.
“Ladies,” Dusty said, handing us our coats. We put them on as he led us out of the house. His car was parked in an interesting spot, and he ended up maneuvering it out before we could get in.
“You can have shotgun,” Hannah said in my ear.
Awesome.
Hannah and Dusty chatted about random things as he drove to her dorm.
“See you tomorrow, girl. Thanks for the ride, Dusty.”
“Anytime,” he said with that signature wave.
Once Hannah departed, she appeared to have taken all the air out of the car with her. What was wrong with me? I’d been alone with him in the car before. Why was this different?
“So what do you really think about Taylor and Hunter getting married?”
“Why do you care?” I reached out to play with the radio for something to focus on, other than Dusty.
“Here,” he said, reaching across, grazing my boob and opening the glove box and pulling out a battered iPod. He plugged it into the cigarette lighter and changed the radio station before handing me the iPod.
“Skip whatever you don’t like.”
An unfamiliar song came out of the speakers, so I skipped to the next one. Another unfamiliar song. I clicked to his library and scrolled through. Damn, the thing was jammed. He had all sorts of stuff in there. I settled on Beastie Boys, just to watch his face when “Fight for Your Right” came on. I was not disappointed.
“Interesting choice, Red. I approve.” He nodded, and I could see his teeth flashing in the headlights of the oncoming cars.
“What, do I not look like a girl who would listen to the Beastie Boys?”
“No, it’s not that. I just didn’t think you’d choose that.”
We listened to the rest of the song and then I switched it to Death Cab for Cutie. He laughed.
“You are an interesting girl, Red. I’m never bored when I’m with you.”
Ditto.
“You know, if you ever want to talk about anything, I have pretty good listening skills.”
“Are they better than your lurking skills? Because you’re pretty good at that,” I said.
“Lurking?”
“Yeah, you always seem to sneak up behind me, and I never hear you coming.”
“It’s a skill. Honed over years of having to get away quietly.”
“Get away from what?” Let’s see how he liked getting asked personal questions.
“Nice try, Red. Those doors are shut and they’re not going to open. Not even for a cute little thing like you.” He was trying to distract me, but it wasn’t going to work. I’d just let him think that. I had other means of prying into his life.
“Fine, fine.” I scrolled through some more songs. Huh. He had Ingrid Michaelson. That was a surprise. I put on “The Way I Am” and waited for his reaction. He laughed softly, and I could almost hear him blushing.
“If you tell anyone I have Ingrid on here, I will... I don’t know.”
“What, would listening to her ruin your image?” I put air quotes around image.
“I am perfectly confident in my image, thank you very much.” He couldn’t even say it with a straight face, so I started laughing.
“You are so full of shit.”
“Yeah, Red. I am. You shouldn’t believe a word I say.”
“I don’t.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
He tried to stop smiling but he couldn’t and I threw my head back and laughed like I hadn’t in a long time. He pulled up in front of Yellowfield House and turned off the car.
“Here you are,” he said.
“Here I am.”
It was one of those moments that, if this were a movie, he would have leaned over and given me a good-night kiss. But because it wasn’t a movie, we just sat there and I tried to think of something that I could say that would give me a graceful exit.
“Thanks for the ride.” Yeah, that wasn’t it.
“Anytime. Anytime you need anything, just...let me know.” That would be kind of hard to do, since I didn’t have his number. But yeah, I wasn’t going to ask him for it.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” It was times like these when I wish I had a script.
“I’m not into you like that, Red. If that’s what you’re worried about.” Well, the script didn’t matter if he went off book.
“I wasn’t.”
“Okay. Because I know I joke around, but it’s not serious.” He seemed to be trying really hard to be convincing.
“Right.”
“Okay, then. I guess I’ll...see you around.” There seemed to be nothing else to do but get out of the car, so I did and started walking toward the house. I heard the creak of the window crank and then his voice.
“Jos?” The sound of my actual name made me turn around by reflex.
“I...” I’d never seen him at a loss for words, but he seemed to be nothing but tongue-tied tonight. He whispered something that I didn’t hear.
“What?”
He looked through the windshield and not at me. “Sorry, nothing.”
“Well...I’m going to go in the house now.”
“You should do that. It’s too cold to be standing outside.”
“Right. Here I go.” I started walking backward and he laughed.
“Don’t trip, Red.”
I kept going backward until I got to the porch and he watched me the whole time. It wasn’t until I had opened the door, waved and closed it again that I heard his car drive away.
What a freak that boy was.