None of the Regular Rules (19 page)

“And I
am
going to finally tell Peter how I feel,” Ella squeaked. “I think.”

“And
we
are going to pick up the reins where Johnny left off, and throw a kick-ass party that will rival every party Johnny Rush ever threw on his beach.”

“N
ice,” Ella said. “I like that. So w
hat else is left on the original list?” Ella asked.

I pulled the paper out from under my bed. “Jump off Hanging Rock.” We all looked at each other. “That one will happen, eventually. When it’s warm,” I promised. “Get a tattoo or a nose ring.” I glanced up and caught Grace nodding. “Confess a crush and kiss X.” Ella whooped. “Throw a party. If we do that, it will also let us knock off the weird one—make them envy me, for once. Right? Who doesn’t envy a party-thrower with fabulous best friends?”

My friends nodded.

I swallowed before I read the last one. I still didn’t know how, even with support from my friends, I could finish this one. “Eat dessert on top of the water tower.”

“Let’s start with the party and see how many we can knock off in one night,” Ella said certainly, glossing over the water
-
tower conversation. “Really, this year started with one of Johnny’s parties, so it seems like a party of our own is the best way to end this thing.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO

Trever German got us a keg. Grace was in charge of making sure people knew about the party. Ella found us the ugliest, most garish fake tattoos imaginable. And I suggested my parents plan a trip to visit my brother, which I knew he would very much appreciate. It was perfect payback for my Christmas alone with
M
om and
D
ad and
M
om’s rambling and obsessive comments about the fatty ham.

The day of the party was warm and perfect. It wasn’t yet full spring, but tiny buds had begun to creep back to their places on the trees
,
so the promise of summer was everywhere. In fact, we’d had enough rain and sunshine that lawn-obsessed people had already been out with mowers already…which gave me an idea.

Around seven, when Trever pulled into my circular driveway in his beat-up old Bronco with the keg, I
sneaked
over to Johnny’s detached garage. If we were going to do this right, we had to have the drunk-girl limo. A lawn
-
mower kegger really wasn’t the same without a lawn mower. I dug around under the fake rock for a spare key that I’d seen Johnny use the night of the planetarium break-in. Once I figured out how to turn the mower on, I pressed the button to open the big door so I could drive out onto the grass. I started the mower, hoping his dad’s hearing aid was off, then prepared to rev forward—but stopped short when I realized someone was standing in front of the open garage door.

“Thief.” Johnny
Rush
stood in front of me with his hands on his
perfect
hips, his lips curled into a flirty smile. “You are really, truly bad at this rebel business. But I respect the effort—no judging.” He held his hands up in surrender.

I stared at him, wondering for a moment if I was just imagining him standing there, teasing me as if no time had passed since he’d left. He slipped his hands into his back pockets and his body was slouched in that impossibly sexy, lazy way that he must have practiced so it could be a permanent part of his image.

“You’re back,” I said plainly. “And I’m busted.” I shrugged. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to need to commandeer this lawn mower.” I patted the lawn mower fondly, as though it was a pet.

Johnny stepped to the side and gestured for me to drive it past him, out onto the lawn. “It’s all yours. Want some help tying up the wagon?”

“Sure,” I said. As we worked to tie the Radio Flyer on with twine, I could feel Johnny watching me. “So you’re back.”

“I’m back,” Johnny said. “I see you missed me so much you decided to host one of my parties.”

“I’m afraid you lost your title as lawn
-
mower kegger captain. This one is all mine,” I said. Then I looked at the lawn mower and added, “Except the lawn mower. That’s still yours. I’m just borrowing the concept.”

“It’s a nice touch, isn’t it?” Johnny tied one last knot in the twine and patted the seat of the mower. “So, are you going to invite me to this soiree, or is it a private affair?”

“You’re welcome to join.”

“I’m welcome?” Johnny asked. “Or I’m wanted?” When he looked at me, I realized I’d forgotten just how arresting his eyes were. They stopped me from saying anything, but they also kept me from driving away.

Finally, I said, “Why did you come back, Johnny?” I’m not sure what I wanted him to say, and I knew I was probably going to be disappointed with whatever he would say.

He shrugged and looked away. “Ski season was over. There was no reason to stay.”

I felt the rejection deep in my belly, a kick to the gut. It was obvious now that what I’d suspected all along had been true: I’d been mistaken. There was no connection for him. Nothing special between us. I was just another person to flirt with, someone to fill his time when he was bored, someone to play with and tease and tempt…and that was it. “So that’s it, huh?”

“That’s why I left Michigan, anyway.” He met my gaze, and there it was again:
t
hat
something
that made me feel at home, and at peace, and totally comfortable in my own skin when he was with me. I’d missed him so much it hurt, and seeing him here again, in the space between our backyards, was torture.

As we stared at each other, neither of us saying anything, I still felt a little bubble of something deep inside that made me wonder if maybe I had been right. I wondered just enough that maybe I could risk everything, could put it out there and risk rejection and failure and whatever I might have with this guy. I was going to confess my crush, damn it, and I was going to kiss him. Screw convention. The regular rules didn’t apply to us, Johnny had said that himself.

“I liked you,” I said plainly. “A lot—and you just left.”

He looked at me, saying nothing. It nearly killed me, waiting for him to respond. “You wanted me to uncomplicate,” he said finally.

“So?” I said. “Did you?”

He smiled. “The snow isn’t the only thing that drove me back here. I came back because of you. I left for me, Sophie, but I came back for you.” I felt his fingers slip into mine. He was close enough that I could smell him.
One of his hands slipped out of mine, and he reached up to press his thumb against my lower lip.
My eyes fluttered closed and I sucked in my breath.
I wanted to taste him and wrap up inside his arms. But he still hadn’t exactly answered my question.

“Sophie!” Grace called to me from somewhere. “Trever forgot the tap. He has to drop the keg in the wagon and go back to the liquor store.” She poked her head around the edge of the garage and gasped. “Oops. Sorry.”

Johnny and I pulled apart. “Well,” I said, my heart hammering in my chest with the promise that maybe, probably, I’d been right. And comforted with the knowledge that Johnny was back and we would have time, later, to continue this. “I’m glad you’re back. And just so you know, you are wanted at the party. Expected, really.” I smiled seductively,
still dizzy from his touch,
then revved the engine on the mower and zoomed off to pick up my keg.

***

The party was in full swing when Ian showed up. I might not have seen him, standing at the top of the craggy hill above the beach, if Ella hadn’t grabbed my arm and swung me around to stare.

Ella and I watched as Grace pulled herself away from the crowd surrounding her and drifted toward him, in a kind of trance. It was like an out-of-body experience, watching my best friend float through time and space and into the arms of the guy who had made her so miserable. The guy who was controlling her past, present, and future. The guy who’d made her feel like less of a person and who—I recognized it now—had made her doubt and hate herself.

We watched, without moving, as Grace climbed up the hill. Ella muttered “no” as Ian wrapped his scrawny, horrible fingers around Grace’s arm and pulled her away from the party. They slipped away from the beach, and out of our view.

The lake was loud, the waves wild and frothy. The crowd was huge, and people were having a great time—a noisy time. So if we hadn’t been watching, waiting, we might not have heard her scream. But as it was, we did. And that’s when we flew.

Within moments we were up the hill. Grace and Ian were already most of the way across my wide lawn. He was pulling her along and she was stumbling behind him like a rag doll. I could hear her apologizing, but Ian didn’t stop to hold her in his arms and tell her it was okay or that he loved her or explain why he was acting like a possessive psychopath. Because he was obviously consumed with powerful jealousy, and he’d lost the ability to care about Grace in a normal way.

“Stop,” I cried, but the wind whipped my voice over the hill and into the lake. “Ella
,
” I cried, gesturing wildly toward the lawn mower. “Get on!” We both piled onto the riding mower, which I’d parked at the edge of the lawn earlier that night. The mower puttered and sputtered and zipped across the lawn. We were gaining on Ian and Grace with our funny little rescue vehicle, but I didn’t know if we’d get to her before it was too late.

They were almost at his car when Grace finally dug her heels into the grass and fought back. “Stop, Ian! Let me go!”

Ian paused, then turned and looked over his shoulder. His eyebrows shot up when he saw us chasing after them on our noble steed, and his shoulders s
a
nk in defeat.

“We’re done, Ian,” Grace said, panting. “Completely over. You need to let me go.”

Ian smiled cruelly. “I don’t think you want to do this, Grace. We can go away this weekend. Take some time, just the two of us. I know you need that, as much as I do.”

“I don’t need any more time with you, Ian,” Grace said, not unkindly. “I already told you, I need some time with me. I’ve been trying to tell you that for weeks, but you refuse to get it.”

“Grace,” Ian warned, trying a different approach. “You know you’d be kicked off track if you were caught at a party with alcohol. You’re not making smart choices.”

“I quit track, so that’s not much of a threat.” Ella and I watched as Grace fought back with the confidence she’d always had in arguments with Ella. “Anyway, the quality of my choices isn’t your business anymore, Ian.”

“I think it is,” he corrected. “Is this about that list?” He scoffed. “Is breaking up with a perfect boyfriend one of the dares, or something?”

I laughed, but covered my mouth when I saw Ian steaming. “This has nothing to do with the list you’re thinking of,” Grace said with a smile. “It has everything to do with me finding my happiness, and living for me.” She finally sounded just like a guidance
-
office poster again, and that’s when I knew—without a doubt—that we had our real Grace back.

Ian walked around to stand in front of the driver’s side door of his car. “If I leave here without you, I’m calling the cops.”

Grace shrugged. “If that’s going to make you happy, then do that. But it’s not going to change things between us.”

Ian looked from me to Ella to Grace. “So you’re picking them over me?”

“I’m picking me over you,” Grace said. “And my friends are a part of who I am. I hope someday you’ll find that, too.” She walked toward us and climbed into the wagon. “Giddyup!” She squealed as I revved the engine, then we all dissolved into a fit of giggles.

***

As soon as we got back to the beach, we decided it was probably a good idea to move the party elsewhere, just in case Ian carried out his threat to call the cops. We put Trever German—who was, surprisingly, sober—in charge of rallying the troops and carting people a few miles down the road to the public beach. Some people were going to walk, others had a sober
cab, and many more were excited to ride in the open bed of Trever’s truck. I didn’t offer up the lawn mower.

Before they left, Trever and a few of his friends hid the keg in the raspberry bushes, promising to pick it up in the morning. Grace piled into a car with Taryn and the other intellectual cheerleaders while Ella stayed behind to help me usher everyone off my lawn.

Just as the last people headed toward their cars, Andy Eisenberg and some of the theater crew showed up. Ella had spent the whole night mustering up her courage to finally say something to Peter about her years-long crush—but when Andy turned up, I saw her resolve falter.

“Hey, Ella,” Andy said. He bowed to me. “Hello, Sophie.”

“Ambrose!” Peter called to Ella drunkenly from the backseat of one of his hockey
buddies’
cars. “Want to ride with us? We can swap shirts—tonight I’ll be the hipp
ie
chick! Where’s my camera?” He cracked himself up. Giggling, he closed the door before Ella had a chance to get in.

Andy lifted his eyebrows. “Party’s over?” he asked.

“Change in location,” I explained. “Everyone’s moving to Hidden Beach, minus the beer.”

“Fine by me,” Andy said. “We’ll meet you there?” He looked at Ella hopefully.

Ella looked at Andy, then back at Peter—who had rolled down the window in the backseat to yell, “Let’s move, Ambrose!”

Andy cringed. “Or maybe not.” He nodded toward the car full of drunk jocks. “Not exactly my scene.” I
shrugged
. Andy and the others began to walk back toward his car.

Ella turned to me desperately, as soon as Andy was out of earshot. “Sophie, I don’t think I want to kiss Peter anymore.”

I grinned. “Really?” I asked sarcastically. “Who
do
you want to kiss?”

“I think I’d rather kiss Andy.” She shrugged. “Will you hate me if I don’t confess my crush and kiss Peter?”

“Not at all.” I shrugged. “I already knocked that one off the list anyway.”

“Confess a crush and kiss X?” Ella asked, her eyes wide. “Johnny?”

“I haven’t gotten to the kiss part yet, but I will. You’re off the hook. Number
n
ine is all mine now, babe.”