Party (22 page)

Beckett and Morrigan didn’t argue. We gathered our plates and returned them to the Grill, then me and the girls went back to my car and took off.

I drove us toward Morrigan’s. Thoughts of what her parents were going to do to her gave me the energy to stay awake. The girl was doomed. Exactly how doomed, I wasn’t sure could be measured with modern technology.

But the Lewises’ house looked deceptively peaceful as I pulled to a stop next to the sidewalk. The Lewises weren’t outside waiting for her with chains, anyway. But that’s when Morry’s phone rang again, and I thought, Well, here we go … they’re up right now and think she’s still at the party. My girl’s going down.

But Morrigan only looked surprised.

She flipped open the phone. “Hey,” she said.

She listened, then covered the receiver and mouthed “Josh” at me.

Oh, hell.

Morrigan listened carefully. I couldn’t make out what Josh was saying. I checked the rearview mirror; Beckett was sort of looking around, trying to act like she wasn’t intrigued.

“As well as it can be,” Morrigan said, looking at her house. “Probably gonna spend ninety-nine to life confined to my bedroom. Or a nunnery. But otherwise fine. You?”

We waited.

“You want to hear me say
what,”
Morrigan said.

Her eyebrows arched suddenly, then furrowed. “Oh,” she
said, then bit her lip. “So, are you like saying you changed your mind about—you know …”

Beckett and I looked at each other, gleaning instantly what the conversation was about.

“No, that’s true,” Morrigan said. “I guess I wouldn’t want to be with someone like that.”

She paused, listening, then covered her eyes. “He did?” she asked softly.

That
had
to be about Ryan.

She listened carefully for about a minute before answering. “No, that’s pretty much right, from what I hear. I was, um, kinda blitzed. I was being stupid, which I am very, very good at, if you didn’t notice. But yeah, nothing happened. Ryan’s a stand-up guy. He’s a whore, but a stand-up guy, at least as far as you and your friends go. You need to know that.”

We waited. For some reason I felt anxious, trying to predetermine where the conversation would end.

How the whole damn
night
would end, never mind that the sun was up.

“Yeah, well,” Morrigan said. “I’ve had some time to think about it, and … No, it’s not you. I mean, it is, sorta … I just mean that I think I get why you don’t want to, sorta. And I get why I wanted to. Or thought I needed to. I don’t need to anymore, not like that. Someday would be nice. I just thought you didn’t care. … Yeah, I know that now.”

I squeezed her free hand.

“No … I guess I’m not saying it again. And frankly, I fail to see why this automatically means we can’t hang out,”
Morrigan said. She listened again, then said, “Okay, yes,
go
out. Date. Couplehood. Be an item.”

She listened again.

“I agree,” she said. “So we’ll get together maybe later tonight or something if I can get out of my house, okay? … Well, not
that
kind of get together, you perv. At least not right away. We’ll get coffee or something and talk about it. Then you can drive me to the beach and ravage me like the good old days.”

Beckett squeaked, and I had to cover my mouth.

Morrigan smiled slyly. “I’ll call you,” she said. “Yeah. … Yeah. … Okay. Talk to you later. Bye, Josh.”

She closed the phone and leaned back against the seat. “I’m an idiot.”

“I could’ve told you that,” I said. “So are you guys back?”

“Yeah,” Beckett chimed in from the back. “What’s the g—”

She stopped short. Morrigan glanced over her shoulder, then at me … and a smile sort of teased her lips.

“The
go
is, I don’t know,” Morry said after a sec. “I think I want to find out, though.”

“Nice job,” I said.

Morrigan grunted. “Huh. Yeah, yay me.” But she smiled too, for real.

Morrigan got out and shut the door without a goodbye to either me or Beck. I thought she was just being a snot, but then she leaned up against the car, her back pressed flat against the window.

Beckett and I looked at each other. I shut off the engine and
climbed out, and Beckett followed. We walked around to the passenger side and leaned up against the car on either side of Morrigan, staring together at her house just as the sky was turning blue and finally burning through the June Gloom.

“My parents,” Morrigan said, “are going to string me up by my balls.”

“Must suck to have balls,” Beckett said.

“You know, it really does,” Morrigan said, and giggled sleepily. “Well, fuck it,” she said and moved away from the car. “Guess my ass ain’t going to kick itself. Better get it over with.” She turned to face us, and addressed Beckett. “Listen, I don’t remember a whole lot about last night, so if I was a bitch or anything, and I probably was … I’m sorry, okay?”

Beckett nodded. “It’s okay.”

“Okay. Cool. So … we should all hang out sometime. That might mean, like, our ten-year high school reunion, but still.”

Beckett looked at me as if expecting my permission. No way, Beck. Your call. So I just stared back at her.

Beckett sort of dropped her head and gestured as if she was brushing hair out of her eyes. “Yeah, okay,” she said. “That would be cool.”

“Killer,” Morrigan said, and looked to me. “So I’ll call you tonight if I can. Maybe we can call Antho too, get the whole gang together, barbecue like he said. But if I don’t call, you’ll know why.” She jerked a thumb back toward the house over her shoulder.

“No problem,” I said. “Whenever you can. Call the house, though. My phone got trashed.”

“Huh. I don’t want to know.”

“Yeah, you really don’t.” I gave her shoe a little kick.

“Cool,” Morrigan said. She heaved a big melodramatic sigh and took a step toward the brick walk leading to the front door. Then she paused for a minute and looked back at me and Beckett.

“Well,” she said, “see you guys.” Then added, “See ya, Beck.”

“See ya,” Beckett and I both said.

That’s when the front door opened, and Morrigan’s parents stepped out onto the stoop.

Morrigan clenched her hands into fists and walked defiantly toward them, probably anticipating a solid smack upside the head, or worse.

I held my breath, and felt Beckett stiffen beside me.

Mrs. Lewis met her halfway up the walk as Mr. Lewis stayed by the front door, folding his arms, looking all stern and whatever. His face was kind of under a shadow, so it was hard to tell exactly what expression he had.

Mrs. Lewis stopped Morrigan by grabbing both of her shoulders and dipping her head to look Morry square in the eye. She said something too quiet to hear, and Morry nodded. I couldn’t believe it when Mrs. Lewis then gave Morry a kiss on the forehead and walked toward me and Beckett, leaving Morrigan to stare over her shoulder after her mom.

Mrs. Lewis walked right up to us. She said hi to me and Beck, and said, “I want you to know how much I appreciate you looking after her.”

“Oh,” I said, kind of at a loss. Thank us for letting her get smashed, puke, and try to waste her virginity? “Well, sure. I mean … no big.”

“It is a
big,”
Mrs. Lewis said with this sort of half-grin. “She’s home safe, and it sounds to me like that’s almost entirely your doing. Thank you, Ashley.” She glanced at Beck. “Are you friends with Morrigan?”

“Uh,” Beck said, and blinked. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Well, thank you both. Really. Oh, and ah—don’t expect to hear from her for at least a couple of weeks.” She genuinely smiled when she said it.

“No problem, Mrs. Lewis,” I said. “Don’t be too hard on her.”

“Well, we’ve …” She paused and looked back at Morry, who was still eyeing her cautiously. “We’ve got a lot of talking to do,” Mrs. Lewis finished. “Now you two should get home, your parents probably want to murder you.”

Automatically, I gave Beck’s hand a squeeze. “We’ll be fine,” I said, and Beckett squeezed my hand back.

Mrs. Lewis gave us a parting smile and walked back up the sidewalk. When she reached Morrigan, she surrounded her shoulders with one arm, leading her to the stoop, where Mr. Lewis stood like an executioner.

Mrs. Lewis left Morry there and went into the house. Morrigan folded her own arms, just like him, and glared up at his face, like they were having a stare-down contest. Then she glanced in our direction, dropped her arms … and hugged her dad, forcing him to unfold his arms in the process.

Me and Beck waited, and a second later, Mr. Lewis hugged her, too. He gave her an awkward-looking pat on the back and kissed the top of her head.

Like he’d lost and found his kid in the grocery store.

It was a start.

Morrigan broke the hug first, and her dad pointed a grim finger at her, said something, and disappeared into the house.

Morrigan turned to us again, stuck out her ass, and gave it a sarcastic metaphorical smack. Beckett and I laughed, and Morrigan grinned devilishly back before letting herself into her house and gently closing the door behind her.

Me and Beck stood there leaning against the car for a sec, sort of absorbing the whole night, I guess. Maybe waiting for screaming to start inside the Lewis house—dishes breaking, tortured cries … something. I know I was. After a full minute passed without any signs of Morrigan’s destruction, I looked at Beck. She had a thoughtful expression on her face, too.

“So I was thinking,” I said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Here’s how it’s going to play out.” I turned and draped an arm over the roof of the car. “Tonight, you’re going to go on an awesome first date with Max. Okay?”

Beckett grinned shyly. “Here’s hoping. Unless
you
still—”

“No, I don’t. It was like a year ago.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. Then on Monday morning, I’m going to get James and Antho and my dad, and James’s truck, and we’re
going to head over to your place and load up all your stuff and take it to my house.”

Beckett frowned. “What—”

“We’ll move my dad’s office stuff somewhere else,” I interrupted. “We
do
have three bedrooms, remember? You’ll move in there and finish senior year like the rest of us.”

“Ash,” Beckett said, “no, you shouldn’t do that.”

“Mmm—yes, I should.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly,” I said. “But you don’t have to.”

“Ash …”

“I can call my dad right now if you want me to,” I said, pointing to Morrigan’s house since I didn’t have my cell anymore. “And you can argue with
him
about it. But you know what he’s going to say. So save us all the trouble and accept it, that’s my advice.”

“… Why would you do that?”

“Well,” I said, “if it was me instead of you … what would you do?”

Beckett didn’t say anything for like a full minute before slowly nodding her head.

“Okay,” she said.

“Good.” I walked around to the driver’s-side door. Beckett climbed into the passenger seat.

I got in and started the car up. I checked for traffic—there was none this early in the morning on a Sunday—and pulled away from Morrigan’s house, headed for Beckett’s apartment.

We were halfway there when Beckett’s phone vibrated in
her bag. She looked surprised, and reached in to grab it. She flipped the phone open and read a text message.

“Ooo, is that your
boyfriend?
” I teased.

She smirked, and for one moment looked a lot like Morrigan. How weird is that? “He’s not my boyfriend,” she said, “and no, it’s from … Morrigan.”

“Really. What’s she say?”

Beckett laughed. “‘Grounded one month,’” she read.

“Ah, well. Could have been worse.”

We drove most of the rest of the way in silence. Santa Barbara was beautiful, with the sun peeking out through some of the gloom from time to time. About three blocks from her apartment, one sunray caught the front steps of the Santa Barbara Mission.

Beckett yawned. “So,” she said, “
that’s
a party, huh?”

“They’re not all like that,” I said. “I don’t think. And honestly, not looking to find out any time soon.”

I glanced at her, feeling like this was the end of the beginning of one hell of a cool summer vacation. Our last one, most likely. This time next year, I was sure, we’d all three be busy getting ready for college, wherever that took us. Maybe we’d all go to San Diego or L.A., or maybe we’d end up across the country. Who knew? I decided then that I’d call the Lewises tomorrow and beg for leniency on Morrigan’s behalf. Summer was for kids, and I was not about to grow up just yet, and not without my best friends. Plus Morrigan had a date to keep with her boyfriend.

Something else hit me as I studied Beck, who was looking out the passenger window and trying not to fall asleep.

“Hey,” I said.

Beckett jerked her head up sleepily. “Hmm? Yeah?”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

Beckett rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Yeah?” she said. “What’s that?”

“… I really like your hat.”

This is only a short list of everyone who made a difference, or who just believed. Thank you, I love you:

My beautiful wife, Joy, who knew I could when I didn’t.

Joel, Tim, Tony, Matt, Bishop, Rod, Bill, Chris, Jay, Damon, and Greg.
“Does someone else wanna film?”

Michaelpeck; Amy & Co.; Amazin’ Miss M; D-L; and
everyone
at FBCS’s Wednesday nights and Sunday mornings.

Mom and Dad, with
galactic
patience and endless faith, and for never hesitating to give me what I needed or wanted to tell my stories.

Bob, Dianne, Michelle, and Alecia, who never doubted.

Michelle A., Jennifer M., and Suzy C. Thank you so, so much.

Tully and Goldie.

Everyone at Chyro (“It’s pronounced
Cairo
!”), especially the bands and fans.

Matthew Sixteen-sixteen.

And thanks to
you
for hanging out with me. I appreciate it. Take care, and hang in there.