She Dims the Stars (3 page)

The funniest part about this line is that the girl isn’t even wearing shoes. But she laughs so hard that she falls into him and, within minutes, they’re walking down the hallway to find an empty room.

I’m not suave by any means. Chelsea was kind of a one-off, if I’m being completely honest. I never in a million years would have pictured myself with a girlfriend as hot as she was.

I’m too goofy. Too awkward around girls. I don’t know. I’ve been told I’m many things. A good flirt is not one of them.

I can’t recall what I said to the girl with the black hair by the bonfire, but it ends with us running to the lake to drunkenly jump off the dock and me being pulled out of the water by someone who looks a little like Cline. Maybe it was my old stand-by of “I like that shirt, but I’d like it better on my floor.”

Pretty sure that’s when I blacked out. Which is a shame, because the girl who wanted to go swimming had actually taken off her top.

“Elliot.”

I shift and press my face into the fabric under my cheek.

“Elliot. Elllll-iiiii-ottttttt.” Whoever is making an E.T. voice is going to get my full wrath. As soon as the room stops spinning, of course.

This time it’s a whisper right next to my ear. “Elliottttt.”

It startles me, and I jump a little, my eyes flying open at the sound of little pings as something scatters across the floor.

Audrey. Audrey is by my side, laughing hysterically as I sit fully upright and watch a hundred Reese’s Pieces rain down around my feet.

“Original. Where the hell did you even get this many Reese’s?”

She blinks and leans back, her mouth open in false shock. “What else do you eat while you’re drunk?”

The house is eerily quiet, and I squint under the terrible brightness of that asshole we refer to as the sun.

She gets to her feet and tilts her head to look me over. “You’re really bad at this drinking thing.”

“I don’t do it very often, but when I do, I commit.” The smile I give her is fleeting before the back of my throat tingles, and I’m stumbling up and towards the bathroom to prove her right.

She’s standing outside the door when I finish puking, and the amusement on her face can’t be ignored. “Cline left you. Said I could bring you back to his house.”

“Why?” I’m only vaguely aware that my legs are really cold.

“He said something about wanting to choke you out, but then you passed out on the couch, and he went back into a room with that girl again. He took her home this morning. Said there wasn’t enough room in the truck.”

“He really is the shittiest best friend on the planet.”

She grins. “The. Absolute. Worst. I made him a t-shirt that said that exact thing once.”

“You’re the one who bought him that? He wears it all the time.” Just chuckling makes my head hurt, and she pushes off the wall tsk-ing as she walks away. “Why am I only wearing boxers? Where are my clothes?” I’d be embarrassed if I wasn’t feeling like death.

“Someone brought them in from outside. You weren’t wearing much when you were dragged in here.”

When she returns, she has a cup full of stuff that fizzes like Alka-Seltzer but tastes like really bad Gatorade. I assume I’ll puke this up in about five minutes, but miraculously, after laying down for another fifteen, I am perfectly fine and asking about breakfast.

In the time it’s taken me to recover, she’s cleaned up what she didn’t get to before waking me. If I wasn’t in so much pain, I would be really impressed with how pristine the place looks before we shuffle outside. When she locks the door behind us, I can see this look cross her face as though she’s disappointed that we’re leaving already. Her eyes fixate for a second on the welcome mat, and then, like a light switch, she turns to look at me with a smile.

“You’re a dude, so I assume breakfast means bacon. With a side of bacon. Am I right?”

I’m surrounded by fast food biscuit wrappers, and the taste of grease sits heavy on my tongue while I let the wind hit my face at sixty miles an hour. Audrey has graciously not spoken until this point. And then …

“What was her name?”

I crack an eye open and roll my head in her direction, hoping that the look I am giving her is one of disdain and not one where I look like a lobotomy patient. “Who?”

“The girl.” Her eyes slide to me and back to the road. “The one you were screaming out the window about. The one who made you try and pick up every last girl at my party last night.” She smiles a little. “Unsuccessfully. But still.”

I groan and lean my head back against the car seat. “Chelsea.”

“I’m sorry. Kelsey?”

“Chelsea,” I say louder. The sound of my own voice makes my head throb, like the hangover is just waiting to come back with a vengeance, and my body is ninja-ready.

“We’ll call her Kelsey. I hated a girl with that name once.”

My eyes are filmy when I blink them open to look at the delight on her face.

“Like a code name. That Kelsey Bitch. Ugh. She’s such a
Kelsey
.”

“You’re crazy.” I laugh and close my eyes again.

She responds almost too softly for me to hear, “Yeah. Maybe.” Then she elbows me. Hard. The car veers a little into the other lane, and I grab the
oh shit
handle and press my foot to the dash.

“You’re a terrible driver.”

“You’re a bad pick-up artist.”

“What?” I straighten up and face her profile. “I have amazing pick-up lines.”

She makes a face. “Is that why so many girls were into you last night? Because all I heard was a bunch of stuff about boobs and dragons.”

“‘Do you like dragons’ is one of the greatest pick-up lines on the planet.”

“You’re delusional. There are a million better ones than that.” She rolls her eyes and turns on her blinker to take the exit off the freeway.

“Sure, there are. Like last week when some chick said she couldn’t feel her lips, and then asked me if I could. Then she kissed me.”

The car jerks as her foot hits the brake and she turns to stare at me as she slows to a stop at a red light. “No way.”

“Awful, right? So the dragon line is a thousand times better than that.”

Audrey’s cheeks light up pale pink and she averts her eyes. “Oh, yes. Telling a girl you’ll be dragon your balls across her face later is probably the better of the two. But I suggest maybe you work on your game a little bit harder if you want to get over Kelsey.”

Cline is acting as if I killed his childhood pet and mailed him the head. He’s barely spoken a word to me since Audrey dropped me off at the house. Just grunts and an occasional sarcastic remark every time I try to engage him in conversation.

The ride back to campus should be fun.

We have everything packed and ready to go when he finally addresses me. “Let’s get outta here.” He shoves his ugly-ass fedora on his head and swings the front door open as though it has offended his mom and he’s exacting his revenge.

I figure it best not to bring up Audrey anymore until I can figure out just exactly what the hell his problem is. But I don’t have to mention her at all.

 She's standing outside, leaning against her car with a huge pair of sunglasses on her face. In her left hand is a purple Popsicle, and she has it pressed between her lips as she watches us load the car.

"Hey, Cline!"

He turns and regards her with a scowl on his face. "What?"

"I like your hat!"

He angles his neck like he's not quite sure if she's offering him a compliment, but he raises his hand and runs his fingers along the brim of the thing on his head. “Really?" It’s sad that he seems a little hopeful that she means it.

She laughs and shakes her head. "No. It's awful. You look like an idiot."

He opens his eyes wide, and his mouth follows as he pretends to reach into his shirt pocket. His hand emerges, and he's holding up his middle finger, looking surprised by what he's found. “
You’re
an idiot,” he mumbles and turns back around.

I can hear her chuckle clear across the street. She motions for me to cross over to her, so I do, my hands shoved into my pockets, because she makes me a little nervous.

Audrey tips the melting dessert in my direction. "Tell him the fedora isn't working. Save him some embarrassment. "

"I've tried."

“It’s a shame. All that male ego … You, on the other hand." She rolls her head to the side, and I wish I could see her eyes as she looks me up and down. "I like those glasses on you."

"My contacts are ruined. I don't wear these glasses much.” The weight of them on the bridge of my nose causes my nostrils to flare.

"You should. But lake water will do that to contacts. I should have warned you. I mean, I would have if I had known you were going to get trashed and try to swim at two o’clock in the morning. But I’m not a fortune teller or anything.”

I kinda think ruining my contacts was worth her compliment, but I don't tell her that.

She holds out the Popsicle in offering. "Want a bite?" If she's asking, then I'm not going to say no, so I dip my head and bite into it, pulling away to smile, grape sugar coating my tongue.

I press my thumb to the side of my mouth and clean off the bit that has escaped. Her eyes are staring as I do, and I'm quiet for a second, lost in thought before she laughs and finishes the rest of the Popsicle off.

"What are you thinking about?"

I grin, and I'm brave looking at her. "I'm thinking that right now, at this very moment, I know what your mouth tastes like.”

If electricity could crackle between two people, there might have been a sound. But all I hear is the hush of her soft exhale followed by a sticky-lipped whistle. “Best one, yet, Elliot. You should invent something to carry around with you so you can have these on hand at all times just so you can use that line. Like some kind of insulated fanny pack for frozen treats.” She waves the stained stick in front of my face.

The moment loses its magic, and I find myself laughing at the idea of her invention. “Yeah, maybe. That would definitely get my mind off
Kelsey
.” I say it just to see her smile. She doesn’t disappoint.

“See ya around, Elliot.” Audrey’s cheeks push her sunglasses up higher on her face when she grins, and then she turns around to go back inside her house.