Just You (5 page)

I wondered if one could actually die from
humiliation. The guy smiled at me, feeling my pain. My forehead
felt damp with sweat and I knew my eyeliner had probably
smeared.

“Taylor,” Robin went on, “this is Michael
Hurst. He’s single too.”

I found that hard to believe. His type
usually had at least three girlfriends and a few others on a
string, hoping.

“I thought you guys should meet,” Robin
finished, and then leaned over to whisper in my ear, “He’s perfect
for you. Trust me.”

I found that even harder to believe. His
type was better suited to beautiful girls…girls like Robin. Not
short girls with untamable hair who couldn’t go two hours without
needing to pee.

“Hi,” he—Michael—said to me.

“Hi.” I disentangled myself from Robin’s
clammy arm. “Hey, thanks for before.”

Robin had been preparing to mix a drink at
the bar but looked up when I said that. “Huh? You guys met already?
See? I knew it.” She pointed the vodka bottle at us. “Destiny.”

I felt like kicking her. Instead I shot her
a dirty look, which she ignored. She went back to her drink,
turning away to presumably give me a chance to talk to Michael.
However, if talking was what she’d intended for us to do, then this
was certainly the wrong place for it. The music and noise would
make it impossible for either of us to use a tone below screaming.
But Michael was looking at me, expectant. My heart thumped in my
chest, and all of a sudden I felt like I was in an elevator that
was stuck between two floors.

“I think I need some air,” I said. The heat,
the noise, the vodka…it was all too much. Michael didn’t catch my
words so he leaned in close to hear me better. When he did I could
smell shampoo and shaving cream and the intoxicating scent of boy
and felt like I was about to faint dead away. “Air,” I
squeaked.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his brow creasing
in concern. When I didn’t answer, he put down his beer and led me
over to the basement door and the wonderful, blessed fresh air. We
walked past all the smokers and down the driveway toward the road.
I closed my eyes and breathed, in and out, in and out, until my
head began to clear.

“Thanks,” I said. “Again.”

He leaned against a black Jeep.
“Better?”

“Much.” This was
far
more
embarrassing than my father overhearing me talking about my
breasts.

The breeze had turned chilly, so I pulled my
sweatshirt on. I planned to wait out here for Lynn, who was due to
pick Robin and me up in about forty-five minutes. Michael didn’t
have to babysit me anymore—surely he had better things to do. But
he didn’t move from his spot against the Jeep.

“You can go back inside, if you want” I
said, fiddling with my sweatshirt zipper. “I’m not going to pass
out or anything.”

He still didn’t budge. “Maybe I should stay
out here and keep an eye on you,” he said. “Just in case.”

I glanced up at him and he smiled at me, but
in a sweet, shy way, not in a smarmy way like Buzz Cut Boy. For
some reason this made me more comfortable, and I let myself
relax.

“So,” he said, shoving his hands into his
pockets. “Do you go to RHH?”

I knew RHH meant Redwood Hills High, one of
the fanciest and most well-equipped public schools in the area. “I
live in Oakfield. My dad lives here. I mean, in downtown Weldon.
Near Crawford Park. I stay with him most weekends and half of the
summer.”

I heard myself babbling, but Michael nodded
like what I’d said was interesting. “And you’re Robin’s
friend.”

“She lives on the same street as my dad. How
long have you known her?”

“A few months, I guess.”

I couldn’t believe she had never mentioned
him to me before. Or maybe she had. Robin often bragged about all
the hot guys she met at parties, but I could never keep them
straight. “This isn’t your house, is it?”

He shook his head. “It’s my friend R.J.’s.
His parents are in Maine for two weeks.”

I nodded. That explained the open liquor
cabinet rummage.

“I live about three blocks from here, on
Riverview.”

Of course. He was a Hills kid. He probably
had his own car and a big fat college fund.

“And I’d never get away with having a party
like this,” he added.

I smiled. “Me either.”

When he smiled back at me, I tried to
determine exactly what it was that made him so appealing, besides
his looks. He should have been arrogant, yet he had this quiet,
reserved confidence that—against my better judgment—drew me right
in. Hey, just because I’d given up boys didn’t mean I couldn’t
still appreciate nice, good-looking ones. Even though I wasn’t in
the market for a boyfriend, especially one who undoubtedly had so
many girls lusting after him that he couldn’t be bothered to settle
with just one, I almost envied his next girlfriend.

“My stepmother will be here soon,” I said,
uncomfortable again. “I should go get Robin.”

Michael pushed himself off the Jeep and
walked with me back into the house. The party had grown even
crazier in our absence. Some people in the bathroom lineup looked
positively green. Three girls stood on the sofa, dancing to the
pounding music. At least a dozen people lined up near the unmanned
bar, waiting for their turn to make drinks. And Robin, Miss Life of
the Party herself, was now shooting pool with Devon and a few other
kids, a glass affixed to her hand.

“Thanks again,” I told Michael before
leaving his side. “For everything.” He had saved me twice tonight,
once from wetting myself and once from passing out. At this rate, I
was sure he wished he’d never met me.

“No problem.” He gave me another nice smile
and then walked away.
Damn
, I thought, watching him go. Then
I shook my head free of any indecent thoughts and went to find
Robin. I sidled up to her while she waited to make a shot.

“Lynn will be here to pick us up any
second,” I said.

“Tay!” She hugged me, almost impaling me
with her pool cue. “Where have you
been
?”

“Outside,” I said, and then added as if in
afterthought, “talking to Michael.”

She smiled and slapped her hands to her
shiny cheeks, dropping the stick in the process. “I knew you guys
would get along. I knew from the minute I met him that he was the
perfect guy for you. Isn’t he sweet?”

“Yes, but I don’t—“

She squeezed my arms so tightly that I
winced. “You two have so much in common. He’s like…he’s…the male
you
.”

I had no idea what she was talking about.
“We have to go.”

“Oh, you go. I’ll get another ride. We’re
just getting started here.”

“Are you sure?” I worried that she’d pass
out outside on the massive lawn and be accidentally plowed over by
a lawn mower in the morning, or worse.

“I’m sure.” She hugged me again. “I’m so
happy for you. You’re my best friend and I love you.”

“Um, thanks,” I said, patting her back. This
gushy drunk-talk was embarrassing.

“Michael’s a nice guy, he really is. He’ll
make you happy.”

“Okay.”

I’d agreed only to make
her
happy,
not because I believed it would ever happen.

Chapter 5

Jamie sprinted toward me as I crouched over
the dining room rug, scrubbing at a fruit punch stain. “Taylor, can
you get this untied?”

I looked up, tossing the hair out of my
eyes. He held up the remote controlled helicopter that he’d gotten
for his birthday. Twisted around its propellers was one of those
little figurines with the plastic parachute attached. I gave up on
the stain and stood up, taking the helicopter from him. “Man,
Jamie,” I said, examining the knot. “I think I’m gonna have to cut
this.”

“It was Brandon,” he said quickly. “He
wanted to see if he could launch the parachute and then slam it
with the helicopter.”

Ten-year-old boys gave me migraines.
Especially ones who were hopped up on birthday cake, caffeine, and
video game violence. So far I’d broken up four fights, rescued Leo
from being the stand-in pony for “rides” around the living room,
and pulled chewed licorice out of some poor girl’s hair. Not to
mention the punch explosion on the rug. The party was almost over,
and just in time. I was about five minutes away from curling up
into a fetal position and rocking back and forth in a corner. These
kids were animals.

As I stood in the empty kitchen, rummaging
through the disorganized junk drawer for a pair of scissors, I was
startled by a loud knocking. I looked over at the sliding glass
doors to see Robin standing on the other side, waving and grinning
hugely. My hand on my chest, I went over to turn the lock and let
her in.

“You scared the hell out of me,” I said.

She laughed and rubbed her hands over her
goosebumpy arms. The temperature outside had plummeted that
morning, but she wore yoga pants, a tank top, and flip-flops. Her
long auburn hair was smoothed back into a ponytail. Even
makeup-free, she looked beautiful.

“What is going on in here?” she asked as a
thunderous crashing sound filtered into the kitchen. It sounded
like the DVD rack falling over. “And what are you
doing
?”

I’d found the scissors and was attempting to
free the parachute guy. “It’s Jamie’s birthday, and I’m going
insane.”

Lynn bustled into the kitchen then, followed
by half a dozen party-goers in need of thirst-quenching. While my
stepmother filled plastic cups with water, the group of kids—four
boys and two girls, one of them Emma—all stared at Robin. One of
the little boys’ faces turned tomato red.

“Are you a model?” asked the girl who’d had
the chewed licorice in her hair.

Robin smiled and struck a pose—hand behind
her head, one hip jutting out. “Yeah, I model swimsuits for
Eskimos.”

The tomato-faced boy gaped, his mouth
hanging open. You could almost hear puberty setting in.

“It’s just Robin,” Emma said as she handed
out the cups of water. “Come on, let’s go.”

They drank quickly and took off out of the
room. Lynn rubbed her temples as she trailed after them.

“
Just
Robin,” Robin said, shaking her
head.

I worked the scissor blade under the string.
“The little blond boy seemed taken with you.”

“Tell him to look me up in about ten years.
Here, give me that before you sever your finger.” She took the
helicopter and scissors from me, and in no time at all the little
man was untangled, landing with a thud on the ceramic tile. Robin
unwound the parachute from the propellers and handed it to me.

“Impressive,” I said.

“Everyone is talented at something.”

The doorbell started ringing then; parents
arriving to collect their heathens. When they were all gone, save
for my sister and stepbrother, the house felt eerily still.

“Thank you,” Lynn said, hugging me tight.
She looked wrung-out. “Taylor, you’re off duty now. Your dad
promised he’d clean up the mess when he gets home from his
meeting.”

I wasn’t about to argue with that. Robin and
I escaped to my room.

“So,” she said, flopping on my bed and
picking up my stuffed swan. For some strange reason, I’d packed it
into my overnight bag and brought it to Dad’s with me. I couldn’t
bear to throw it away. Despite what had gone down with Brian, I
still loved swans. “I came over because I have something to tell
you.”

I dropped down next to her. “Yeah?”

She gripped the swan’s long neck in her fist
and jiggled its head back and forth. “Where did you get this
thing?”

“Brian,” I said, and she flung it to the
floor. I reached over the edge of the bed, my fingers groping
around until they made contact with fuzzy fur. I snatched up my
swan and stuffed it under my chin. “What did you want to tell
me?”

She rolled over on her side, facing me.
“Last night? After you left?”

“Uh huh,” I said slowly. I didn’t like the
way her eyes were twinkling. It made me leery.

“Michael comes up to me and he goes, ‘So
what’s the story with your friend?’”

I stared at her, momentarily speechless. She
stared right back to me with this small, satisfied grin on her
lips. “He did not,” I said.

“He did too.”

“Michael…the guy you introduced me to last
night.”

“The very same.”

A rush of heat hit my face and I knew I
must’ve been as red as that little blond boy. “Liar.”

“It’s true,” she said. Then, in an annoying
sing-song voice: “He likes you.”

“Robin. He doesn’t even know me.”

“You’re blushing,” she sang. “Don’t you want
to know what I told him?”

I bit my lip. “No.”

“I told him,” she said, yanking the swan
from my hands and tossing it clear across the room, “that you just
got out of a relationship with some douchebag who didn’t appreciate
you, and that you liked meeting him and wouldn’t mind hanging out
with him again sometime.”

Now my cheeks were burning for a different
reason. Now I was
mad
. “Robin, I swear to God, if you really
said that to him I am going to smother you with this pillow.”

“I didn’t tell him anything that wasn’t
true. You should have seen your face last night, Taylor. You were
practically drooling.”

I smacked her with the pillow. “How would
you know? You were plastered.”

“Not at that point. You could
feel
the electricity between you guys when you met. You’re perfect
together. He just got out of a bad relationship too, by the
way.”

I sighed. She was such a romantic. “Robin,
I’m not interested in going out with anyone right now. Even if he
did ask me out—which I doubt would ever happen in this lifetime—I
would say no. I’m done with boys. Period.”

She looked at me like I’d just told her I
was giving up breathing. “Forever?”