Lost in Las Vegas (7 page)

“But we just got here.” Eliza’s voice was tightly pitched — kind of like a rubber band about to snap.

“So?” Harry looked blankly at his date.

“So, I haven’t even danced yet, Harry.”

He just shrugged. “So dance.” Then with hands in his pockets, he just walked away.

“That’s what I’m going to do.” Taylor snatched up Seth’s hand. “Let’s boogy, baby!”

“Me too,” said Rhiannon as she reached for Bradford.

“I’m with you guys.” Now Conner grabbed DJ’s hand, and Eliza was left standing with only Kriti and Josh for company. None of the three looked terribly pleased. No longer the ruling queen, Eliza looked more like a pouting princess with her scowling handmaid. And poor Josh looked like he wanted to make a fast break for the door. Who could blame him?

“I’d feel sorry for them,” DJ told Conner as they started to dance. “Except that they brought it on themselves.”

By the time the song ended, DJ didn’t see Eliza anywhere on the dance floor. Her guess was that Eliza, tired of the humiliation of being dateless, had given in and gone upstairs to join Harry and Barf Boy. But she spotted Kriti and Josh sitting on the sidelines staring into space. Maybe they’d had too much to drink as well.

“It’s sad,” DJ said as she and Conner rejoined Rhiannon and Bradford between dances.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, that people think adding alcohol to the mix is going to make things so much more fun and exciting.” She nodded over to Kriti and Josh — the two bumps on a log.

“Wow, looks like they’re having a great time,” said Bradford sarcastically.

“And poor Casey is home alone,” Rhiannon reminded them.

“And Eliza never got to dance once,” said DJ. “Or to show off her princess gown.” Okay, she hadn’t needed to say that.

“Well, it looks like Taylor and Seth are enjoying themselves,” observed Conner.

“So far . . .” Rhiannon shook her head. “The night is still young for some people.”

“Not for me,” admitted DJ as the band leader announced the last song. “After this, I’m ready to call it a night.”

“Me too,” agreed Bradford.

“But do we have to ride home in that stinky Hummer?” asked Rhiannon.

Conner laughed. “Don’t worry. I already arranged for a cab.”

“Thanks for calling a cab,” DJ told Conner as they went out for the last dance. “Thanks for everything tonight, Conner!”

And as she danced, DJ couldn’t help but feel like Conner was the real deal. Tonight, when so many others were falling apart, he had stepped up and done his best to hold it together. He’d helped Garrison and stood up to Eliza. And all with a friendly sense of humor. Somehow he’d known how to make things right without making others feel particularly bad. DJ knew that wasn’t her gift. She had a tendency to speak her mind no matter how it sounded. But maybe she could learn.

Conner and DJ were the first couple out of the cab, and that was fine with DJ. “It was a great night,” said Conner as he escorted her up the walk to Carter House.

“In a weird and wild way, it was,” she agreed.

“We sure have some messed-up friends.”

“Unfortunately, that seems to be the case.” They were on the porch now, still holding hands. “I have a feeling that I might choose different friends,” she mused, “I mean some of them. But living under the same roof . . . well, it’s tricky.”

“Kind of like family.”

“I guess . . . like a dysfunctional family.” She knew they were making small talk. And she knew that this was that moment — to kiss or not to kiss. But she just wasn’t sure. “But, hey, they kind of put the fun back into dysfunctional.”

“You know what they say. You don’t get to pick your relatives.” Now he cupped her chin in his hands and looked into her eyes. “But if I were picking, I’d pick you for sure, DJ.”

She smiled. “For a sister or a cousin?”

He laughed. “Not that kind of a relative.”

“Good.”

And then he kissed her. Just once. But it was a fairly long and solid kiss. And, really, once was enough. “Thanks,” she breathed, reaching for the door handle behind her.

“Thank you!”

DJ let herself inside, quietly closing the door behind her. Okay, the evening hadn’t been a complete success. But it hadn’t been a complete mess either. At least not for her. But now she was concerned about Casey. Hopefully, she wasn’t up there moping.

DJ went up and knocked on the bedroom door. When no one answered, DJ quietly opened it to see that the lights were already off. But enough light from the hallway showed Casey’s soiled Madonna outfit piled in a corner and Casey snug in her bed. Probably sleeping off whatever it was she’d had to drink tonight. Poor Casey. DJ went over to check on her, but as she got closer, she realized that something about the form in Casey’s bed didn’t seem quite right. DJ jerked back the blankets to see that Casey had arranged pillows to look like her.

“What’s up?” asked Rhiannon as she came in and turned on the light.

“Casey is gone.”

“Gone where?” Rhiannon stared at Casey’s rumpled but empty bed.

“Three guesses.”

Rhiannon held up one finger. “Garrison called.” Then another. “He begged Casey to come back to the hotel?” The third finger. “And she went.”

“Bingo,” said DJ sadly.

Rhiannon frowned. “She must’ve taken a cab.”

“And now what?” DJ turned to Rhiannon.

“Guess that’s up to Casey.” Rhiannon kicked off her green velvet pumps and sighed.

DJ just shook her head. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”

As stupid as it was, there seemed to be nothing to do about it. But now DJ didn’t feel sleepy. It wasn’t so much that she was worried about Casey and the others. Just aggravated. She knew she could go and wake up Grandmother and tell all. But then what would Grandmother do? Drive over to the hotel and drag back Casey, Taylor, Eliza, and Kriti? Probably not. Certainly, she would be annoyed. And she’d probably give everyone another one of her “little lady lectures.” But chances were that would be the end of it.

Except that everyone would be furious at DJ. Not that DJ cared so much. But she just wasn’t sure what good it would do to stir the pot. Once again, it seemed the only thing she could do that would make any difference was to pray. At least she hoped it made a difference. Anyway, she prayed until she was so sleepy she thought even God must be getting weary of her words.

7

DJ WAS SURPRISED TO WAKE
to the sound of Taylor snoring. Okay, she knew that Taylor only snored when she’d been drinking — heavily. But sure enough, when DJ turned over in her bed, she saw that the light in the bathroom was still on, and Taylor’s gorgeous black dress was in a little puddle with her expensive shoes kicked off nearby. Now Taylor was sound asleep. Not soundlessly asleep. But she was definitely out.

DJ looked at the clock to see that it was 2:57. Not all that late, considering. Still, she wondered how long Taylor had been home . . . or if anyone else had come back as well. But that could wait until morning. For now, DJ just wanted to sleep. Surprisingly, it came easier knowing that Taylor was safely home.

DJ didn’t get up until ten, but Taylor was still asleep. Instead of stomping around, like she normally enjoyed doing when she felt certain that her roommate might be suffering a hangover, DJ tiptoed to the bathroom. She took a quick shower, pulled on some sweats, and then tiptoed downstairs where Rhiannon was sitting by herself at the breakfast table, her head bent over her economics book.

“Good morning,” said DJ as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Hey, someone is finally up.” Rhiannon smiled and closed her book.

“Did Casey make it back?”

“She came creeping in at about two thirty.”

“Taylor’s here too.”

“I know. She helped to get Casey home.”

“Helped?”

“Casey got into a fight with Garrison at the hotel. I think she’d had more to drink too.”

“And?”

“And . . .” Rhiannon shrugged. “That’s all I know. Taylor kind of helped her to bed and then filled me in . . . just barely.”

“Really?”

“Taylor wasn’t exactly sober either.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“But apparently she was sober enough to call them a cab and get them back here.”

“Taylor can function fairly well under the influence,” DJ admitted. “I don’t exactly know how, but I’ve seen it before.”

“Good morning, ladies,” said Grandmother as she joined them. “Where is everyone?”

“Sleeping off the big night, I expect,” said DJ as she helped herself to a yogurt.

“So how was the ball?”

“It was wonderful,” said Rhiannon.

“Yes,” agreed DJ. “It was really fun. I had a great time.”

“Oh, that’s so nice to hear. I assume the other girls enjoyed themselves too.”

“I’m sure they could fill you in on the details,” said DJ. Although she was certain that was never going to happen.

Suddenly she was curious whether Eliza or Kriti made it home last night. She was also curious about her grandmother’s reaction if they hadn’t. On one hand, she didn’t know if she cared if Eliza got caught. Grandmother would probably handle it herself without bothering to tell Eliza’s parents. But it might go differently with Kriti. DJ knew Kriti would be crushed if her parents found out what she’d been up to. On the other hand, maybe it would help Kriti if her parents knew what was going on.

Whatever the case, DJ sneaked up to check on their room after breakfast and was relieved to see that Kriti was there and just getting up.

“Sorry to bother you,” said DJ. “But my grandmother was asking after everyone, and I was curious if you made it back okay.”

Kriti nodded and rubbed her head as if it was aching.

“And Eliza too?”

“No,” said Kriti hoarsely. “She stayed over.”

“Oh.”

“I came back with Taylor and Casey.”

“Were you glad to come back?”

Kriti sighed. “Yes and no.”

“Huh?”

“I was relieved to get home and sleep in my own bed. But Eliza will be mad when she finds out.”

“She didn’t know you left?”

“No.”

“Oh.” DJ considered this. “Well, you shouldn’t allow Eliza to push you around so much. She’s not your — ”

“She’s my best friend,” Kriti declared stubbornly. “If you’ll excuse me.” Then she hurried to the bathroom. DJ hoped she wasn’t about to throw up, because she did look rather pasty.

DJ sighed and returned to her room to fetch her homework and laptop. Like Rhiannon, DJ wanted to spend part of the day studying for finals. But she planned to squat in the library, where she could study in undisturbed privacy. She wouldn’t admit it to her roommates, but she was getting a little tired of all of them. In fact, as far as DJ was concerned, winter break wouldn’t get here quickly enough. She knew she needed a break. And she suspected she wasn’t the only one.

By dinnertime, all of the Carter House girls were present and accounted for. Grandmother, pleased to see the additional four, questioned them about last night’s ball. And their slightly unenthusiastic answers were predictably dishonest. Not that Grandmother seemed to notice or care. Sometimes DJ felt her grandmother simply created her own reality — a shallow, superficial kind of reality that barely scratched the surface. Still, it seemed to make her happy.

“Where have you been keeping yourself all day?” asked Taylor as they were finally getting ready for bed.

“Studying for finals.” DJ peeled back her comforter and slipped between the sheets.

“Yeah, right.”

“I
was
studying,” DJ defended herself as she reached to turn off her bedside lamp. “I happen to care about my grades.”

“Whatever.”

“Seriously, Taylor. I
was
studying. I was in the library for most of the day. Is that a crime?”

“No.”

“I actually thought you might appreciate the privacy.”

Taylor didn’t say anything, just continued her meticulous process for getting ready for bed. This meant the application of various creams and lotions and ointments, and DJ wondered how a person could possibly keep track of all those beauty products and what they were meant to be used for. And what would happen if Taylor accidentally put eye ointment on her elbows or foot cream on her face? Would she wake up looking like the Bride of Frankenstein?

“So are you saying you missed me?” DJ grinned as Taylor looked up from rubbing something green onto her heels.

“In your dreams.” But Taylor was smiling now. “I just didn’t want to feel like I ran you out of your own room.”

“That wasn’t it,” DJ protested. “And, if I remember correctly, you’re the one who leaped at the opportunity to have a private bathroom yesterday.”

Taylor chuckled. “That was just to beat Eliza to the punch.”

“Good one.”

“So, really, you’re not mad at me?” asked Taylor.