Harder (11 page)

But I still have to force myself to keep looking. It’s like staring at the sun. I don’t want to face myself. I don’t need to see myself to know who I am.

“Ryan is going to go crazy when he sees you,” Amy says.

It pulls me away from the mirror, gives me something else to think about. “Think so?”

“Yeah, I bet this is just what he likes.”

Yay. Wait, does that mean normal me isn’t?

Chapter 9

I don’t usually do parties. I wasn’t really invited to many in high school, and when I was, I found excuses not to go. But I can’t say no to Ally.

She makes life more exciting, and even if it’s kind of always heading for a crash, it’s a train I don’t want to get off of.

I wonder if she’s done her ASL homework for tomorrow, then realize it’s a stupid thing to be thinking about while walking up to Amy’s door.

I knock, maybe too hard. Amy’s house is nice, two-story, brown brick, upscale. The door opens, and music floats out. I love music. I wish I knew what it was like to feel it through vibrations, like my parents, but I can’t turn my ears off.

Amy’s a pretty girl. Tan skin, brown eyes and hair, short and curvy body. The polar opposite of Ally. She smiles at me, and I try not to fidget. I look past her into the living room. No Ally. Disappointment must show on my face because Amy smiles and wraps her arm through mine and drags me in, shutting the door loudly behind us. I gulp.

What does one even do at a party?

People are sitting on couches, facing each other, talking. Maybe it’s just like hanging out with a few people, just more of them. I grab a chair and Amy asks me about a drink. I nod. It’s much louder in here. Loud, bay-area rap makes it hard to hear, and several people are dancing in the middle of the floor.

I push down my shyness and look closer at the people around me. A hand grabs my shoulder, startling me. I turn up to see Ally looking down at me.

No, it’s not Ally. It’s her evil twin. She’s got makeup on, and is wearing pink. She looks miserable. She looks beautiful. But it’s just not her. Not the Ally I’ve been getting to know.

“Hey, ready for punishment?” She crouches next to me and messes with a shoe lace.

“Ally, don’t do that in a dress,” Amy says, running over.

Ally goes slightly pink as she stands, vaguely matching the tight pink dress she’s wearing. It’s skin tight, with tiny straps. Her legs are everywhere. Her hair is so blonde.

“What’s the point of these shorts then?” She says, lifting the dress to flash them at all of us.

I laugh. That’s her. I cover my laugh when she glares at me. Then I turn away so they can argue.

The front door opens. A couple guys walk in, guys I don’t know. Amy runs to the door and brings them in. My initial judgment is douchebags.

Popped collars, holding beers, pushing past Amy to size everyone up. Three of them. Blond bro in the center seems in charge, and vaguely familiar. Chubby dude in the back, super tall dude with a shaved head next to him. I look for Ally. I want her next to me.

She’s watching Amy, and when the boys come in, she folds her arms and takes a seat next to me. I try not to stare, or smile. Her outfit is cracking me up. Pink dress, Chucks, Spanx.

“Don’t say anything,” she says.

I just nod. I’m great at that.

“Do I look stupid?”

I stare at her for a moment, take in her luminous silver eyes, pixie face, and soft skin. I shake my head ‘no’.

“Thanks?” She looks at the guys walking in and then sinks her face in her hands. “I wish Amy hadn’t invited them.”

“Why?”

“I met them at a party last year when I was first here. Blondie had a big mouth and we sort of got into a fight over whether he should shut it.”

“Fight?” He tried to fight Ally? My Ally? My hands go to fists at the thought.

“Settle down, he refused to fight a girl. Said a few choice things about how I look. Called me some names. Nothing I’m not used to, dressing like this.” She looks down at her dress, stretches the material in her hands. “Well, you know, dressing like I usually do.”

I just nod.

“Still, I wish I was wearing something else right now. I hate being in these clothes.”

“Why?”

“It’s just not me.” She sighs. “I’ve been dressing this way a long time. I did try dressing like a girl once, for a while, when I got married. It’s just not me.” She pulls at her waist band. “Sooo uncomfortable.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And you can’t fight in this stuff either.”

“Why do you need to fight?” I say.

Her face tightens. “I guess someone like you wouldn’t understand.”

“Someone like me?”

“Yeah, someone soft.”

I frown and look at my arms. They look big to me.

“Not that, just personality wise. You wouldn’t hit anyone.”

I force myself not to grin. She has no idea.

The boys are still at the other end of the group. “Are Rain and Knight coming?”

She shakes her head. “Not that I know of. They like to just hang out with themselves.”

I shrug. I wish I had someone like that. I’m only twenty, but I’m done with the party scene.

She fidgets and then crosses her legs and pulls them underneath her. “I hate this. Argh, I hate this. They’re coming over.”

“If they did that, why did Amy invite them?”

“She wasn’t there. It happened outside. They went to school with her or something.”

“Why didn’t you tell her?”

She lowers her head, and the longer hair at the front of her face covers her eyes. “I don’t know. What was the point? And the things they said, I didn’t want to repeat them to her. Not with, you know, her moms. It was ugly.”

My fists tighten again. Amy should probably know they’re bigots before she lets them into her house.

Amy pops up on Ally’s other side. “I’m sorry, I didn’t invite them. They just saw the cars outside.”

Ally sighs.

“I know you don’t like Brett. What happened with you guys?”

I lean forward and Ally slaps a warm hand over my mouth. “Nothing,” she says.

Amy glares at both of us, then looks up smiling as a guest asks her something. She leaves us, sending one last suspicious look over her shoulder.

“You should tell her,” I say. “If they said stuff like that, all the more reason she should know so she doesn’t invite them back.”

“Bigots are bigots. There’s always going to be one around. Plus, I asked her about them last time, she said she didn’t really invite them to stuff anyway. Oh well.”

“Want something to drink?” I motion to the drink table.

“Sure. Non-alcoholic.”

I nod. We’re both underage, so it’s a given.

I don’t know why I’m here, I don’t know what to say to Ally in a dress, and I hate that a bunch of guys like the ones that called me awful names in grade school are here on top of it all.

I just want to whisk Ally away in my Mercedes. Go up the drive past my house, park in the mountains and watch all of the lights below glow in multicolored brilliance, and just talk.

Well, listen to her talk. I could listen to her forever. I pour one drink and then realize we’re out of cups.

I look under the table, then go towards what looks like the kitchen to see if I can find some. There are cups on the countertop, so I grab some and head back. The drink I poured is still there, and I pull out a cup and pour another drink. I like repetitive tasks. I like having my hands busy.

Ally is talking animatedly to a guy next to her. He’s one of the guards and he’s laughing at whatever she’s saying, but looking at her skirt. I frown, and as I’m walking back, Amy comes up and takes my chair next to her. Shoot.

I’m just so awkward here.

I stop in front of Ally and hand her the drink. She looks up at me, goes to take it, but her fingers brush mine, and she flinches as if shocked, then looks away, face reddening. She keeps a hold of the cup. “Thanks Ryan.”

She ignores me though, goes back to talking to Dane, the guy next to her. She asks him something and he laughs and nods, putting his head forward and letting her run a hand over his mohawk. I drink my soda and try not to glare.

Girls are dancing with guys in the middle of the floor. Someone has twister going on. All excuses to just get on each other. I’m not interested.

I go back to keeping an eye on the douchebags. They’re in the middle of the floor, trying to make it with a couple of the girl guards. For the most part it’s just sloppy dancing, and the girls are happy to oblige. The blonde dude is familiar. I’m just not sure where from. I can’t pull up a picture of him no matter what, but it’s sitting there, just at the edge of my consciousness. I don’t think I know him, but I’ve seen him.

Amy comes out, sees them dancing, points at the beer, and says something. The guy just laughs and goes back to what he’s doing. My jaw tightens. I’m about to stand when she tries to take his beer out of his hand. I guess she doesn’t want him spilling.

He pulls the beer away, steps back, beer in hand, sneering at her, and pours some on the carpet. I’m up and moving now. I don’t want trouble, but I can’t let him disrespect Amy.

Amy reaches for the beer again, and he shoves her back. His friends back away, telling him to stop. I remember where I’ve seen him now.

Boxing. I may have seen him at competitions. He’s not in my weight class. I step around him to get between him and Ally, but a pink and white blur gets in my way.

“What the hell?” Ally grabs the beer can away before he can do anything about it.

“Ally, I can handle it,” Amy says.

I just stand there, jaw open, watching from behind them.

Ally doesn’t look any less intimidating in her dress. In fact she looks scarier. She looks tall with so much leg and arm showing. She grabs the beer, pours it on his shirt, and then smashes the can on her forehead.

“Spill on the carpet now, douchebags.”

The friends start forward, but blond guy puts a hand out to keep them back.

“I remember you,” he says, smirking. He’s the type that could have been in a boy band, if he’d ever done something even sort of productive for society.

He calls her the word that Ally didn’t want to tell Amy.

Ally hisses and closes the distance between them in an instant, grabbing his shirt and pulling him to face her. They’re about the same height. “Say that again...”

He does, the slur rolling off his drunken tongue easily. He doesn’t look like he minds being so close. He leers down at her dress, looking down the front opening that gapping because she’s holding him with both hands. “Nice dress. Maybe try batting for the other team tonight?”

She pushes him back, disgusted, and gives him a disdainful look. “Naw, I’m not into girls.”

He scowls and comes forward, she does too, raising a fist. I come between them, pushing them apart easily. Ally protests, but I put one arm out to keep her from getting past me, and face him. I know I’m not a romance hero. I can’t punch him for hitting on her and stake my claim on my woman. But I can still protect her. By removing him.

“You should go now,” I say.

“You gonna make me? Want to go to jail for assault?”

I pick him up by the collar and haul him to the front door, feet dragging. He coughs and claws at my hands, but he doesn’t weigh anything compared to me.

I nod to Ally, who’s following us, and she opens the front door. I toss him out, making sure he lands on the grass. He scrambles to his knees, ready to hurl more insults, but we shove his friends out the door behind him, and shut and lock it.

Amy sinks against the closed door. The other partygoers are watching us with curiosity. She waves them away, and they go back to dancing and eating.

Ally reaches for her, but Amy turns away.

“That’s why you didn’t like them? That’s why you tried to fight them?” Her eyes are watery.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I should have known.”

I scratch the back of my neck. My first party isn’t going great. Maybe I should just get through the rest of my undergrad without drama and go off to grad school, where no one expects you to be social.

“Thanks, Ryan,” Amy says. “I’m going to my room for a minute to cool off.”

“Want me to come?” Ally says, looking concerned.

“No,” Amy replies, waving her off. “Just keep an eye on things. Don’t let them get too crazy.” She disappears up the stairs, probably going to her bedroom.

Ally just glares up at me. She’s angry, and as usual, I don’t know why. She stands and pushes past me. No thank you, no nothing. She sits on a chair away from the group, her hands around her shoulders. Dane comes up to try and make her laugh, and she just shakes her head and he goes away. I walk over slowly.

A girl crosses in front of me before I can get there. She’s blonde, and again, vaguely familiar.

“Ryan!”

I bite my lip and stare down at her. This is embarrassing.

“You rescued me the other day.”

“Oh yeah.” I put my hands in my pockets, and look over at Ally. She’s not looking at me. I turn back to the girl. She’s got wavy, thin, blond hair. Pretty. I don’t know why she’s talking to me. “You a friend of Amy’s?”

“I know her from school.”

“You went to Mountain Crest?”

“Yeah, I’m a year older than Amy.”

A year younger than me, then. I don’t remember ever seeing her at school. I nod. Default response.

“Anyway, I’m really grateful for what you did.”

“You’re welcome.”

She looks at the ground, then stares at me again. I don’t get it. She looks down at her hands. “Anyway, maybe I’ll see you around?”

“Sure,” I say. I give a little wave and go back to Ally. I sit next to her and she turns away with a little ‘hmph’.

“What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t say anything. Just flattens her lips together and glares.

“Did I do something wrong?”

She looks at me now, trying to see if I seriously don’t know why she’s mad. I don’t.

“I can’t read your mind,” I say. Wrong idea.

“Yeah, now you know how everyone else feels when you don’t say anything.”

“Was I supposed to say something?”

“I meant in general.” Her silver eyes flash and she lowers dark blonde lashes and takes a deep breath. For a split second, she looks vulnerable. Then rock solid Ally is back, complete with scowl. “But yeah, you could have said something.”