Double Threats Forever (11 page)

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Authors: Julie Prestsater

Tags: #High School

BOOK: Double Threats Forever
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“Looks like it’s just the originals,” Steph says. My gaze traces back and forth from Keesh to Steph. She’s right. The three are like the base of our wacky group of friends.

“Hey,” Keesh begins. “Let’s do a shot for Ben.”

“He’ll be home for Thanksgiving,” I say. “Can’t wait to see him.”

Steph steps away for a second and comes back with some fluorescent pink plastic shot glasses. “Pour a round, Meg.” I crack open the bottle and tip the bottle over each of the little cups. Each of us takes one. “To Ben,” she says, holding up her shot.

“To Ben,” Keesha and I repeat. Then the three of us are like synchronized divers tossing back the cold fluid.

“This isn’t that bad when it’s cold,” Steph says, even though her facial expression says differently.

“You’re right. Let’s do another.” The girls hold out their cups and I pour another. “To Alex and his internship. May those uptight office people love him as much as I do.”

“To Alex,” Keesh says. “And your love.”

We suck down shot number two.

“Another,” Steph says, wiggling her cup in my face. “This one is for Jon Jon.”

“Yeah, but let’s get a picture this time.” Eric is just about to pass so I get his attention and toss my phone to him. “Take some pics of this.”

He gets one of us squished together with the bottle in between us. Then another holding up our shot glasses. And finally one with our heads tilted back and our cups at our lips.

“You guys should slow down,” he says, handing over my phone.

“Why?” Keesh asks. “We’ve only had two shots.”

“Three,” Steph corrects her.

“Who cares? Let’s toast one to ourselves.” And here I go again, pouring our fourth round of tequila shots.

Not a very good idea.

 

My head is pounding. I feel like I’m in some kind of cartoon and a woodpecker keeps tapping on my skull. I reach for my phone on my nightstand and peek at the time with only one eye open. It’s only ten in the morning. I think I might stay here for the rest of the day. For the rest of my life.

There are a few new text messages. From Alex.

The first one came in just after midnight.

Looks like ur having fun ;-)

The second one came through at three. Oh god.

Call me whn u wake up in mornng. Or by the looks of it … the aftrnoon lol

Both my eyes finally flash open. Squinting to adjust to the light, I quickly tap on the screen to scroll through my
sent
text messages.

I don’t know whether to laugh or crawl under my bed.

I sent him the three pictures Eric took of us along with some more incriminating shots. Another photo has me holding a straw to my mouth with the other end disappearing into a tequila bottle. Cleavage shots of four sets of boobs can be seen in another. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who they belong to. The last one is a picture of me tossing a bright orange ping pong ball with the caption, “OMG! I’m drinking dirty ball juice!”

Nice. Very nice.

And then, I see a text without a picture.

Dont worry bro. Not as bad as it looks. I got ur girl taken care of. Dom

I let my arms fall back to my side and I rest, trying to give my head time to settle before I attempt to speak.

“Hey,” I mutter through a scratchy throat.

“Hi, how ya feeling?” Alex asks.

I close my eyes. “Been better.”

He chuckles. “I bet.”

“Are you laughing at my pain?”

“Never. Did you have a good time last night?”

Images of the girls and I dancing all over the suite, playing pong and other drinking games reel through my mind. “Definitely.”

“Then that’s all the matters.”

“Tell that to my mom and dad when they see me. They’re gonna kill me.”

He chuckles again. “No, they’re not. You always forget how understanding they can be. Did they even see you when you came in?”

“I don’t know.”

“See, you’re probably worried for nothing. Loved your pics, by the way.”

It’s my turn to chuckle. “Which was your favorite?”

“The drinking out of a straw was funny, but I love the beer pong shot. I wish I would’ve been there. I never thought I’d see you play the game.”

“Don’t remind me. You know that game is one of the leading causes in the up rise of herpes cases in college students?” Suddenly I sound like the surgeon general.

“Yes, you’ve told me. Many times. And since, I refuse to play with anyone unless they wash their hands in front of me after taking a leak.”

This makes me laugh out loud. “Don’t make me laugh. My head hurts and moving my belly makes me want to hurl.”

There’s a quick tap at my door before my mom comes in.

“Just a sec,” I tell Alex. I take a deep breath summoning any kind of normalcy I can pull off right now. “Good morning, Mom.”

“Don’t good morning, mom, me. I’m not dumb. I know when my daughter comes home wasted. Your dad and I don’t approve, but we’re not naive either. Just tell me who drove you.”

“Dom and Travis,” I say because at the moment I can’t remember who brought me home. Then I hear Alex say something. “Dominic,” I correct myself.

“Did he drink too?”

“No, he and Travis didn’t have a sip.”

“Good.” Her lips are pursed, but she doesn’t seem angry. “I left a glass of water and two ibuprofens on your desk. Take them. And tell Alex I said hello.” She closes the door and I finally exhale.

“See,” he says. “Told you they wouldn’t kill you.”

 

 

Chapter 12

 

 

 

Brody and I are talking about the highlights from homecoming on the way into physics when someone pushes past me with a shove of my shoulder causing my books to fall.

“Ow!” What the hell? I whip my head around to see that it’s Amy. “Are you kidding me?”

She turns back around and hesitates. But then she takes a few steps toward me until she’s right in front of my face. “You. Are. Such. A. Bitch.”

I’m stunned. Really. I am. I’m a bitch. Why? What did I do now?

Before I can react, Mr. Dunhill is standing over us. “That’s it, you two. I’m calling security to escort you to Mrs. Flores.”

Omigod. “That’s not necessary. We can walk over on our own,” I tell him.

He’s already at his desk speaking to someone on the phone. This is ridiculous. I’m not some hoodlum who needs to be hauled off by a rent-a-cop. I hope no one sees me. People will think I’m a drug dealer or something.

Brody and I sit down while we wait.

“What did you do?” he asks.

“Me? I don’t know what her problem is. I didn’t do anything,” I snap at him.

“Well, she’s pissed. Look at her.”

She’s standing near the door, arms crossed over her chest, and glaring at me with her nostrils flared.

I shake my head slowly. “I don’t know what it is this time.”

“Whatever it is, I can’t wait to find out. It’s gonna be a good one,” he says, rubbing his hands together.

A security guard dressed in all black clothing and combat boots enters the room with beady eyes and a walkie-talkie in his hands. Mr. Dunhill nods his head at me. Amy is already outside when I stand to take my walk of shame.

“Here, take this,” Brody says shoving a KitKat in my hand. “It’ll make you feel better.”

I love this guy. “Thanks, Brod,” I say, rumpling his hair before I leave.

 

“Hey, ladies,” Mrs. Flores waves us in and we sit. “It’s great to see you. Although, I wish it were under better circumstances.”

Me too. Who wants to see the school shrink? Actually, I really like her and have been known to visit her just to say hi, but I don’t like being sent here. This is the third time for Amy and me. Once, our sophomore year, I went off on our asshole math teacher who was trying to force us to work together. Then, last year, we kinda got into a fight at a party, blows and all, and Mrs. Flores found out about it.

But this time, when she asks what the problem is I say I have no idea.

“You wouldn’t. All you care about is yourself,” Amy mumbles under her breath. But loud enough that I hear her.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Mrs. Flores walks around her desk to close the door to her office. “Yes, Amy. What does that mean? Why do you feel that way?”

“She walks around this damn school without a care in the world,” she says, talking to Mrs. Flores but jutting a finger in my direction. “She has her tight-knit clique of friends. They have non-stop fun eating lunch together, going to parties and on trips together. And what do I have? Nothing. Oh wait, I’m on the fucking cheerleading squad. But we have to like each other. It’s not the same as my old friends. The ones who won’t talk to me because of Meg. Oh, and I killed my baby. Let’s not forget about that. The hardest decision Meg has ever had to make is which one of the million boys who fall all over her to go out with.”

By the time she’s finished talking shit, I don’t know whether to be pissed or feel sorry for her. I’ll settle for pissed. “Oh, gag me with the bullshit. You brought all this on yourself. You’re not friends with us because of what you did. Not because of me. You had to make a tough decision last year because of what you did. Sounds to me like you should keep your legs shut and stop sleeping around and you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Fuck you, Megan. I’ve never slept around. I’ve only had sex with one guy. Ever.”

There’s absolute silence as I wrap my head around what she just said. My heart is beating out of my chest when I completely understand. “The baby was Eric’s?”

Tears stream down her face. She nods.

“Does he know?”

She nods.

“What did he say?” What I really want to know is why didn’t he go with her? Why was
I
the one sitting outside in that waiting room while she aborted
their
baby?

“He said it wasn’t his.”

There’s the answer, but not one I wanted to hear. “Amy, promise me you’re telling me the truth.”

“I may have done some stupid shit in the past, but I would never lie about something like this.”

“What about all the rumors?”

“After what happened freshman year, I couldn’t even talk to a guy without everyone thinking I was having sex with him. People just believed what they wanted to.”

And I’m one of them. I never bothered to check my facts. I was so pissed at her it didn’t matter at the time. “Why are you telling me now?”

She bites the nail on her thumb for a few seconds before she speaks again. “I’m just so angry that you can all be friends with him, let
him
back into your group but you guys hate me. Then you went and slept with him. I still can’t believe you did it.”

“Me? I didn’t sleep with Eric. Who said that?”

“He did. He said you slept with him at Josh’s party. And on the freaking pool table? C’mon, Meg.”

“Oh, that dick. I didn’t sleep with him. Well, technically I did. I passed out on the pool table with Josh and Eric but nothing happened. The three of us just crashed there along with half the senior class.” I’m going to kill that jackass when I see him.

“Oh.” She seems to be thinking. “But you still went to homecoming with him. It’s bad enough he breaks my heart every time I look at him, but then you did too.”

Tears continue to trickle down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Amy. He won’t be our friend for much longer. Not after hearing this.”

“Thank you,” she whimpers.

“You said he broke your heart. So you had real feelings for him?”

She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “We were together this whole time. Since Alex and I broke up at prom freshman year until the baby. That’s when I finally had enough. I couldn’t do it anymore.”

I think back to all that time. How did we not know they were together? “Amy, he was with other girls. A lot of girls.”

“I know,” she says, hanging her head low. “But he’d say he was sorry. And I loved him. I thought he loved me. But I was just a stupid girl.”

“Why didn’t we know about you two?”

“He didn’t want you guys to know. It was important for him to hang out with you guys and if you knew, that wouldn’t happen. I didn’t care. As long as he loved me.”

This is crazy. Pure crazy. I don’t even know what to say. I sit back in my chair trying to calm the swirling of emotions going through my mind. I feel like I’m overflowing with information and can’t quite process it all.

Amy turns her chair to face me. I straighten up and look at her. “Look, I’m sorry I shoved you earlier. I didn’t mean to, but then you reacted and I thought it’d be a perfect excuse for Mr. Dunhill to send us here. I’ve been wanting to talk to you but just didn’t know how or where to start. I want things to be okay between us. I know we won’t ever hang out and be friends again, but it would be nice to just be in the same room with you without all the stupid comments and shit talking.”

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