Winter of Grace (5 page)

Stella grabbed me. ‘You stay right there. Your mouth is fine, you look gorgeous.'

Which was kind, because next to Stella in her silver top, I was nothing.

We hadn't brought anything to drink. We couldn't have fooled Mish, even if we'd wanted to. But there was a big bowl of punch on the bench with bits of fruit floating in it, and Stella ladled us each a plastic cup. I took a big nervous swallow and nearly choked; it burned the back of my throat.

Tears sprang to Stella's eyes. ‘Vodka?' she coughed.

‘Just a dash,' I whispered hoarsely.

‘Are we going to get
drunk
tonight, Bridie Vandenberg?'

I shut my eyes, feeling as if that question had already been settled as far as I was concerned. The floor was tilting under my feet. I shook my head vigorously.

Stella took another gulp and eyed me sideways. ‘Then let's just get
tipsy
.'

‘Absolutely,' I said.

Stella refilled her cup, which she'd emptied with startling speed. ‘That's very funny. Absolutely. Absolut vodka, get it?'

‘Oh. Yeah.' I took a second cautious sip. It still burned.

Stella topped up her cup again, which didn't strike me as such a great idea, and we stepped out onto the deck.

After the steamy hubbub of the kitchen, the chill of the night air and the gassy heat that shimmered from the braziers made me giddy. I found myself next to a bowl of corn chips. As my eyes scanned the crowd, my hand went back and forth to my mouth and before I knew it the bowl was half-empty. Not a great look. But in retrospect I'm glad I had the chip bowl because all Stella had was the punch.

‘Hi,' said a shy voice behind us and we both spun round to see Jay grinning down at us. His eye was still bandaged, though less thickly than at the hospital.

‘Oh my God, your poor eye!' cried Stella.

Jay fidgeted uncomfortably. ‘It's okay. They're going to do some more tests. And I have to wear this for a while.' He touched the bandage sheepishly. ‘But, you know, I always wanted to be a pirate.'

‘How are you?' I said. ‘How are your ribs?'

‘Cracked, not broken. Hurts when I laugh. So don't be funny, okay?' He had a very sweet smile.

‘You look really
well
!' Stella gushed. ‘Considering you had the bejesus kicked out of you.'

Jay looked even more uncomfortable, and I wondered why. ‘It would have been worse if you guys hadn't come along,' he said.

Now it was our turn to fidget awkwardly.

‘Want a drink?' said Stella, slopping her punch.

Jay shook his head. ‘I don't— I can't—'

‘He's probably on fifty different kinds of medication,' I said.

‘Oh, yeah. Soft drink, then?'

‘Thanks,' said Jay, and Stella scooted off, stumbling against the snack table as she went.

That left me and Jay alone together.

‘It's good to see you,' he said shyly.

He meant both of us, no doubt. ‘It's good you could come,' I said, and then I got stuck.

‘I can't stay too long,' said Jay. ‘Elliot's picking me up.'

‘Yeah, Stella said.' My hand groped among the corn chips and I stuffed a fistful into my mouth, scattering crumbs everywhere. What was it that Stella had said about being sophisticated?

Then, thank God, Stella returned with a lemonade for Jay and a fresh cup of punch for herself, and she took over. Jay and I only had to stand there while she chattered and played with her hair and spilled her punch down her top; she did all the work.

She complimented Jay on his detective work in tracking her down; she asked him what he planned to do after Year 12. He said he wanted to travel for a while, maybe to America, and think about it, which was a fairly cool answer. She told him what she and I were doing and our plans – architecture for Stella, arts for me; she asked about Elliot and did he like Law. I tried to look nonchalant, which should have been easy, because I didn't even
know
Elliot. She asked how long they'd lived where they lived – they'd moved there for their dad's work five years ago.

I had to hand it to Stella; I couldn't have thought up half those questions. Someone came by with a fistful of raspberry Breezers and Stella grabbed one; I was still nursing my first cup of punch. I was half listening to see if Jay called Stella Bridie, to confirm my theory that he'd mixed our names up, but he didn't. He just stood beside me, sipping his lemonade and smiling his soft, shy smile.

The party grew louder and louder around us, and Stella's questions became shriller and less coherent. After a while I noticed that she wasn't listening to Jay's replies. Her eyes flickered around and she swigged from her drink. She'd laugh for no reason and shoot out another question, even if Jay hadn't finished answering the last one. And at last, slightly befuddled by the punch myself, I realised Stella was completely, totally, utterly, horribly wasted.

JUST AT THAT moment, Stella lurched forward and clutched Jay's sleeve. ‘Dance with me, Jay,' she purred, running her hand up and down his arm, and tilting her head sideways.

I tried to step back but I was trapped by the table. Then I noticed that Jay's one green-gold eye was wide in panic.

‘I can't dance,' he murmured, gesturing vaguely to his ribs, but Stella's fingers tightened round his arm and she began to drag him to the end of the deck where people were swaying to the music.

‘Come
on
, Jay.' Her voice was too loud and her eyes were unfocussed, and a couple of buttons on her top had popped open, giving the whole world a great view of her bra. ‘C'mon, Jay, I saved your life, can't you have a little dance with me?'

Jay shot me a terrified look over his shoulder and I reached for Stella's other hand.

‘Jay doesn't want to dance yet,' I said. ‘Let's get some water; that punch has gone straight to my head.'

But Stella shook me off. ‘I want to dance!' she cried, much too shrilly. Faces turned in our direction and a couple of the older guys sniggered. One of them called, ‘You go, girl!' as Stella staggered onto the dance floor. She waved her arms in the air and swung her long hair in wild circles.

‘Woo!' she shouted. ‘C'mon, Jay, dance with me!'

‘She's not normally like this,' I said helplessly to Jay. ‘She's just … nervous.'

‘Is that what it's called?' said Jay, with a small, worried smile.

Stella spun an unsteady pirouette and knocked an entwined couple off the deck.

‘Hey, watch it!' yelled the guy.

Oh, great,
I thought.
Now it's Stella's turn to get beaten up.

But Stella didn't last long on the dance floor. Inevitably, with the spinning and the head-shaking and the alcohol, her stomach rebelled. She staggered off the deck and swayed toward the pool. For one horrible second I thought she was going to fall in. But she sank abruptly to her knees at the pool's edge, delicately held her hair back with both hands, and threw up into the water.

That was when Bailey Hahn decided to appear – the first time I'd seen him all night. He planted himself in front of me, hands on hips. ‘She's got to go.'

‘Go?' I echoed blankly.

He jerked his thumb. ‘Out, now. Come on, Bridie, it's embarrassing. She's totally trashed and it's only half-past nine.'

‘She's not the only one!' I waved my hand at random people around the garden.

Bailey thrust his face close to mine. I wouldn't have lit a match to his breath, either. ‘She's thrown up in the
pool
! That's disgusting.'

I craned round him to see Stella, who'd rolled onto her back and was laughing weakly, hysterically, up at the sky. ‘Okay, we'll go, just let me —' I shoved past Bailey and ran to help Stella up. She lolled against me, her breath stinking of vomit.

‘You're my friend,' she murmured. ‘Oh, Bridie, I love you …'

‘Yeah, me too, whatever …'

Then I realised that Jay was there, holding her up on the other side.

‘I've got to get her home.' I blinked back tears. In Bailey's crowd, it was okay to be drunk, it was even sort of cool, but throwing up was a definite no-no, especially for a girl, and especially this early in the night. I bet Bailey himself would be chucking his guts up before the party was over, and in the morning he'd be bragging like a hero. But Stella overdoing the punch – that was a crime.

Everyone drew back as if we were toxic. Everyone except Jay; he was right there with his arm round Stella, vomit and all. ‘I have to call my mum,' I said. ‘Oh, no—'

‘What's wrong?'

‘Mum's not home till ten. We never thought we'd leave so early. I can't ring Stella's parents; they can't see her like this.'

The music pounded in my ears, the deck was throbbing. I didn't know what to do.

‘I could call my brother,' suggested Jay in his soft, calm voice, and I swear I could have kissed him.

‘Oh, Jay, I love you,' murmured Stella, leaning against his chest, and Jay flushed sunburn-pink beneath his bandages.

Bailey Hahn muscled in again. ‘I mean it, Bridie, you've got to leave now.'

‘Or what? You'll call security?' Then it occurred to me that he could do exactly that.

‘Just let me clean her up, okay?' I snapped, and together Jay and I led Stella inside. I pushed her into a bathroom and sponged her face and made her rinse her mouth. She threw up again, in the toilet this time, thankfully, but when we emerged, she was looking pretty white.

Jay was waiting. He offered Stella his arm and escorted her through the crowd as if they were the prince and princess leaving the ball.

‘Thanks for a wonderful party,' he said politely to Bailey's dad, who was hovering at the door, presumably gearing himself up to kick us out, or maybe just checking that Stella didn't heave on the good cushions on the way.

‘Yeah, it was fabulous.' I swept past. ‘Great idea, tipping all that vodka in the punch.'

Stella waved blearily at everyone from Jay's arm. She stumbled at the door and I thought she was going to crash down the steps, but Jay and I steadied her. We made it onto the footpath and some way down the street without major injury. Then Stella kind of swooned onto the nature strip, giggling, and Jay sat down abruptly, clutching his side.

‘Oh, no, your ribs! I'm so sorry. I forgot …' ‘Not your fault.' He winced. ‘Hurts though. Elliot's on his way. Probably about fifteen minutes.'

‘Thanks so much, Jay. I don't know what to say. Stella's not … She's never done this before, truly.'

Jay didn't say anything. He sat on the grass beneath a streetlight, looking at me. I felt my face glow hot. Stella was lying flat on her back a short distance away, crooning softly to herself.

‘You're a good friend,' he said at last.

‘I never wanted to go to this stupid party in the first place!' I blurted. ‘I'm not … I'm not really a party person.'

‘Me neither,' said Jay. ‘Not this kind of party.' He turned away and mumbled, ‘I've never been to a party like that before.'

‘I don't think I ever will again, after tonight,' I said. ‘And I'm pretty sure Stella – well, maybe Stella will. I guess she won't remember much about it.'

Jay smiled his quiet smile and I found myself liking him more and more. ‘Elliot talked my parents into letting me come. He said I should see for myself what it was like.' He nodded towards Stella, who'd fallen silent, gazing dreamily up at the clouds. ‘I don't understand why anyone would do that to themselves.'

‘Fun?' I said vaguely, and we caught each other's eye and laughed. Jay clutched his ribs. ‘Oh, sorry!'

‘Sneezing's the worst,' he said. Then, very seriously, ‘Bridie.' So he did know my name. ‘Hello.'

‘There's something you ought to know about me. Something pretty important.'

Oh, God,
I thought.
He's gay? He's got a terminal illness? He's
going overseas? He's married?
– I don't know where that last one came from. ‘Okay,' I said in a nervous squeak.

‘I just think, you know, if we're going to get to know each other better … I mean, I don't know if you, if you want to be friends, but …'

‘Okay, what?'

He took a deep breath. ‘I'm a Christian.'

There was a pause.

‘Oh,' I said weakly at last. ‘Okay. A Christian … wow.'

It explained so much. The way he flinched when Stella blasphemed, the not drinking, the awkward way he'd looked around at the party, as if he'd landed among aliens. Hook up? Of course he didn't mean
hook up
. He was a total innocent.

But … in a nice way.

Behind us, music throbbed dully from the Hahns' house. A car roared past, stopped for an instant, disgorged a knot of party guests with a flurry of slammed doors, and roared away. Stella was singing again, a Zita Mariposa song:
the taste of honey
is on your lips; your tongue is honey for me.