Torch Red: Color Me Torn with Bonus Content (9 page)

BOOK: Torch Red: Color Me Torn with Bonus Content
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“So what are you and Justin up to tonight?” she asked when I came downstairs just a few minutes before he got there.

“We’re going to a party,” I tell her in an innocent-sounding voice. Okay, that wasn’t a lie, but the next part was. “It’s a surprise birthday party for this really good friend of his.” I think I sounded fairly convincing. “I haven’t met the guy yet, but I guess he and Justin have been friends since they were little kids.”

“Oh, that sounds nice.” But then my mom looked concerned. “Shouldn’t you take him something? I have some nice cards in my desk if you want to—”

“That’s okay, Mom,” I said quickly. “Justin got something for him that’s supposed to be from both of us.”

“Oh, good for him. That Justin seems like such a nice boy. So thoughtful.”

But he seems unusually “thoughtful” as he silently drives across town. Suddenly I’m concerned that something might be wrong between the two of us. “Everything okay?” I finally ask in a tentative voice.

“Huh?” He turns to look at me, almost as if he’s forgotten that I’m even here.

“You’re being so quiet,” I tell him. “I just wondered if everything was all right.”

“Sorry. I guess I was just thinking.”

“Are you worried about something?”

“Well, I suppose I’m a little worried about the SAT test next week, and whether or not I’ll be accepted into the college that my dad seems determined I need to attend. Just stupid stuff like that.”

“That’s not stupid, Justin.” I sigh as the reality hits me. “I guess I kind of forget that you’re a senior sometimes. I suppose you have a lot to think about.”

“Yeah.” Then he seems to relax a little. “But I guess I don’t have to think about
everything
right now.”

“That’s right.” Then I reach over and gently massage the back of his neck. “Relax,” I tell him. “Just give yourself a little break tonight.”

“Sounds good to me.”

The party’s in an older, slightly run-down subdivision, and from the number of cars filling the driveway, as well as lining both sides of the street, I’m guessing there must be a lot of kids here. But as soon as we go inside and push our way through a hot and crowded front room where the music is blaring loudly, I begin to realize that I don’t really recognize anyone.

Not only that, but I don’t think this is just a “high school” party since, judging by conversations, a lot of the people here are in their twenties and older. But even more disturbing is the fact that not only is there alcohol being served (which I expected), but I can also smell marijuana smoke, and my guess is that there may be other things going on here too.

Now I don’t like to come across as this uptight chick who can’t cut loose occasionally, but I’m thinking this just isn’t the kind of party that strikes me as fun. And I wonder what made Justin think it was a good
idea to bring me here. Or what made him want to be here himself.

But he is already mixing a couple of drinks from the open bar and he turns around and hands one to me. “Bottoms up,” he says with a grin.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Just a Brown Cow,” he tells me as if I should know what that means.

“What’s that?” I ask, feeling slightly stupid, but not really caring either.

“Rum and Coke.” He holds up his glass. “Cheers!”

Well, I suppose one drink can’t hurt me, and maybe if I bide my time for, say, fifteen or twenty minutes, I might be able to talk him into going someplace else. And so I do my best to drink what actually tastes like nail polish remover (or how I imagine it might taste) but, for his sake, I do pretend to like it. And, of course, this results in him mixing me another one. I’m about to refuse it when he’s greeted by the guy who must be hosting this moronic party.

“Hey, Justin,” this guy says as he slaps him on the back. “I’m glad you came. Whazzup, man?”

Then Justin introduces me to “Nick” and the two of them start talking like they really are the old buddies I’d described to my mom earlier. And then, just when I’m not paying attention, they both disappear. Like
poof!
they’re gone.

Well, I walk around the crowded and sweltering house and discover that it’s a lot larger than it looked from the outside. But I don’t see Justin anywhere. And naturally, since I don’t really know this Nick guy, I don’t feel comfortable walking into rooms where the doors are closed. I mean who knows what I might discover?

I finally decide to give up when I notice a vacant easy chair in a somewhat quiet corner of the living room. So I sit down, cross my legs, fold my arms, and simply do some people watching. And let me tell you, there’s some strange stuff going on here, and in a weird way
it’s kind of interesting. But I do begin to notice a pattern. It’s like guys and girls don’t really know each other, but they visit a little, pair off and dance for a bit, and then they just sort of split. I’m not sure if they’re sick of the party and going somewhere else or what. I’m not even sure that I care. I just want to get out of this place myself.

And I’m pretty curious as to where Justin and Nick have disappeared to and when Justin plans to return. If my parents hadn’t been planning on going to a movie tonight (and
if
it wasn’t such a sleazy party), I would call my dad and beg him to pick me up. But I realize that’s pretty childish.

So here I sit, just watching everyone. I figure there’s not much else I can do. I sit here for about half an hour or more, I’m guessing, but I’m getting more and more irritated with Justin for abandoning me like this. And then this guy, who looks as if he could be like thirty-something, decides to perch on the arm of my chair like he has a right to. I mean what is wrong with people?

“How’s it going?” As if it’s any of his business.

I kind of shrug in hopes of appearing unfriendly then say, “Okay, I guess.”

“Okay, you guess?”
he echoes in a sympathetic tone. “That doesn’t sound very good to me. What could possibly be troubling a pretty girl like you?”

I glance nervously over my shoulder, really wishing that Justin would reappear and get me out of this place. “I seem to have lost my boyfriend somewhere in here.” I think this sounds like a fairly obvious hint, as in,
I have a boyfriend, so bug off.

But he just laughs. “Well, maybe that’s not such a problem.” Then he holds out his hand. “I’m Mike, I happen to live here. Now what’s your name?”

I’m at a total loss now, and so I simply tell him my name and hope
that he’ll decide I’m pretty boring and just blow. But this guy is stubborn.

“Can I refresh your drink?” he offers.

I notice that I have actually finished off my drink and I don’t know whether to be concerned or proud. But thinking I might be able to lose this loser, I say, “Sure, but I’d really like just a plain Coke this time.”

“No problem.”

And for a few moments I am left in peace again. Well, in as much peace as this place can offer. I consider abandoning my spot before Mike returns, but it has a good vantage point for when Justin decides to make an appearance. I watch as couples go up and down the steps. And I begin to notice something else that seems kind of weird. It’s like a lot of the girls are wearing these really odd colors of lip gloss. I mean seriously, in the past five minutes I’ve seen purple, blue, orange, yellow, even green. Like what’s up with that?

Then Mike returns with my drink in hand. But now I’m slightly suspicious. “Is this
just
a Coke?” I ask.

He nods. “Just like the lady ordered.”

Even so, I take a cautious sip. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had spiked it with something stronger. But it actually tastes okay and it’s cold and icy. But as I drink it, Mike remains perched on the arm of my chair like he owns the joint, which I suppose he does. But he’s making small talk about the CD that’s playing right now and how he saw this group in concert like ten years ago (I mean I would’ve been like seven back then!). I try not to encourage him with too many responses, although I do seem to be loosening up a bit. Maybe the alcohol has taken effect. And finally I can’t help but mention the weird fashion statement that seems to be going on in this place.

“What’s up with all the lip gloss?” I ask him. “I’ve never seen so many strange colors.”

He laughs now. “Oh, that’s for the rainbow room.”

“The rainbow room?”

“Yeah,” he tells me as he stands up and takes my hand. “You want to see it?”

“Sure,” I tell him, but I notice that I’m feeling a little unsteady on my feet as I stand and I suddenly wonder if it’s possible to get drunk on just two Brown Cows. But it’s like the room is beginning to spin and I feel funny.

“Are you sure that was just a Coke?” I ask him as I hold up my empty glass. I seem to be working hard to form my words so they don’t sound slurred.

He nods, but instead of one head, I think I see two. Then he is leading me down the stairs. I don’t actually feel my feet on the steps, but I sense I am going down. Then he opens a door to another room where another sort of party seems to be going on. There are colored lights, but it’s very dim and the music isn’t quite as loud as upstairs. It looks like guys and girls are mingling around, dancing and drinking and making out. But it’s all kind of blurry and out of focus. I try to blink and adjust my vision, but it’s not helping.

“This is Zoë,” I hear Mike telling someone.

“Hey, Zoë,” says a blonde girl who seems to have two heads or maybe three. “Welcome to the rainbow room.”

“Huh?” I feel seriously nauseated now.

“Here,” she says, “let me help you.”

Now I’m somewhat relieved. Like maybe someone understands my dilemma. “Thanks,” I mutter. That’s when I realize she’s wiping something onto my mouth. I sputter and spit. “What’s that?” I demand, stepping back.

She laughs. “Just lip gloss. You get to be
magenta
tonight.”

“Huh?” I reach my hand to my mouth and touch the sticky substance she’s just smeared onto my lips. “I don’t
want
to be magenta,” I
mutter as I turn around and stagger to the door. “I
want
to go home.”

But Mike is still holding on to my hand, telling me to just take it easy and relax. But that’s when my stomach just totally flips over and the next thing I know I am violently barfing.

“Gross!” he yells as he shoves me away. I’m relieved to get away from him, but I still feel sick as I head for the door. I desperately want a bathroom. As I stagger down the hallway, hanging on to the wall for support, Justin grabs me by the arm. At least I think it’s him. I blink my eyes since my vision is pretty blurry.

“Zoë!” he exclaims and then I know it’s him. “Where have you been?”

“Where’ve I been?” I manage to echo in a slurred voice. “Whad’ya mean where’ve
I
been? Where’ve
you
been?”

Then he takes me by my shoulders and pulls me toward him so that he can see my face in the dimly lit hallway. “What on earth have you been doing?” he demands.

“Whad’ya think I’ve been—” Then I stop. “I need a bathroom, Justin, I’m going to barf again.”

“Again?”
But he doesn’t waste time and fortunately, we are right next to one and he opens the door and I run in and just barely make it to the toilet in time. Finally I am done, and feeling a little better, although my head is still throbbing, I go to the sink, but when I look into the mirror I see those awful smudges of magenta across my mouth. I get some tissues and manage to wipe off the nasty lip gloss before I wash my face with soap and cold water. All the while, Justin is just sitting on a bench by the door silently watching me. By the time I finish, my hands are shaking and I am so upset that I’m crying.

That’s when I turn and look at Justin. With tears streaming down my cheeks, I demand, “Why did you bring me here? And why did you leave me like that?”

“Nick was just showing me something.” His eyes seem to avoid mine and suddenly I wonder if this guy is really who I thought he was.

“What was he showing you?” I ask with my hands on my hips. I feel like I’m returning to my old self now.

“This new video game,” he says quickly. “I guess we just lost track of time.” Then he steps up and takes me in his arms. “I’m sorry, Zoë.”

Well, his sympathy is my complete undoing, and I totally break into sobs as he holds me. “It was awful,” I blubber. “I was feeling sick and I couldn’t find you. . . .” I continue to cry as I tell him about Mike and how he took me to the rainbow room.

“Mike took you to the rainbow room?”

I nod then wipe my running nose.

“Did, uh, well, did anything happen?”

I tell him about the lip gloss and how I threw up and then Justin pulls me toward him as he gently rubs my back. “I’m so sorry, Zoë,” he says in a gentle voice. “Are you okay now?”

I pull away to reach for a fresh tissue. “I guess so,” I tell him. “But I want to go home now.”

“But it’s not even ten.”

“I don’t care.”

When I get home, I am relieved to see that my parents aren’t back from their movie yet. As a result, I am able to slip up to my room without having to explain why I came home early.

But as I prepare for bed, I feel very disturbed. Not just by tonight, although that was certainly bad enough! But I’m also thinking about what I saw in the wardrobe room yesterday, and about all the stuff that girls like Thea and Kirsti like to talk about in the locker room, and I am seriously concerned about sex in general, like what is going on, and why people act like that. And furthermore—WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS FREAKING PLANET???

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