Canary (7 page)

My sleep had been fitful. I woke off and on to make sure my phone hadn't fallen out of my hand, slipping into my covers so I'd miss the alarm and wake at the regular time or, worse, late and I'd have to rush to school, bypassing a shower and the hair dryer. I sweated under my sheets, tossing with strange dreams that evaporated as soon as I woke and tried to remember them.

It turned out the alarm wasn't necessary. I got up before it went off. I was anxious to see Jack at school. I had watched him play Saturday in the scrimmage, but he was with the team and I never had the chance, or the nerve, to say anything more to him. Today I would see him at school, and I planned to talk to him.

I needed to prepare. Usually, sleep overruled my morning beauty routine, but today, and maybe for the rest of the days this year, it was more important to look good. No matter how long that took.

I grabbed a towel and my shower caddy and crept past Dad's room and then Brett's to get to the stairs. Dad had installed an extra shower in the basement shortly after my parents had bought the house, and while I usually didn't shower there, it was perfect for me today. I took my time shaving my legs, covering myself with fruit-smelling lotions and leaving the deep conditioning mask in my hair long enough to hopefully make it smooth and shiny. The extra two hours gave me enough time to blow-dry and straighten my hair and try to make my makeup look good. I couldn't do much with my school uniform, but there were enough other parts of me that could use a little work, and I wanted to make sure they were perfect or at least decent before I saw Jack.

Once I was convinced my hair was as straight as it would get, I headed into the kitchen.

Brett waved a hand around his nose. “Whoa. If you think I'm letting you in my car smelling like you bathed in a gallon of perfume, you're delusional.”

“Shut up.” I grabbed one of the bagels from the bag he'd left open.

“Seriously, we're driving with the windows open.” Brett tossed his plate in the sink, even though the dishwasher was right next to him.

I finished my bagel, brushed my teeth again, and headed to the garage, where Brett sat honking the horn.

Thankfully, he didn't make me ride with the
windows open.

The morning sped by. I weaved through the halls on adrenaline, half-excited and half-terrified of running into Jack until it was time for lunch, when running into him wasn't a fear but a certainty. He had the same lunch block, and I knew exactly where he and a bunch of basketball players sat.

I pretended to listen to everyone at my table, nodding once in a while to look interested, but I was really watching Jack. I planned to follow him out of the cafeteria, and I hoped he wouldn't leave in a group.

Luck must have been on my side because he got up when there were about five minutes left.

I jumped out of my seat and grabbed my stuff. “I gotta go,” I told everyone.

“What? We still have a bunch of time,” Ali said. “You haven't even finished your lunch.”

“I forgot I had to print a paper for English.”

I rushed out before Jenna, who had English with me, could question the paper we didn't have due. I threw my food in the trash and followed Jack. I must have looked like a crazy woman dodging tables and students. I probably took out two or three freshmen.

“Jack, wait,” I yelled when I'd nearly caught up to him.

He turned and stared at me blankly.

My stomach dropped. This was a mistake. He didn't even remember me.

And then he did. “Kate, what's up?” And everything was perfect in the world.

I grabbed his sweatshirt out of my bag. It killed me to give it back, but I needed a reason to talk to him. “Your sweatshirt. I thought you'd want it back.”

He took it and shrugged. “Thanks. I'd forgotten about it.”

“I wanted to give it to you . . .” Now that I'd used my excuse to talk to him, I couldn't think of anything more to say. “Well, okay. I gotta go to class.”

He nodded and turned to walk away.

I closed my eyes and let out a slow breath. I'd blown my chance.

But I was wrong. When I opened my eyes again, Jack was facing me. “Are you going to Joe's on Friday?”

I shrugged and pretended to act casual, as if I
obviously knew who Joe was and had been planning for weeks to go to his party. The bell rang, and
students spilled into the hallway.

“Maybe I'll see you there,” he said before he turned to catch up with another sophomore I
recognized because he always walked around with a basketball in his hand.

“If you're lucky.” The words slipped out, and I was surprised at how natural it felt to flirt with Jack.

“I hope I am,” he said over his shoulder.

Somehow, by some divine miracle, I did come to know about Joe's party.

I finally told Ali and Jenna about my conversation with Jack outside the hotel, and they didn't protest when I told them I wanted to start watching practices.

“You should totally hook up with him. He has a legit sensitive side. I remember when we were in third grade, he smuggled his new puppy into school. He hid the dog in his book bag. Who can resist that?”

I laughed and agreed.

The three of us started attending practices after school each day, sitting in the bleachers, joining parents and girls who were dating team members. One of the girls was with the now infamous Joe Radcowski and started to talk about the party he was throwing while his parents visited his brother in college.

“It's going to be crazy,” she gushed. “Have you been to a Beacon party yet?”

I shook my head. There was no way for me to lie. It had only been a few weeks. I didn't know which past parties to even pretend to have attended.

She didn't seem to mind. “You have to come to this one. What's your number? I'll text you the address. You'll love it. Joe's parties are always a good time.”

I gave her my number and wondered what I'd gotten myself into. I'd never been to a high school party. After Mom died, high school things didn't seem important, especially parties full of people I didn't talk to anymore. My version of what went on at these parties came from the images I'd seen on TV or in movies. The ones where everyone dances like a maniac, the alcohol flows, and you either throw up, pass out, have sex, or get arrested. None of these options appealed to me, but I agreed out of curiosity.

There was also the little fact that Jack would be there.

Who was I kidding? Jack being at the party was the reason I agreed.

The next day, when Ali and I were sitting in my kitchen making plans, Brett walked in and stood with the refrigerator door wide open. He pretended to search for something, but I wasn't stupid. He was listening to the two of us. After Ali left, he tried to get me to change my mind.

“Why would you want to go to a party with people like that? Why don't you hang out with your old friends anymore?”

I shrugged. I tried not to think about my old friends, about how easy it was to forget people I'd gone to school with for nine years. Friends I had
declared besties forever. The people who ditched me when Mom got sick.

“These are my friends now.”

Brett frowned. “I'd be careful calling some of those people friends.”

“You'd find out they're not so bad if you gave them a chance.”

“Just make sure you keep things in control when you're at the party. Don't assume they're watching out for you.”

“Geez, you act like something horrible is going to happen.”

“I know what can happen, and I don't want it to happen to you.”

I kicked at the floor tiles and told myself to drop it. Brett was acting like this because he cared about me. Without Mom, he was the one who watched over me and worried. Dad was so busy with his basketball that I could probably hitchhike across the country before he realized I was gone. I wouldn't admit it to Brett, but I didn't mind him playing the big brother routine.

“Promise me you'll watch out for yourself until you know you can trust these people.”

“I 
can
 trust them,” I said, but I wondered why I felt so sure. I really hadn't known Ali or Jenna long.

“If you're going to drink—”

“Really, Brett? A lecture about drinking.”

He raised a hand. “Hear me out. I'm not going to tell you not to drink. I'm not stupid. Just make sure you keep an eye on your drink and eat something before you go to the party. You won't know what hit you if you start to drink without anything in your stomach.”

I gave him a thumbs-up. “Food and guarding my drink. Got it. Anything else, or are you satisfied with my safety?”

“Yeah, the most important thing—”

“Of course there's one more thing.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“Okay, Dad.”

“Seriously, Kate. Call or send me a text if you don't feel comfortable. I'll come get you.”

I gave him a half smile. This was the type of conversation you were supposed to have with your parents. “Thanks, but I'll be fine.”

“Just in case,” Brett said and grabbed his car keys off the kitchen table.

“Okay, just in case,” I promised but knew I could take care of myself.

Despite Brett's warnings and my nerves, there was no way I'd miss Joe's party. If Jack was going to be there, I'd make sure he found me. I was excited about what might happen. Especially if that something involved running my hands through Jack's hair.

I was also scared out of my mind.

The plan was to meet up with Jenna there. She'd been complaining for days that her grandma's birthday party was seriously cramping her style, forcing her to arrive at Joe's late. She claimed we'd all be guzzling beers and having the time of our lives while she had to wait for her grandma to find enough air in her lungs to blow out all her candles.

“Tonight is going to be amazing,” Ali said from the front passenger seat.

Her brother, Jeff, drove like a maniac and kept yelling at us to stop giggling. Ali had blackmailed him into giving us a ride, threatening to tell her parents about the party if he didn't. He made us promise we wouldn't drink. Ali winked at me as she promised.

There was no way I'd admit it to Ali, but I'd never gotten drunk before. The taste wasn't completely foreign to me; I'd had sips from glasses during the holidays, and once I found Brett with a beer out by the pool and talked him into letting me try some. But the idea of going to a big party—one where people probably drank until they puked and then wiped their mouths with their sleeves before slamming another beer—scared me.

But ready or not, Jeff swung the car into an open spot on the street and turned off the engine. The party was packed. You could hear everyone from two blocks away, which was where we had to park because of all the cars.

“The police are going to be here soon,” Jeff warned, a weak attempt to scare us away.

Ali pumped her arms as if running. “Then we need to walk fast.”

“Be careful.” He sighed. “Don't do anything that's going to get you in trouble.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Ali slowed to walk beside me and let her brother move ahead of us.

She and I were dressed identically in jeans and long-sleeved T-shirts with tank tops underneath. Ali, however, wore a pair of shiny red heels while I wore flats like the rest of the girls we passed.

“Do you ever not wear heels?”

Ali slowly made her way up the front walk, trying to avoid the cracks in the concrete. “Nope. When you're as short as me, you gotta make sure you work it some way.”

A boy from Dad's team greeted us when we walked inside. I couldn't remember his name, but it probably wouldn't have made a difference. The music was so loud, we wouldn't have been able to hear each other talk. He put an arm around my shoulders and directed us to the beer before he disappeared through a mass of people. The house wasn't as crowded as the cars outside led me to believe, and Ali and I found our way to the kitchen without having to elbow past
everyone. Getting to the keg was a different story. The space around it was crammed with people putting their cups under the nozzle and pumping vigorously, as if that would make the beer come out faster.

“We're not getting a drink from here anytime soon,” Ali said, opening the refrigerator door. “Here, take one of these.” She handed me a can and took one for herself. “Let's go outside.”

The cold drink cooled my sweaty palms. “Do you think it's okay to drink these?” I didn't want to seem like a loser, but I also didn't want someone to bash my face in because I took their beer.

“Relax. It's fine. When my brother has people over, I take their beer all the time. It tastes a million times better than the stuff in the keg, and usually whoever brought it is too drunk to notice.” She popped the tab and gestured for me to do the same. “Enjoy yourself. Tonight is going to be a good, good night.”

I opened my can and held it up.

“Cheers.” Ali clinked her beer against mine.

I took a tentative sip, wrinkling my nose. When I saw that Ali was watching, I took a bigger one. “Cheers,” I responded, feeling the sour liquid bubble down my throat.

We made our way to the backyard, which was packed with bodies. I looked around for Jack, but there was no sign of him.

The night was windy, but with so many people bumping shoulders, it felt warm. Perfume, sweat, beer, and cigarettes mixed in the air, creating a unique scent that wasn't good but wasn't all that bad either. Ali spotted Jenna, who must have escaped from her grandma's party early, and we fought our way over to her, trying to move fast so they wouldn't disappear into the sea of people. Plastic cups cracked under my feet, and the cuffs of my jeans were quickly soaked from the wet grass blades, the cold ends like slippery fingers grazing my feet. Music pulsed out of a second-floor window, so loud the song was distorted and hard to decipher. Cigarette butts sparked in the backyard like fireflies, flashes of light, glowing for a second with each intake of breath and then disappearing in a haze.