The Way I Used to Be (21 page)

“Shhh-shhh-shhh,” Mara whispers, with her finger across her lips. “Cops?” she asks, turning toward me, her eyes wide with fear.

I press my face against the wooden slats and look down at two shadowy figures, one using his phone as a flashlight. Cops wouldn't do that. “Not cops—two guys,” I whisper to Mara.

Mara slides up next to me and looks down at them. “Watch,” she whispers. She places two fingertips in the corners of her mouth and lets out the loudest, most eardrum-piercing whistle. I remember the summer when her dad first taught her how to do that, she couldn't stop—for months, it was her response to any and every situation. Though I'm sure her dad didn't intend for her to get drunk and trespass and whistle like that at strange guys.

The one with the phone aims the light in our direction. “Who is that?” he shouts.

Mara stands up and leans over the railing, waving her beer in the air, “Up here!” she calls.

“Mara!” I shout, trying to pull her back down. She grabs my arm instead, and pulls me up to my feet.

“Hey, ladies!” the other one yells. “Want some company?”

“Come on up!” Mara yells back.

“What are you doing?” I laugh.

“Something is finally happening!” she says under her breath. “Let's just have fun, okay?”

I bring the bottle to my mouth and finish off half the beer in one gulp. “Okay,” I answer, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. We watch as they climb up the tower to meet us, whispering and laughing, just like we are. Something switches inside of me, in my head and my heart and my stomach—a lightness, a weightlessness takes over me—and I feel the corners of my mouth turn up. “Okay,” I repeat.

Mara repositions her hand on her hip and adjusts her stance a few times, brushing her hair back with the other. As they approach I get a better look. They appear to be our age. Their faces seem soft—unthreatening.

“Hey,” the first one says, pushing his too-long hair behind his ears. “I'm Alex. This is Troy,” he tells us, pointing to the other. Troy raises his hand and says, “Hi.”

“I'm Mara. And this is E—”

“Eden,” I interrupt. No Edy with these guys.

“Awesome,” Troy says, nodding his head with a ridiculous smile. They're both dressed like they just don't care. A sort of disheveled, grunge look. I kind of like it. Takes the pressure off, somehow.

Alex looks at us closely and asks, “You two don't go to Central, do you?”

“No,” Mara offers. “How could you tell?”

“Because Central is full of total douche bags,” the other guy, Troy, answers.

“Except for us, of course,” Alex adds.

“So, what are you guys doing here?” I ask them, which happens to be the best conversation I'm capable of making.

“This is our spot,” Troy answers. “What are you doing here?”

“Celebrating,” Mara says. “My birthday.”

“All right! Well, happy birthday,” Alex offers. “It just so happens we have the perfect birthday present.” He nudges Troy, who reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small, flat, rectangular silver box. Mara raises her eyebrows at me. We lean in as he opens it, revealing a neat row of tightly rolled joints. “So, can we, uh, join in the party?” he laughs, gesturing to our stash of beer.

Mara smiles and sits down. Alex sits next to her. Then Troy and I sit opposite them. He smiles at me in this peaceful, silly way, and I think he must already be a little stoned. Mara passes around bottles for each of us. And Troy lights up. This sweet, pungent smoke spreads over me like a wave. He exhales and passes it to me. I hold it between my fingers for a moment, considering it.

“What, you don't smoke?” Troy asks, as if that would be the most absurd thing in the history of the world. Alex sets his phone in the middle of our circle and starts some music.

“I don't know,” I mumble with a shrug. I look at Mara.
Are we really doing this?
I try to ask her without words.

“What she means is . . . birthday girl goes first. Right?” she says as she takes the joint from me.

I don't care if I'm not being cool; I don't want her to do it.

“Mara—” I start, but I'm too late. She closes her eyes as she inhales, then exhales a stream of smoke. She opens her eyes and looks at me with a smile and a nod. She passes it to Alex, who's staring at me.

He watches me as he inhales and then passes it to Troy.

“She's scared,” Alex says, still holding on to the smoke in his lungs, grinning.

They all turn their heads toward me.

“I am not scared,” I lie.

“I feel fine,” Mara tells me. Then she turns to Alex, “I feel really, really fine.” And they start laughing hysterically.

“It'll help you relax, that's all,” Troy says softly, passing it over to me again. “Try it. Just go slow.”

I place the paper between my lips and inhale.

“Okay,” Troy instructs me, “now hold it. Just a second. Okay. Let go.”

And I exhale. I pass it to Mara, who's still laughing. It goes around the circle, from one person to the next, in slow motion.

“How do you feel?” Troy asks.

“I don't know,” I say, my words jumbled up together. Even I can hear the panic in my voice. “Dizzy, light-headed—”

“Please don't freak out!” Alex says like he's annoyed.

“You're not freaking out,” Troy assures me. “Here, try again.”

I have no idea why I do, but I do. Then Mara takes it from me.

“My heart is racing,” I tell Troy, holding my hand over my chest.

“That's normal,” he tells me, and he takes my hand and puts it over his heart instead. “See?”

“But your heart's not racing,” I tell him.

“Neither is yours,” he says, giggling.

“What?” I ask. “That doesn't even make sense,” I tell him, feeling my mouth spread out into a smile.

“It doesn't?” he laughs. “I thought it did.”

Suddenly this all feels like the funniest thing that's ever happened, so I start laughing too, until I can barely breathe.

I feel like one second I look and I see Mara and Alex laughing and the next I look and they're not there anymore. “Where did they go?” I ask Troy.

“Over there,” he says slowly, pointing down. He's pushing her on the giant horse swing. They're laughing slowly.

“Mara?” I yell.

“Hi-ii-iii,” she yells back, waving her arm over her head.

“This is so weird,” I whisper.

“Yeah,” he agrees with a smile, and he lies down, stretching out the length of the bridge.

The next thing I know, I'm opening my eyes, Mara shaking my shoulder. Alex standing behind her, their voices blending together, saying, “Wake up! Get up! Get up!”

“Dude, get up—Troy!” he shouts.

“Edy, it's three in the morning—we need to get out of here!”

“Oh, man,” Troy mumbles, moving his arm from behind my neck.

I sit up slowly from this total stranger's arms. “What happened?”

“We all fell asleep,” Mara answers. “Now we have to hurry the hell up and get home before we're on house arrest until we're twenty-one!” Mara shouts, pulling on my arm.

We hurry to gather all our things and race down the stairs and across the bridges, holding our shoes in our hands.

“OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod,” Mara mutters under her breath the entire way to the car.

“Bye!” the guys call after us.

“We are so fucked!” Mara yells once we get in the car.

“Okay, calm down. There's a perfectly good lie that can explain everything. Let's just think. You said you were staying at my house. I said I was staying at your house. Change of plans. We stayed at Megan's house instead.”

“Who's Megan?” she cries as we peel out of the parking lot.

“It doesn't matter,” I tell her, my mind thinking quickly. “We stayed up late and we were all having a good time until she started being mean and we got in an argument and left. That's why we're coming home in the middle of the night. See? Not fucked, okay?”

“You think that will work?” she asks frantically.

“Yes. Just stick to the story and act like it's the truth. Remember how good you were with the gas station guy?” I remind her.

“Uh-huh,” she murmurs, looking like she might actually cry.

“Same thing. Except easier, because my parents will believe anything. Trust me,” I assure her.

We make it to my house in only eleven minutes. Mara and I tiptoe through my front door and pause, listening for any signs that we might be caught. I silently lock the door behind us and we move to my bedroom as fast as we can. I press my hand gently against my bedroom door so it just clicks into place. I turn around to face Mara, who's standing in the middle of my bedroom with her hands palms up, her mouth hanging open.

“Did we just seriously pull this off?” she asks slowly, her mouth closing with a grin, grabbing both of my hands in hers.

“I think we did!” I whisper back.

“Holy shit!” Mara squeals, jumping up and down.

“Shh-shh,” I mouth, silently laughing.

We change out of our weed-stenched clothes and into pajamas. I roll out my sleeping bag on the floor as Mara climbs into my bed. I lie down and take a deep breath.

“We are totally badass, you realize that, right?” Mara whispers.

I feel myself grin. “Good night.”

“SO, EXPLAIN TO ME
how you wound up here last night?” Dad says, standing over Mara at our kitchen table. It has only been a few hours since we crept in; Mara meets my eyes cautiously as she scoops up a spoonful of cereal and puts it in her mouth. This was about our fifth bowl of cereal each.

“I told Mom already,” I lie. “Megan started with us, and we decided to leave. Now that Mara has a car.” I smile at him.

“I never liked Megan, anyway,” Mara adds. And we can't help it, we burst out laughing.

“Scary thought, you girls behind the wheel,” he says, blowing on his coffee. He walks into the living room, shaking his head.

“See?” I tell her.

“Hurry up, Edy. There's something I wanna go do,” Mara whispers.

Twenty minutes later we're sitting in Mara's car in the parking lot of a seedy strip mall I've never even seen before. There's a liquor store, a watch-repair shop, a hydroponics place, and a dollar store.

“Okay, you got me, Mara. What the hell are we doing here?”

“Look,” she says, pointing to a detached building at the very back of the plaza. The sign says:
SKIN DEEP: ALTERNATIVE BODY ART
.

“Again, I ask, what are we doing here?”

“You kno-ow . . . ,” she sings, unbuckling her seat belt.

“Are you still high?” I shout.

“It's my birthday!” she yells back.

“No, your birthday was Thursday. Remember, you got your car and we went out to eat. And then your birthday was Friday—I'll give you that one, okay? And we bought alcohol illegally. And then we got baked with two complete strangers from our rival school. But now it's Saturday. It's not your birthday anymore, Mara. And I am absolutely not letting you do anything you can't undo, if you're thinking what I'm thinking you're thinking!”

“Okay, Mom,” she says with a laugh, getting out of the car.

I open my car door. “Wait!” I call after her. She turns around and grins, walking backward a few steps. I run to catch up with her. “Okay, just hold on. This seems like a super shady place, Mara.”

“It's not shady! Cameron works here. It's fine,” she says, shooing me with her hand as she walks ahead of me.

“Him again?” I moan. “Mara, please.”

“Not him again. Him . . . still. Look, he's my friend, Edy. He's not a bad guy. I don't know why you hate him so much.”

“He hates me too!” I try to defend myself.

“He does not!” she snaps, reaching for the door. “Edy, please just be nice to him. I want you with me for this, okay?”