The Boy I Love (18 page)

I made my way to the kitchen and introduced myself to Caroline's mother. She stood at the stove ladling out mugs of eggnog (unspiked, of course), but I couldn't see drinking anything so heavy, so I got a bottle of water from a big cooler. Through the kitchen's sliding glass doors I could see just what I'd imagined—a great big glistening pool. In December, even in North Carolina, nobody would go swimming. But they had floated these pretty little candles on top of fake lily pads, and lots of kids stood around it talking. I had thought Tim was right behind me, but now I saw him
out by the pool saying hey to Devon and Jay. Devon reached into his jacket and handed Tim some kind of bottle, which I guessed was whiskey. Tyler walked up, and Tim laughed at something he said, then took a giant swig.

Mrs. Jones told me I had a lovely singing voice. “Thank you, ma'am,” I said. “Caroline sure is a wonderful dancer.”

Mrs. Jones beamed. “She started ballet when she was three, but she was practically dancing before she could walk.”

“I'll bet,” I said.

“Caroline tells me you're Tim's new girlfriend?”

I had no idea what to say but opened my mouth anyway. Then closed it. Mrs. Jones laughed. “I wasn't trying to embarrass you, honey. We just love Tim around here. He's such a gentleman.”

Right now I could see the gentleman out by the pool, taking another big swig of whiskey. Like me, plenty of the kids here were allowed to come to this party because Caroline had promised her parents would be here. I didn't know where Mr. Jones had stationed himself, but I knew then and there that two parents were no match for the steady stream of teenagers filing in.

“Thank you, Mrs. Jones,” I said. “I sure like Tim too.”

She went back to handing out eggnog, and I slid out the glass door and headed toward the pool. For a second I wished I'd gone back to get my jacket. It wasn't freezing,
but cold enough that the breeze gave me goose bumps, even under my sweater.

“Hey, Necessity Girl,” Tim said, when I walked up. He put his arm around me. I could tell from the way he leaned into me that he'd already had several sips of whiskey.

“Hey there, Og,” I said.

Devon held his little glass bottle out toward me. I admit I was kind of curious and hated to seem like a goody-goody. But I remembered that sip of whiskey from the night at the bonfire, gagging and spitting it out. Thanks but no thanks. Anyway, the barest smell of it on my breath and I'd be grounded for the rest of my life. I shook my head.

“What a good girl,” Devon said, in this half-mocking tone that almost made me not want to explain myself. Still, I didn't seem to be able to keep from talking, so while Tyler reached over and took the swig that had been offered to me, I told them about how strict my parents were about that sort of thing.

“Man,” Jay said. “That's rough.” He looked like he'd also had more than a few sips off Devon's bottle. His lips looked red, and so did his cheeks, even though he was wearing his big, thick varsity jacket.

“You look nice and cozy in that jacket,” I said.

He immediately did the Southern gentlemanly thing by taking it off and putting it over my shoulders. As I slipped my arms into the lined leather sleeves, I caught sight of Allie,
across the pool, glaring. It would have surprised me to see her if half the school hadn't been filing into Caroline's front hallway. I could see Mrs. Jones through the kitchen door, glugging eggnog into the big pot on the stove. Her efforts might have proved more useful elsewhere, because clearly Devon was not the only guest handing out liquor.

Allie came over to us with her new best friend, Ginny. They were both pretty dressed up, wearing makeup, and I suddenly felt self-conscious about my naked face and Old Navy jeans. I pulled Jay's jacket around me a little closer.

“Well, hey there,” Devon said to Allie. He held out his bottle of whiskey, or whatever it was. To my surprise she grabbed it and took a giant swig.

“Whoa there,” Devon said. “Slow down, little lady.”

Ginny laughed, and after a second swig, so did Allie. “So where's Rachel?” she said to Devon, refusing to look over at Tim or me.

“Right over there,” Devon said. He jutted his chin toward a cluster of cheerleaders, a few feet away. You can better believe Rachel had her eyes right on Allie and Devon, and I admired her for not rushing directly over.

Allie stared right back at Rachel, then took another sip of the whiskey, which she still hadn't handed back. Ginny reached over, took the bottle, and tried a sip of her own, but it looked pretty dainty. Even so she scrunched her nose up
in a way that you knew she wouldn't be reaching for that bottle again.

“Hey, Allie,” Tim said. His voice sounded different than usual, like there was a rubber band around his tongue. “Aren't you going to congratulate your friend Wren?”

Everybody was quiet for a minute. Allie looked over at me quickly, then looked away. Then she said, “Tim, I thought
you
were so funny and great. I about died laughing when you sang that ‘Something Sort of Grandish' song.”

“But what about Wren?” Tim said. He grabbed hold of my sleeve and pulled me closer to him. “What about sweet little Wrenny, your best friend? Don't you think she sang so pretty? Wasn't she great?”

“Yeah,” Allie said. She must have heard how insincere this sounded because she added, in a perkier voice, “You did a good job, Wren.”

“Thanks,” I said. The whiskey bottle went around one more time. By the time it got back to Allie, there was only about one gulp left.

“Bottoms up!” Devon said. “I have another one in the car.”

Allie threw back her head and finished off the bottle. I hoped Mrs. Jones couldn't see her through the glass door, because she didn't bother being subtle about it.

Devon headed out to the car to get that other bottle, and Allie, Ginny, and Rachel all went along with him.

*   *   *

More and more people were filing into the party. So much for Caroline saying it was just for the cast. It seemed like every teenager in Williamsport showed up, lounging around by the pool, laughing and yelling and sneaking drinks. Nobody seemed to worry much about getting caught, I guess with good reason, because Mrs. Jones went up to bed around midnight. I never did see Mr. Jones.

At some point I lost sight of Tim. Annie, Elizabeth Claire, and I settled in by the pool, crossing our legs on the dry deck because it was too cold to put our feet in the water. Caroline came over and sat down next to me.

“Wrenny,” she said. “How are you doing?”

She sounded about as drunk as she'd been at the bonfire party, and someone yelled, “Don't let her knock you in the pool, Wren.”

“At least I know how to swim,” I yelled back, and everybody, including Caroline, laughed. Then she held out a bottle of some kind of clear liquor and offered me a sip.

“She can't,” Allie said. “She never does.” I don't know where she came from, but there she was, kind of swaying over the four of us. Allie went on, telling them in this snotty voice about how overprotective my parents were, and how my dad might or might not have a Breathalyzer. I had actually already told them all this myself, so I just sat there, staring at her, trying to think of something to say that would sound nice enough for her to start acting like her old self.

I didn't get a chance, though, because she put a hand to the side of her cheek, like she suddenly had a headache. Then she kind of teetered off away from us, toward the bushes. She looked so unsteady I figured I'd better follow her, but then I saw Ginny chasing her down.

“Who was that girl?” Caroline said. She didn't say it in a nice way. I could understand that, based on how Allie had behaved, but I just didn't have the heart to join in any meanness toward her.

“Allie,” I said. “We used to go to the Cutty River School together.” It felt strange to say this instead of what I'd called her since I could remember: my best friend.

I braced myself for whatever they were going to say next, but apparently Allie had worn herself out as a conversation topic. Tyler came over and sat down next to me. He gave me a little hug, but the person he looked at was Caroline. “Where's your boyfriend?” Tyler asked me, looking right over my head into her eyes. Like he didn't really want to know where Tim was, he just wanted me to get out of the way and go and find him.

“Well, hello to you too,” I said. I stood up, and he smiled and flashed me the peace sign, then scooted right next to Caroline and told her how much he liked her dancing.

“Thanks, Tyler,” she said. “I thought you rocked it too.”

I decided to do what my gut told me I ought to, which was go check on Allie. It turned out she was busy puking in the
bushes. Ginny fluttered around her, looking worried.

“She's supposed to sleep over,” Ginny whispered. “But I can't bring her back like this. My parents will kill me.”

Allie wiped her mouth and muttered something impossible to understand. Then she staggered away from us a bit and slid to the ground, leaning against the pool fence. Ginny and I followed her, mostly to put some distance between us and the puke.

“Can't you sneak her up to your room?” I said.

“I live just three doors down,” Ginny said. “So we can walk home, but my Dad makes me ring the doorbell so he can see what state I'm in.”

“Well,” I said. “Maybe since you're not drunk he'll have mercy?”

“You don't know my father,” Ginny said. “He'll tell Caroline's parents. He'll tell Allie's. And he'll ground me for three months just for being near her.”

I thought about this. My parents would be plenty mad too. But they'd appreciate that I was stone-cold sober, and they'd want me to help out a friend. You can bet they'd tell Allie's parents, but they wouldn't necessarily get Caroline's involved. And they probably would wait till morning and have a talk with Allie, before calling her mom and dad.

So I made a decision. “She can come home with me,” I said. “My parents are picking me up”—I looked at my cell
phone— “in about twenty minutes.” Wow, how could it be so late already?

“The hell I will,” Allie said. “Goddamn traitor.”

“Allie,” I said. A smarter person would probably not have responded, given how drunk she was. But I went ahead and said, “Just how am I a traitor? Just how did I betray you, ever?”

“You stole my boyfriend!” she yelled, loud enough so that about four conversations stopped, heads swiveling to look at us.

I whispered as fiercely as I could. “I did not steal anyone! And he was never your boyfriend.” After I said this I glanced around, trying to locate Tim. It had been about an hour, at least, since I'd seen him.

“He would have been if it weren't for you,” Allie said. “I'm not going anywhere with
you
.”

“Well,” I said. “Sorry to tell you, you don't have much choice. Ginny won't bring you home. So it's either come with me or we'll have to call your mother to come get you right now.”

“No, no.” Allie's head had started kind of lolling to the side. “I'm fine,” she insisted. “I'm just going to sleep a minute.”

Ginny and I pulled her to her feet. She felt like she only weighed about four pounds, nothing but bone and air. We led her out to the front porch, where she slumped against the column and fell right to sleep. I sat next to her. Ginny couldn't get out of there fast enough. She barely even said
good-bye to Allie, though she did give me a pretty passionate thank-you. Somebody had turned the porch light off, and I couldn't see anything on the front lawn except the moon shadows of the live oaks and the weeping willow. I was glad I still had Jay's coat on and hoped he wouldn't mind me wearing it home. Poor Allie must've been cold. She didn't have any jacket at all.

She started to say something, and for a second I thought she was talking to me. Then I realized she was just muttering incoherently. I moved over a little bit in case she was going to puke again. From down the street a pair of headlights came heading toward Caroline's house. I took out my cell phone and checked the time again. 1:25 a.m. Shoot. I hadn't even figured out what I was going to say to them about Allie. But I knew it would be a good idea to give them a heads-up. I stood up and jogged down the driveway a bit, so I could tell them before they got their first glimpse of her.

As our car pulled up, I peered into the passenger window. Phew. It was my mom, come to pick me up by herself. She was much less likely to storm the party than my dad.

“Hey, Mom,” I said.

“Hey, Wren,” she said. “Did you have fun?”

“I did,” I said. She looked so much happier than she had in weeks; I hated to have to tell her about Allie. When I did, her face didn't fall. She just said, “Get in.” When I slid into the seat next to her, she leaned in and took a good, deep whiff
of my breath. I couldn't help it. I laughed. She laughed too.

“You sure don't smell like you've been drinking,” she said.

“Because I haven't,” I said. “Not a drop.” She didn't look quite convinced, so I said, “You could make me recite the alphabet backward.”

“That never seemed like a fair test to me,” she said. And we both tried to do it as she pulled up the circular drive, without a whole lot of success.

There sat Allie, slumped on the porch. The lights from our car illuminated half the front yard. So that we could see, my mother and I, that Tim and Jay were standing in the middle of the front lawn, kissing. Not just kissing, but making out. Jay had his hands under Tim's shirt, and they were pressed together. Let me tell you that it's no fun to see the boy you love kissing someone else. Male or female. Still, it would have been more or less inconsequential if it had just been my mom and me—Allie being too out of it to notice anything.