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Authors: Lisa Luedeke

BOOK: Smashed
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“It’s no big deal, Cassie,” I said when it stopped. “I’ll get rid of him.”

She picked up her bag and finally cracked a smile. “Please do.”

*     *     *

Alec’s loud laugh carried across the field and bounced off the gym as I emerged. In the distance, I could see Matt talking to Coach Riley, his head tilted to one side, a habit he’d developed
from being so tall. Behind them, the oak trees on the hill swayed slightly in the wind. Most everyone else was gone.

But not Alec.

“Hey, good game, Katie,” he said, approaching with Scott at his side.

“Congratulations.”

Scott glanced at Alec, then walked away, football tucked under one arm.

“We’ll pick you up at eight,” Alec said to me.

“I can’t go.” My eyes darted uneasily in Coach Riley and Matt’s direction.

“How come?” His words were a challenge. He looked at me as if he dared me to say it again.

“Katie.
How come?
Scott and Alyssa are counting on us.”

“My mom won’t let me.”

“Bull.”

“What?”

“I said
bull.
” He flashed a smile. “Your mother lets you go anywhere you want—when she’s
home.
You’ve been to every party within fifty miles since freshman year.”

“So? That was before I ended up drunk in an emergency room at six a.m. She’s not so trusting anymore.”

His smile vanished. “So your mother’s home tonight?”

I didn’t say anything, just looked past him toward the field. I didn’t want him to know the truth. How scared I was of getting caught by Coach Riley, of blowing my future.

“I didn’t think so,” he said.

I barely heard him. Coach Riley had turned and stood still now, her eyes fastened on Alec and me. My stomach lurched; I had to get away.

“I have to stay in tonight, Alec. I
have
to.”

His eyes fixed on mine and held. “Well, I’d give it some serious thought, Martini. I mean—if I were in your shoes.”

Was that a threat? Something inside me snapped. What was he going to do, tell everyone I was driving? Accuse me of that
now
? Who would actually believe him?

“You know what?” I said, emboldened. “Do what you want. If I go, my hockey career is over, anyway.”

“Well,” he said, a slight smirk on his face. “Then we’ll just have to work something else out.”

22

The sun had slipped behind the mountains on the western side of the lake, turning them a dusky blue, then darker still—a black ridge against a clear, star-filled sky.

Inside my house, I paced the living room, restless. I flipped on the stereo and turned the volume up loud—loud enough that I could feel the music vibrating up through the floorboards and into my bare feet—then flopped onto the couch. The Fly: the best band in the world.

The phone rang behind me. I reached over my head and grabbed it. “Hello?” I said. “Hold on . . .” I ran to shut off the music; it was Stan.

“Tell me the vicious rumor isn’t true.”

My heart stopped. Had Alec freaked out on me and told people?

“What are you talking about, Stan?”

“That you’re not coming to my party tonight, what else?”

“Oh, shit,
that
.”

“Hey, what’s more important than my big event?”

I laughed, relieved. “Nothing, believe me.”

“All right, then, that’s what I like to hear. So we’ll see you tonight?”

“No, no, you heard right. But believe me, staying home wasn’t my idea.” I filled him in on Coach Riley’s lecture, what she’d said about contracts and parties, how she’d benched me at the scrimmage.

“Whoa. That’s harsh. You weren’t even driving the damn car.”

“She’s freaked out about the scholarship thing.”

“Damn, that sucks. Maybe we could smuggle you in, hide you somewhere. My attic’s pretty nice. A few bats, but they’ve never bitten anyone.”

“It wouldn’t matter. Riley might not find me, but
Alec
would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Alec’s just . . .”

“Alec’s just
what
?”

I’d said too much; I felt it right away. If Alec heard I was bad-mouthing him, even a little, he might feel like getting even. And what right did I have to say anything about him after what
I’d
done?

“He’s just being a jerk. But what’s new, right?” I said, lightly.

“Christ, he almost killed you. Isn’t that enough?”

It was weird how used to hearing that I was—from Stan, from Cassie—used to hearing everyone talk about Alec crashing the car. “He just wanted me to go with him tonight. No big deal.
Alec doesn’t get it. Why would he? Your coach is nothing like Riley. A few extra push-ups and it’s over, right?”

“Word is Alec’s dad took care of that. He’s buddies with Coach Swenson.”

“See? It figures. Listen, I was just kidding about Alec. He’s fine. And I’m sorry I can’t come tonight, Stan. I really am.”

“Well, my sources tell me a bunch of your sworn-to-sobriety teammates are going to show up, but I won’t give you a hard time.”

“Thanks, Stan.”

I hung up, walked through the kitchen, and stepped out onto the porch. A full moon had risen high over the tree line and hung suspended, shiny and pale. Its luminous glow backlit thin clouds, making them visible in the night sky. Cold air filled my lungs and goose bumps rose on the flesh of my bare arms.

Stan would have a fire burning in the big stone fireplace in his barn tonight. They’d be sitting around it, laughing and talking, playing quarters with mugs of beer on the wide wooden floorboards.

Let them
, I thought. There’ll be other parties. My friends, Coach Riley, a hockey scholarship: these things were more important than a night out. They had to be.

A door slammed across the street, the sound echoing up our lonely dead-end street. A moment later Matt appeared out of the shadows and waved as he stepped onto the silvery moonlit grass.

“Help me get some wood?” I asked.

He nodded and followed me out toward the barn.

By the time Cassie’s father dropped her off, the wood stove was lit and the fire crackling. She put a large pizza and three DVDs on the kitchen table: a new horror movie and a couple of comedies. Since I was going to be home alone all night after they left, the scary one was going in first. A comedy would help me forget it.

“If we’re going to watch this, I want you guys on either side of me,” I hollered from the kitchen, where I was digging for cookies in the overflowing cupboards. My mother kept the place stocked with enough food to feed several professional basketball teams at all times. I think it made her feel like she was taking care of us.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen it before,” Matt hollered back.

“I haven’t.”

“Well, one just like it,” he said.

“It’s not the same thing.”

He snuck up behind me then and grabbed me suddenly with both hands, poking me in the ribs. I dropped the cookies I’d found and went after him, chasing him into the living room. “You’re dead, buddy!”

“Break it up, you guys. I’m starting it.” Cassie was on the couch with the remote aimed at the television screen like a gun.

I picked up a pillow and hurled it across the room at Matt. He ducked.

“Hey!” Cassie yelled, but Matt tackled me, tickling me.

“Cut it out! I can’t breathe.”

“Leave her alone,” Cassie said.

“What’re you, my mother?” Matt let go of me and whipped a pillow at Cassie.

“You’re a bully,” she said, and scowled at him.

Thoughts of Stan’s party were gone. Snuggled between my two best friends on the couch, I felt safe. By the end of the first movie, I’d completely relaxed, my head on a pillow on Matt’s shoulder.

*     *     *

Hours later, Cassie and I stood barefoot on the cold porch and watched Matt disappear into his house across the street.

“Why don’t you come home with me?” Cassie said. “Spend the night?”

“Thanks, Cass, but that’s okay.”

“It’s not healthy for you to be alone so much.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” I said.

“Like what?” She cocked her head to one side.

“Like you feel sorry for me. If your parents had wanted another daughter, they would have had one. They don’t need me hanging around all the time.”

“Don’t you like my parents?” Her question was genuine.

“You know I do. I’m just . . . I’m not a charity case.”

“I know you’re not.”

“Anyway, I can’t imagine they’re too happy with me right now.”

“They’re fine with you.”

“Come on, Cassie. If you’d been in that accident, you’d be
grounded for the rest of your life. I’m surprised they let you come over here tonight.”

Cassie looked away.

“I wish you could stay overnight here for once,” I said.

“You know I can’t unless there’s an adult here.”

“Yeah, and
that
never happens.”

“I’m sorry . . .”

“Don’t be,” I said. “At least you know they care.”

23

Cassie and Matt were long gone.

From my bed, I could see the lone light that Matt’s mother left on in their upstairs hallway each night. When I was a kid, my mother would leave my window shade half up so I could see their light anytime I woke up. It was like a distant night light that kept me company.

The moon had risen high over the dark silhouette of Matt’s house. It looked calm sitting up there, spreading light across the cold September sky. I read a few pages of my book until the words began to run together. . . .

It was nearly two thirty a.m. when I woke up, suddenly, to the sounds of a car swinging into my dirt driveway, gravel crackling under its wheels, the engine humming loudly in the quiet night. My body was in full alert; my heart beat like crazy. Who would be in my driveway at this hour?

I peered out the window, frozen, unsure what to do. The headlights were bright and I couldn’t tell the shape of the car
attached to them. But I had to find out—or get to a phone. Slipping out from under the bedcovers, I made my way across the dark bedroom toward the hall.

Possibilities raced through my mind: Had my mother’s schedule changed? It wouldn’t matter—she never drove home this late. Had Matt’s uncle Paul showed up drunk again and pulled into the wrong driveway? Not impossible, but not likely either, since Matt’s mom had banished him from their house months ago. Fear crept through my belly. This was a dead-end street. The only people who came by here lived out here. There was no good explanation, and I knew it.

The car moved forward around the curve of the driveway as I tiptoed down the stairs, its high beams flashing through the windows and across the living room like a searchlight. I wondered if I should turn on the lights to let it be known I was there—awake, alert, ready to take on intruders.
No
, I thought.
See the car first
. Still as a statue, I waited.

It seemed like forever before the headlights clicked off and the driver cut the engine. A car door slammed; then the hollow
thunk
of footsteps crossed the old wood floorboards of the porch. Heart bursting from my chest, I ran for the phone, ready to push a button and call Ron Bailey or Harlan Reed, but someone was knocking loudly, persistently—urgently.
If someone’s pounding on my door at two a.m., maybe they have a good reason
, I thought desperately. I took a deep breath, switched on the porch light, and peered out the window.

It was Alec, one muscular arm extended, hand on the doorframe, the other holding a six-pack by his side.

“Jesus Christ,” I said loudly, fear turning to anger.

“Katie?” he called. “Open the damn door. It’s cold out here.” He rapped again impatiently. “I know you’re in there.”

I flung the door open. “How’d you know it wasn’t my mother? Keep your voice down, will you?” I whispered.

“You can cut the act. Your mother wasn’t here before and she’s not here now. Her car’s gone.”

“Well, she could’ve been. And my brother is sleeping upstairs.” There was no way he could know that wasn’t true.

“Right,” he replied, pushing past me into the kitchen. “Beer?” he asked. “I got Corona—your favorite. I even”—he reached into his jean pocket—“brought a lime.” He held it out on his palm like he was presenting a golden egg.

“What are you doing here? It’s two in the morning, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“You couldn’t go to the party, so I’m bringing the party to you. This is the thanks I get? Shit, Martini, I expected some gratitude.” He took a swig off a beer, then handed me a full one. “Have a seat,” he said to me. “Make yourself at home.”

I looked at the bottle in my hand, then put it on the table. Was Alec trying to get me in trouble? Give me beer, then make sure my coach heard about our after-hours party of two?

“Drink up. There’s plenty more.”

“I’m not thirsty.”

“Right. Like that ever stopped you.”

“Look, you can’t stay here. You’re going to wake up Will.”

“You know, you’re a little uptight lately. You need to loosen
up, have some fun.” He banged his beer down on the table loudly and fixed his eyes on me. “You’re not getting out enough.”

I looked back at him, then away, speechless. I still couldn’t believe he was sitting at my kitchen table. Why had I opened the door? I’d known I had to break it off with Alec before we ever got into the stupid accident. Well, he was proving me right, but that wasn’t helping me now. I’d let him in—now I had to get him out.

“How was Stanfield’s?” I tried to sound casual.

“Great—you should’ve been there. Marcy caught Rob in the hall closet making out with Sue Tapley, so Marcy flings the door open and Sue jumps up, her shirt off—hanging free for all to see—and Marcy takes a swing at her. I couldn’t believe it.” He laughed. “It was a real cat fight.”

“What did Rob do?”

“That’s the best part. He just leaves them there and he’s out in the barn mixing gin and tonics for your teammates.”

“Nice guy.”

Alec shrugged. “The guy knows how to take care of himself. Marcy’s whacked. I should know.”

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