The Wild One (22 page)

“It helps me concentrate. My work day is really long, and sometimes I need to pull all-nighters, you know, the usual stuff. Everyone does it.”

“That's crazy! That's completely crazy!”

I glance at Peter, who looks away guiltily. He must have taken Adderall too, I suddenly think. Back before he got fired. Then I look at Angie, but she doesn't seem fazed either. Maybe she takes Adderall. Maybe everyone takes it. Everyone except me.

“It just helps me concentrate, Coco,” says Julia. “It's not a big deal.”

“So how long till you're out of here?” asks Angie, changing the subject.

Is everyone just taking drugs to help them achieve their dreams now? That's the new norm? Fine.

What about my dreams?

I want to fall in love. Joe will never love me. And I don't care, I don't want him.

I want to fall in love with Topher.

Suddenly, almost without thinking about it, I turn around and walk toward the exit of the ER.

“Where are you going?” shouts Julia after me.

But I don't reply.

She doesn't need to know.

I'm going to Mel Arnett's party. I'm going to see Topher.

And I'm going to kiss him.

 

CHAPTER
25

The party is at Mel's apartment in Murray Hill. I texted Topher as soon as I left the hospital. It was so easy.

What's Mel's address again?

So perfect, right? Low-key, totally indicates I used to know Mel's address because of course we're in touch all the time, even though she was in Julia's year in school and we never spoke and I haven't seen her since I was fifteen and she wouldn't even remember me.

Topher texted me the address a second later. Which is practically like being invited.

As I'm waiting in the lobby of her building for the elevator, I apply red lipstick. My armor.

Just as the elevator arrives, two guys I know from high school walk into the building. Zack Ober and Jay Mitchell. They were in the year above me and below Julia and Topher and Mel, firmly in the cool group, the guys that messed around in class and played the most practical jokes. They're living in New York too? Did everyone move here after college, or what?

I hold the elevator door open for them.

“Thanks,” says Zack.

I smile at him slightly, feeling too nervous to respond. He never spoke to me in high school.

“What floor is it?” says Jay.

“Um.” I clear my throat. “Eleven.”

Oh, my God. I'm actually going to a party with the most popular people in school. The same people who always made me feel invisible, deficient, and self-conscious just walking the hallways. I remember constantly wondering: did they all get handed a “how to be cool” handbook when they turned twelve? Everyone seemed to know rules that I didn't. Everyone seemed to know what to say and when to say it. I was just … I was so clueless. Sad and clueless.

When the elevator stops, Jay holds the doors open and indicates I should exit first.

“No, no, you go ahead,” I say quickly. He held the doors open for me! So nice.

Jay and Zack leave the elevator and walk down the hallway toward an open door. The music is so loud that I can feel it in my teeth. Then we walk in.

Everyone from high school is here.

They look over at us, greets Jay and Zack, totally ignoring me. Wait, do they just not remember me? Seriously? I was in the same school as them for years.

I'll find Topher. And take it from there.

I walk though the hallway into a small living area. The tiny kitchen counter is covered in open bottles of booze and Coca-Cola and red plastic cups. It's crowded with people dancing and drinking. Mostly drinking.

A scream catches my attention, and I look up to see a couple of girls I remember as football groupies, drinking tequila straight from the bottle and falling against each other.

This is fine! This is totally fine.

Topher won't mind me dropping in. He never seems to mind anything. Though it's kind of hard to know exactly what's going on in Topher's head. He's always smiling.

Maybe it's impossible to ever really know another person, inside and out, you know? Even my friends and my sister … I'm not sure I will ever know what's going on inside their heads. Like, why is Julia so slammed at work that she has to turn to prescription drugs to keep up? Why does Madeleine seem to be retreating even farther into herself? How can I ever guess when I don't know what they've been through in their lives? I don't know what they're most scared of or want more than anything. How can I ever know someone else when I barely even know myself?

Shut up, Coco
.

I need to stop thinking, find Topher, and kiss him. And my heart needs to stop beating so fast. Why am I nervous? I'm just at a party. It's totally normal.

“Coco, hey!”

Topher. Over in a dark hallway just off the living room.

“Hey!” I smile at him, relief overwhelming me.

Topher reaches out to hug me hello. It's the first time we've officially hugged, I think, and I can smell a lemony shower gel.

“Glad you texted me. I didn't know you were coming,” he says.

“Um … I just … I was in the area.”

Behind Topher, all huddled together in the hallway, I see a bunch of the guys he was friends with in high school: the jocks. Some of them are already so drunk their eyes are half closed as they slump against the wall. It's not even nine o'clock.

Topher hands me a glass of brown liquid. I take a sip. Cheap whiskey. Not nearly as good as the stuff I've been drinking at Potstill all summer. But I don't say anything. I take a long sip, looking around.

Didn't any of them make any new friends since graduation?

So this is what happens at a party with the popular crowd. Seems like a pretty average party to me. Our housewarming for Rookhaven last year was way wilder.

The bathroom door right next to us bursts open, and four girls stumble out, all giggling and chatting over each other, pushing through the drunk guys. The last girl to walk out is Mel Arnett.

“Hey, T-bone!” she says to Topher, then her gaze lands on me. “You. I know you. Do I know you?”

“I'm Coco,” I say. “Thanks for—”

Mel sniffs and rubs her nose. “Hi, Coco! Nice to meet you! Are you guys okay? Toph, do you want anything? I can get you anything you want. Anything at all. Oh, my God, there's Jessica! I have to go! Byeee!”

Topher meets my eye as she hurries away, and winks.

“Bottoms up?” he says, and we both finish the cheap whiskey in our glasses. “Damn. Let's have another.”

“Sure!” I say. “Do you have any Kilbeggan?”

“What's that?”

“It's an Irish whiskey, kind of honeyish, um—”

“All I know is, if it's brown and it gets me loaded, I like it,” says Topher. “Scotch, rye, bourbon, Canadian, I don't give a shit.”

I smile. “I love whiskey. I think—”

But he doesn't hear me; he's already gone back to the bar to refill our drinks.

While I wait for him to get back, I look around at the party. So many people I haven't even thought about since high school. I can't believe they're all still hanging out like this.

Maybe it's just me, but there's a really weird vibe at this party.

Actually, it's not weird.

It's boring.

Then I realize: no one is laughing. Everyone is just here to be here. They're either looking at each other, or being looked at, or too drunk to see anything. Isn't that bizarre? At the parties we've had at Rookhaven, all you can hear is people laughing and talking and shrieking with joy—the sound of
fun.

“Coco…” A male voice speaks up behind me.

My chest freezes in horror. I know that voice. It's Eric.

Holding my breath, I turn around.

“You look great!”

I hate him.

I hate his stupid hair and bad skin and sleazy smile. I don't know how I could ever have thought I liked him. I don't know how I could possibly have had sex with him.

“Um, thanks…” I say, my voice barely audible above the music.

I hate him. I really, really hate him. He never even called me after that one time we slept together. I tried to tell him about what was going on, about the abortion, but he wouldn't even return my e-mails. He's that kind of guy. He's scum.

“Come with me!” Eric says, grabbing my hand. “I need to talk to you about something in the bathroom.”

“No, uh, no thanks…” I pull my hand out of his grip.

“C'mon, don't be boring!”

“She said no, man,” says Topher, coming up behind me. “Back off.”

Eric obediently backs off, going into the bathroom with a couple of the other guys he used to hang out with at school. Topher hands me another cup of cheap whiskey.

I look up at Topher, overwhelmed with gratitude. He protected me from Eric. I feel like nothing could ever go wrong while I'm with him.

“Don't mind Eric. He's a fucking douche,” he says.

“He totally is,” I say. “A complete fucking douche.”

Topher leans in to me, rubbing his shoulder against mine. “I'm glad you came.”

I can hardly breathe. “I'm glad I came too.” I look up at him. His lips aren't that far from mine. Maybe if I tilted my head, just like this, and gaze at him, he'll lean down and kiss me.

Kiss me now,
I think, as forcefully as I can.
Kiss me please kiss me kiss me kiss me now.

But he doesn't.

How can I get him to kiss me? Do I just lean forward and kiss him? Do I gaze at him until he kisses me? How did I first kiss Joe? I can't remember. It just happened. Damn, that was a good kiss. No, don't think about Joe, that makes me feel weird. Should I just try to kiss Topher? Fuck it. Why not.

So I twist my body to face Topher, get on my tiptoes, lean my face into his and—

“Toph!”

The most beautiful girl in the world is standing right in front of us.

Long brown hair and long brown legs and long brown eyelashes that
must
be extensions,
seriously,
and a teeny-weeny little black dress.

Oh, no.

“Maggie!” Topher puts his arm around her waist, pulls her tight against his body, and kisses her passionately. I can see their tongues.

I inhale sharply. My God, she's like a Bratz doll. Her legs are so thin I'm surprised they can hold her up. Is she Topher's girlfriend? He's never mentioned a girlfriend, has he?

She's pressing her body against his so hard that I feel like I'm intruding on their personal space, so I look down at the floor.

Maggie's wearing four-inch platform heels, the kind that Angie always says are “urgh, so basic.” Her toes are pretty. She has a predictably perfect pedicure in the kind of shiny apricot-blush-nude color that I can never find at the nail salon, ever, no matter how many bottles I swatch before choosing a color. I glance at my ancient sandals with my three-week-old half-cracked purple pedicure underneath. Why did I choose purple? It's the worst color. My toes look like dead grapes.

Finally, Maggie and Topher pull apart, and her eyes swivel around the room, eventually landing on me. “This must be…”

“An old buddy from Rochester,” says Topher. “Coco, Maggie. Maggie, Coco.”

“Oh, right! Coco! You're just like Topher described!” She smiles at me. Her eyes don't seem to move or crinkle like they should and her forehead is all plastic and hard. I stare at her curiously. Does she have Botox? Is that already a thing?

“You're the reason Topher passed his class, I hear.”

“I am?” I say. “Oh, um, you mean because I helped edit his paper?”

“You didn't edit it. You wrote it.”

“Are you calling me stupid, Maggiemoo?” Topher kisses her again. Wow, he likes to use a lot of tongue.

“Um, so, how do you guys know each other?” I ask.

“Maggie and I met last year,” says Topher. “She lives in L.A., but her parents live here, on the Upper West Side—”

“Central Park West,” she corrects him quickly.

“—so she visits a lot,” he finishes, not minding her interruption at all.

They lock eyes for a moment, twinkling prettily at each other, like something out of a reality TV show.

“Um, what do you do in California?” I ask just to fill the space.

“I work for a movie producer.” Maggie has just enough brag in her voice to make me immediately sure that I hate her.

“Maggie and I are heading to the Hamptons tomorrow to take a couple of weeks off before fall semester starts,” says Topher.

I tried to kiss him and he has a
girlfriend.

What was I
thinking
?

“Can you open this?” asks Maggie, handing Topher an expensive-looking bottle of white wine. “You know I can't drink cheap alcohol.”

“Sure, baby. Another drink, Coco?” says Topher.

“No! I mean, um, no thanks,” I say quickly, draining the rest of my whiskey. “I have … to work! Yeah! I have to work!”

“Oh! Where do you work?” Maggie asks, smiling prettily.

“A bar in Brooklyn.” I drop my bag twice in my hurry to leave. “Bye!”

“Nice to meet you, Coco!” She calls after me.

As I'm walking away, I see Eric again.

“Coco!” Eric reaches out for me, a full plastic glass of beer in one hand.

I grab it from his hand and,
splash,
throw the beer right into his face.

“What the hell?” he splutters.

“Go fuck yourself, Eric.”

I walk out of the apartment and slam the door behind me. Then I rush to the elevator, and as soon as I'm out on the street, I hail a cab. It's going to cost a lot to get me all the way to Brooklyn, but I don't care.

I'll never fall in love. I'll never figure out what to do with the rest of my life. I need to distract myself from everything that is real, I need escapism in the true sense of the world, and no, a book won't fucking cut it tonight.