True (5 page)

“I saw her go to the front reception area like five minutes ago.” Leaning forward, I gave Licorice a kiss on the top of his fur. Joanne’s comment about being my mother, a casual compliment, made me feel melancholy. I’d been feeling weird since I’d left the coffee shop the day before, Tyler giving me a wave and not even a backward glance as we had headed in our two separate directions.

I didn’t understand what he was doing, what he wanted from me. Because in my experience, people wanted something from each other. To use them, to gain friendship, for a romantic relationship. I didn’t think he had any of those three as his motivation, and it was like a Rubik’s Cube that I kept turning around and around with no solution.

That’s why I liked animals. They were uncomplicated. You knew in the first five minutes if they liked you or not, and their affection was genuine. I had started volunteering at the shelter midway through my freshman year, and while I only went there once every two weeks because of my school and work schedule, I loved it.

Licorice suddenly closed the gap between us and licked my face.

“Thanks, buddy.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I sat up a little so I could pull it out. I had a notification of a social-networking friend request from Tyler Mann. Was that my answer? Was that literal or metaphorical?

I would need him to interpret it, and I wasn’t about to ask him.

I hit Ignore for now and went back to sliding my fingers through Licorice’s silky, thinning fur.

Chapter Five

As we walked down the street to the house where the Halloween party was being held, I was already starting to question my choice of costume. Jessica, Kylie, and another friend, Robin, and I had gone shopping Friday night, and in a rare moment of confidence in showing my inner snark to the world, I had decided to go as a
Toddlers & Tiaras
pageant princess. At the store I’d bought a crown and white ruffled socks and white Mary Janes. I’d borrowed Kylie’s homecoming dress from the year before, and it was showing both more leg and more shoulder than I was used to. With curled hair and a sash that I had written across with a glittery fabric pen, I was definitely not going to blend into the background, which was my usual choice. But at least I hadn’t bowed to the sexy pressure and wasn't walking across broken sidewalks in fifty-degree weather in sky-high heels the way my three friends were.

Robin, who had lived in the room next door to us the year before, was a sexy kitten. Jessica was a Playboy bunny. And Kylie had spent an hour fretting her way across the costume shop until finally she had settled on a sexy banana costume that had a zipper down the front so her banana could be peeled. I was trying not to judge, but it was hard to understand how she could have eyeballed at least fifty costumes and decided that she wanted to be a yellow fruit. She seemed to be wondering the same thing herself because she was worrying the whole walk.

“The yellow on these shoes is off,” she said, lifting her foot up, then grabbing me for balance. “I should have just gone with black, like that little end thingie on a banana.”

“I think you’re fine,” I told her. “You look amazing.” She did. She had a banging body, and her hair and makeup were flawless. “Nathan is going to drool, big time.”

“You think so?” she said, looking completely unsure of her.

“Of course.”

It was interesting that even someone as secure in herself as Kylie could have moments of self-doubt, and I started to wonder if maybe she wasn’t as disinterested in Nathan as she made it seem. Or liked to think.

“Fuck, it’s cold out here!” Jessica rubbed her arms and said, “We should have made those assholes pick us up. Tyler has a car. Why are we walking?”

“Because it’s only two blocks,” I said. “And we wouldn’t all fit in Tyler’s car anyway.”

“I could have sat on Nathan’s face,” Kylie said, with a giggle. “Then we would have fit.”

Jessica snorted. “I hope that Sebastian guy is here, you know the one from my International Relations class. He plays soccer with Jake, who lives in the house. Sebastian is so hot, and I would definitely like to get to know him better.”

I wanted to say “What about Tyler?” but I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself and specifically to myself regarding him. So I kept my mouth slammed shut.

The party was at a house off campus that had formerly been the showroom for a plumber and bathroom remodeler, and when they had pulled out of the business, they had, for whatever reason, left three toilets in the front display window of the old house. The backyard was also a graveyard of toilet parts, with broken tanks and bowls leaning precariously on their sides. The house had been nicknamed the Shit Shack by the guys who lived there, and when we approached the front door, there was a toilet seat hanging from a rusty nail and someone had written
Welcome to the Shit Shack
with a Sharpie on it.

Promising.

Jessica laughed.

Robin made a face, tossing her black hair over her shoulder. “These idiots better have a big keg because this week was ass. I bombed my Spanish mid-term.”

After the weekend before, I personally wasn’t thrilled with the idea of a keg, but as we entered the house, the smell of beer smacked me in the face, and I recoiled a little. This wasn’t going to go well. I could practically still taste the vomit in my mouth.

Jessica disappeared immediately, her bunny tail bouncing as she clicked down the hall toward the kitchen, scanning the room with predatory skill. Robin went left, swallowed into a crowd of sexy referees and slutty cheerleaders. Kylie took my hand and said, “Let’s get a drink.” She started weaving across the sea of bodies clad in a wide range of costumes from Edward Scissorhands to Mario.

I never really understood the girls-holding-hands-at-parties thing. Kylie was very fond of doing it, and while I suspected it was a confidence booster, a sign to everyone that she had a friend at her back, she insisted it was for my safety. But I also thought the trend was some kind of attention-getting faux-lesbian signal to guys.
Hey, look at us. We’re good friends and we hold hands . . . get us drunk and we might make out for you
. It made me uncomfortable. Because I was never going to make out with Kylie, and because I didn’t think that we needed to throw out sexual promises and innuendos to guys to get attention.

But then again, who was a virgin and who wasn’t? Who could have a boyfriend if she wanted, and who spent her time with books and shelter dogs?

Yeah.

Besides, I knew she was feeling insecure about her banana, so I held Kylie’s hand and obediently followed her to the keg, deciding I wouldn’t mind a beer after all.

“OMG, look at the keg, that’s awesome.” Kylie pulled a plastic cup off the stack and filled it with the spout of beer shooting up out of the toilet the guys had perched on top of the keg. It was like a frat boy bidet.

Charming.

Praying that toilet had never been used in any capacity other than as a makeshift beer bong, I filled a cup for myself and took a sip of the flat, cheap beer and tried not to sigh.

Half an hour later, I still had two-thirds of my beer, and I was standing there feeling bored and self-conscious. Kylie had long ago abandoned my hand, and she was fending off the third guy to try to unpeel her banana, his hand teasing on her zipper while she laughed and swatted at his wrist. Nathan was across the room, looking bitter and miserable, wearing a flight suit and aviator sunglasses. Every three seconds he glanced over at Kylie, while still maintaining a firm grip on a girl in a gingham crop top and Daisy Dukes. There was clearly some dynamic going on between Nathan and Kylie that I really didn’t want to be in the middle of, some pheromone-driven power struggle.

One of the curls was tugged on the back of my head, and I turned around to see Tyler standing behind me. He was wearing jeans and a Metallica T-shirt. “Nice costume,” I said, feeling both relieved to see him and nervous at the same time.

“I’m a Muggle,” he told me with a completely straight face.

Of course he was. “Oh, yeah? No letter inviting you to Hogwarts, huh? That sucks.”

“My parents were disappointed, but I still have my magic wand so it’s all good.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re gross.”

He laughed. “What are you supposed to be? My mom at her prom in 1988?”

“No. I’m a toddler with a tiara.” I pointed to my head and the crown.

Reaching out, he pulled the sash out straight so he could read it. “Miss Diagnosed?” He grinned. “Rory, you fucking crack me up.”

I smiled. “At least you get it. I’ve had like three people tell me they’re totally confused.”

“Your premed wit is on display, babe. Though you don’t look like any toddler I’ve ever seen.”

“Too tall?”

“Among other things.” He took my drink out of my hand and sipped it, then made a face. “Piss water. Come on, let’s go out back. I have a stash of real beer under my jacket. Brandon’s watching it.”

I had no idea who Brandon was, but I really had no desire to stay in the crowded house and feel superfluous, so I let him take my hand and lead me across the room. Apparently my hand was in high demand tonight. Tyler unceremoniously pitched the keg beer in the garbage can, and I tapped Kylie’s arm on the way by.

“I’m going outside.”

Her eyes lit up when she assessed the situation, and she gave me a rousing double thumbs-up. “Okay! Have fun!” she sang out, way louder than I would have liked, before turning back to her court of panting guys.

“What the hell is Kylie supposed to be? A rubber glove?” Tyler asked when he let go of my hand to pull open the screen door at the back of the house, waiting for me to pass.

“She’s a banana.”

He snorted. “That’s a stretch. She needs a stuffed monkey to make it believable.”

“Oh, that would make it believable?” I asked, amused. “Because that’s all yellow spandex with a big zipper needs to be convincing as fruit?”

“Smart-ass.”

I couldn’t argue that. “What is going on with her and Nathan?”

He shrugged, heading down the rotting wooden steps to the yard, which was mostly dead grass and dirt, with plumbing parts jutting up like toilet tombstones. “I don’t know. None of my business.”

Such a guy response.

Tyler approached a very short guy with a nervous look on his face as he shifted uneasily in front of a leather jacket. “I’m back. Thanks, bro.” He fist bumped the guy, then bent over and retrieved his jacket. Under it was a twelve-pack of Bud Light.

I wasn’t sure how that was supposed to qualify as superior beer, but at least it was in bottles. Tyler pulled out three and used his key ring to pop the caps off. He handed one to the other guy and one to me. “Brandon, this is Rory. Don’t be a douche bag in front of her.”

“Hey,” he said to me, his eyes shifting, looking everywhere but at me. He took a long swallow of the beer, holding it at the very top of the bottle.

“Hi.” And that’s where it ended. I sucked at small talk.

Shivering from the breeze, I scanned the yard. It was dark, but the light from the back porch cast a yellow glow over the twenty or so people standing around, talking, drinking, laughing. Suddenly, a heavy jacket landed on my shoulders.

“Stick your arms through,” Tyler ordered, his leather jacket swallowing me as he wrapped it around my body.

“I’m fine,” I protested because it felt odd, too familiar, to wear his clothes.

“Just do it. You girls are never weather-ready. I swear to God, it makes no sense.”

I thought about protesting, but he was right. I was wearing a strapless minidress, and his jacket was warm and smelled like cigarettes and cologne. Feeling very girly, I put one arm through, then transferred my beer to the other hand and repeated the process. “I was going to be a Sexy Bearcat, but someone had already bought the tank top.”

He paused with a cigarette halfway to his mouth and smirked. “I would have paid money to see that.”

Never in this lifetime.

“Isn’t anyone worried about the cops showing up?” I asked, well aware that we were right out in the open, being illegal. The Shit Shack was surrounded by dilapidated houses and sketchy wig and liquor stores, but it still seemed to me like it wouldn’t be that hard for a cruiser to drive past and decide to liven up his Saturday night with a college-party bust.

Tyler, of course, looked unconcerned. “How old are you?”

“I turned twenty two weeks ago.”

“Damn, you’re older than I actually thought. But if the cops come, pitch your drink in the bushes, then cut through the back lot to my car.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-two, so I’m legal.”

For some reason, hearing that he was more than two years older than me made him even more unnerving. I had at least thought we were numerically in tandem. “I thought you were a sophomore.”

“I am. I worked for two years after high school to save up money, though eight bucks an hour at a shitty convenience store doesn’t add up to much.”

“I guess not.” It was a reminder to me that I was lucky that my dad was paying for the tuition my academic scholarship didn’t cover. I only did work study for spending money.

Tyler sat down on a powder blue toilet, his legs spread apart. He patted his knee. “Sit down.”

“No!” I was
not
going to perch on his knee on a toilet.

He blew a cloud of smoke out in my direction and was about to say something when Jessica came up behind him. She smiled at me, then leaned over, pressing her breasts against his back, and draping her hands over his shoulders onto his chest. While she whispered something in his ear, I glanced over at Brandon, who looked as uncomfortable as I felt. Taking a huge sip of my beer, I tried to be nonchalant as I watched Tyler nod at whatever she was saying, her bunny tail rising to the sky above her perfect ass.

Oh, God. I felt anxiety rising in my throat like a clam gone down wrong before sliding back up. I didn’t want to see them make arrangements to hook up later. But Tyler leaned forward and pulled something out of his front pocket. He passed it back to her, and she slipped it down the front of her costume into the haven of her boosted breasts. She gave me a big grin, then gave Tyler a loud smacking kiss on the side of his head. He made a face and pulled away, waving her off.

“What was that?” I asked after she left, laughing at his dismissal, because I wanted to throw up and I had to know, even if I sounded pathetic or bitchy or rude.

“Vicodin. Jess wants to get high tonight since her intended fuck buddy isn’t here.”

I should have raised my hands to catch my jaw dropping, but I didn’t have time. I stared at him, mouth gaping open in shock. I thought
he
was her fuck buddy. And since when did my roommate use Vicodin? Not to mention, why did Tyler have it?

“What?” I stuttered, the bottle of beer slipping in my hand. “Oh, shit!” I gripped it harder and prevented it from hitting the ground. But then I felt so stupid and so freaked out about what I’d just heard, that I just started walking away. I wasn’t even sure where I was going.

“Where are you going?” Tyler was right behind me.

“Bathroom.” I didn’t look at him, but I could practically hear his frown of disapproval.

“Okay. You want me to go with you?”

“To the bathroom?” I shot him a look of disbelief. “No. I’ll be right back. I promise.” I would. I was wearing his jacket, and besides, I didn’t have any way to get back to the dorm. Plus, I really didn’t want to embarrass myself any more than I already had. I just needed a minute alone to get my shit together.

Someone was in the bathroom, of course. The door opened and it was Jessica.