Ten Things We Did (And Probably Shouldn't Have) (20 page)

She almost ran through a red light. “Why would you . . . how did you . . . did your father tell you about him?”

I felt horrified. “Dad knows?”

She pulled the car over to the side of the road. “He does.”

I sank into my seat. “Is that why you’re getting divorced? Because of the affair?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s not about the affair. That’s over. Your dad and I . . . we just . . . we’ve been having problems for a long time. I’ve been unhappy for a long time. And he wouldn’t . . . he wouldn’t listen.”

“How did he find out?” I asked. I hoped he hadn’t accidentally picked up the phone. Or walked in on them. Oh God, I prayed he hadn’t walked in on them.

She looked at me. “I told him.”

Later, I wondered if that’s why she’d had the affair: So she’d have to tell him.

NOW OR NEVER

The room got dark, and then Hudson lay back down next to me.

Our faces were a few inches away from each other. I could kiss him if I wanted to. It would be so easy.

Sure, there was Noah.

But he’d been an ass. I could forget about Noah if I wanted to. Hudson could help. I could run from Noah right to Hudson.

Then I would never have to see the big black hole.

But did I want to?

Yes. No.

Noah.

I still loved Noah. I did. I knew I did.

Then why was I attracted to Hudson? Because he was gorgeous. And sexy. And kind. And because I liked being the Hottest Girl in Westport.

But that didn’t make what I was thinking about doing right.

I couldn’t hook up with Hudson because I was mad at Noah. I still loved Noah. I’d always love Noah. We had been through so much together. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—throw away two great years for feeling sexy. Being with Noah had saved me from the big black hole. I couldn’t forget that. Wouldn’t.

I pulled away, and put my head on the pillow.

“Good night, April,” he whispered.

“Good night, Hudson,” I whispered back, and closed my eyes.

REASONS YOU SHOULD ALWAYS CHECK YOUR FAKE EMAIL ACCOUNT

From: Jake Berman

Date: Fri, 27 March, 8:10 p.m.

To: Suzanne Caldwell

Subject: Tomorrow

Suzanne,

I wanted to let you know that we’ll be stopping by your place in the morning. Sorry for the late notice—I’ve been swamped. April knows I’ll be in New York, but the Westport visit is a surprise (for her birthday), so please keep it between us. Looking forward to seeing you again.

Best, Jake

Sent From BlackBerry

THE MORNING AFTER

WEEEooooWEEEooooWEEEoooo!

I bolted awake when I heard the police siren, unsure if it was a real siren—or my dad’s ring. I felt around the bed for my phone. No cell. And the futon . . . well, the futon was slightly cramped. There was a leg, a guy’s leg, a guy’s leg that did not belong to my boyfriend, flung over my ankle. Why was Hudson in my bed?

Oh God. Oh God. What had I done?

WEEEooooWEEEooooWEEEoooo!
Upstairs. The siren ring was coming from upstairs.

I looked around for some pants. The sole item of clothing in the vicinity was Vi’s red dress that I had on last night, which I vaguely remembered stripping off at one point and leaving on the dock.

That dress was trouble.

I ran up the stairs bare-legged.

War zone. Plastic cups! Beer bottles! Tortilla chips! Stains on the curtains!

There was a bra on the cactus.

Brett was in surfer shorts and face-planted on the couch. He was using the purple linen tablecloth as a blanket. Zachary was asleep in one of the dining room chairs, wearing an aluminum foil tiara on his lolled-back head. The patio door was open—and a puddle of rain was soaking into the faded carpet.

WEEEooooWEEEooooWEEEoooo!
Louder. Closer. But where? The kitchen counter! Nestled between a saucer of cigarette butts and an empty bottle of schnapps was my cell. I dove toward the phone. There was a text from Noah but I ignored it. “Hello?”

“Happy birthday, Princess,” my dad said. “Did I wake you?”

“Wake me?” I asked, my heart thumping. “Of course not. It’s already”—I spotted the microwave clock across the room—“nine thirty-two.”

“Good, because Penny and I are on our way to see you!”

Terror seized me. “What does that mean?”

My dad laughed. “We decided to surprise you on your birthday. It was actually Penny’s idea.”

“Wait. For real?”

“Of course for real! Surprise!”

This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t happen. I would lose everything. If, after last night, I had anything left to lose. I took a step and a tortilla chip attacked my bare foot.
Owww
.

Mother friggin’ crap.

“That’s great, Dad,” I forced myself to say. “So . . . where are you exactly? Did your plane just land?”

“Nope, we just drove through Greenwich. We should be in Westport in twenty minutes.”

Twenty minutes?!

There was groaning from the couch. Brett flipped onto his back and said, “It’s eff-ing freezing in here.”

“April, there’s not a boy over, is there?” my dad asked.

I sliced my hand through the air to tell Brett to shut the hell up.

“What? No! Of course not! Vi’s mom is listening to NPR.”

“We just passed the Rock Ridge Country Club. Looks like we’re making better time than I thought. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Can’t wait to see you, Princess.”

“You too,” I choked out, and hung up. I closed my eyes. Then opened them.

Two half-naked boys in the great room. One in a tiara.

More half-naked boys in the bedrooms.

Empty liquor bottles and trashed cups.

And Vi’s mom nowhere in sight.

I was a dead princess.

QUICK

“Wake up!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Vi!” My dad was on his way. My dad was on his way! The house was a disaster and my dad was on his way! I had fifteen minutes to get this place into shape. “Code red! Code red!”

Still-shirtless Brett jumped off the couch. “What? What’s happening?”

“You’ve got to hide,” I told him. “And you’ve got to put on a shirt.”

He pulled the tablecloth back over his head.

“That is not a very good hiding spot,” I said. “But first help, then hide. Slaves, activate! I need you!”

Zachary stood up and the dining room chair he’d been on fell over.

Vi came running from her room. “What’s wrong?” She had definite bed head. Definite. Dean came running out after her.

Guess I know what happened to them.

Marissa and Aaron came tumbling out of Vi’s mom’s room next.

I rubbed my temples. “People. Dad. On his way. Now. We need to make this place look like we didn’t just have a huge party. Otherwise . . .”

“Technically, no parties is not one of the rules,” Dean said. “At least it’s not on the fridge.”

“True,” I said. “But I think it’s implied.”

We all looked around, taking in the spilled glasses, the chip crumbles, the many half-naked boys.

“This does not look good,” Vi noted.

“No,” I agreed. I glanced at the clock. Nine thirty-four. Ahhh! I started picking up cups, pressing them against my body. I needed garbage bags.

“Can you keep him outside?” Vi asked.

Brett stretched his arms in a yawn. “Who are we keeping outside?”

“April’s father,” Vi explained.

“Does he live here too?” Brett asked.

“No,” I said as I crumpled an empty bag of Cheetos. “And I won’t either if you guys don’t start helping me.” I clapped my hands. “Dean, you’re on flood cleanup. Vi, get the garbage bags. Get rid of the cigarette butts. And find the Lysol. Who was smoking in here anyway? Everyone else, start cleaning. I’ll get the Miele.”

“What’s a Miele, man?” Brett asked.

“A vacuum,” I yelled. “Now go, go, go!”

TEN MINUTES LEFT

I tidied. Vi vacuumed. Everyone else scooped. “I take it April’s father would not be cool with last night’s party?” Brett asked.

“Not so much,” I said. “Keep scooping.”

SIX MINUTES LEFT

“My fingers are going to fall off,” Dean complained. “Vi, will you kiss them better?”

“Hells no,” Vi said.

I’d tell her not to be an idiot, but there was no time.

TWO MINUTES LEFT

Almost done. Rain was gone, tablecloth was back on table, chips were in the belly of the Miele.

“I’ll take out the garbage,” Vi said. “Now. Boys. You need to leave or hide.”

“We have nowhere else to go,” Aaron said. “Where should we hide?”

“Hula?” Brett asked hopefully.

“Are you crazy?” Marissa asks. “Maybe we should hide in your room?” she asked me.

“No, too risky,” I said. “What if he wants to see it?”

“Go into my mom’s room,” Vi said. “Go, go, go!” She ushered them all down the hall.

“Make sure the blinds are closed. And keep the lights off so we can pretend she’s sleeping. Anyone who talks is dead! Understood?” I ordered.

I pulled the curtains closed to hide Hula. I pulled my dad’s list off the fridge. What else? Was that it?

ONE MINUTE LEFT

A shot glass! On the coffee table! I had it . . . I had it . . . I . . .

Crash. Crap. Crap crap crap. There was no time for this. There was no time for this! I took a deep breath and then cleaned it up. The room looked fine. We were fine. I was going to deal with this. And then I remembered. Hudson. Downstairs. Sleeping. In my bed. Shit. Also—I still needed pants. I threw open the basement door and took the stairs two at a time. Donut, cast and all, tried to take off up the stairs. “No, Donut, stay!”

“Meow!”

“You have to be very quiet,” I told her, carrying her back down. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Hey,” Hudson said. “Morning.”

I wanted to crawl in beside him. “A bit of craziness going on,” I said. “My father is on his way over. Everyone’s hiding in Vi’s mom’s room.” I carried Donut over to him. “Can you be in charge of Donut?”

“Of course,” he said. “Listen, about last night—”

“Nothing happened,” I said quickly. “Can we talk about this later, though? My dad is on his way, and if he sees anyone here it’s going to be bad news.” I still couldn’t help feeling guilty. Even if nothing had happened, I shouldn’t have let another guy sleep in my bed. Even though I was pissed at Noah. I wouldn’t want another girl sleeping in Noah’s bed, would I?

“I know,” he said quickly. “But I need to tell you something. I—”

The phone rang.

I prayed that it was my father saying he had a flat tire. But it wasn’t his ring. Maybe it was Penny?

PRIVATE.

Ah! There was no time for private. But what if it was Penny? I sat down beside Hudson and motioned for him to be quiet.

“Hello?” I said. Donut tangled herself around my arm.

“April?” a woman’s voice said loudly.

“Speaking,” I said. I really didn’t have time for this. My father was going to be here any minute.

“This is Doctor Rosini. I have some news. Do you have a few minutes to chat?”

“News?” What did that mean?

“Your test for chlamydia came back positive,” she said. Loudly.

Donut bit my wrist.

“What?” I asked. Did she just say what I think she did?

“We tested your urine and it came back positive for chlamydia. It’s a sexually transmitted disease. We need you to pick up some antibiotics.”

My head was ringing. Donut was still biting my wrist. I tried to shake my arm free but she wouldn’t let go. Tears were prickling at my eyes but I wasn’t sure if it was the news or the little teeth biting through my skin.

“Donut!” I said finally. “Get off!”

“Let me take her,” Hudson said calmly, untangling her from my hands.

The cat shrieked.

“Are you okay?” Doctor Rosini asked.

“I . . . I . . .” I looked at Hudson. Had he heard? “No,” I said. I stood up, left Hudson and Donut, went into the bathroom, closed the door, and sat on the closed toilet seat. Then I got up, turned the water on full blast and sat back down. “Can you start over?” I finally said.

“You have chlamydia,” she repeated.

“Chlamydia,” I echoed.

“Yes.”

“That’s . . .” My voice trailed off. “An STD?”

“Yes.”

“I have an STD.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“But that’s impossible.”

“Aren’t you sexually active?” she asked.

“I . . . yes.”

“Then it
is
possible.”

I had an STD. An STD? How could I? I felt exposed and dirty and raw and badly in need of a shower. A hot shower. A long hot shower. I crossed my arms in front of my chest but then uncrossed them, not wanting to get so close to myself. “No, but you don’t understand. My boyfriend and I have been together for over two years.”

“It’s possible one of you got it from a prior relationship.”

I shook my head expecting her to see. “But there was no prior relationship. We were both virgins!”

“Hmmm. It is possible to transmit chlamydia through oral sex. But it’s rare.” She paused. “Are you sure about your boyfriend?”

“No, but . . .” I wasn’t sure what to say. I just kept shaking my head. Had Noah . . . had sex with someone else?

“We’d like your boyfriend to come in so he can be treated as well.”

“Noah needs to be treated too?” I asked. “He has it?”

“It is likely,” she said.

“Chlamydia,” I repeated.

“Yes.”

“But I . . . I don’t even know how to spell chlamydia.”

“Hard to spell, easy to catch,” she said dryly. “That’s part of our public service campaign.”

I’d have laughed if I hadn’t wanted to cry. “Are you sure?”

“We could do another test if you want, but these are pretty conclusive, and I’d still like to get you started on the antibiotics. To avoid complications.”

Complications? “What kind of complications?”

“If untreated, chlamydia can cause PID—pelvic inflammatory disease—which could lead to infertility.”

All her words were swishing through my brain, like dirty dishwater in the sink. “Infertility?” My heart stopped. “Do you mean I might not be able to have kids?” I thought of Penny.