Chapter 23 Unlikely Rescue
UNLIKELY RESCUE
“What are you going to do for your seventeenth birthday?” Shyanne flips a cooler open to look inside, like it might be different than the three others she’s flipped open.
“I don’t know.” I look to Andy where she sits on a display table, swinging her legs. “Pedicures, again?”
“You’re turning seventeen!” Shyanne cries. “We have to do something else. Something fun.”
“But what?”
“I don’t know.” She lets the lid of the cooler fall closed before lifting a thermos from the shelf. “This thing is huge. Who needs this much coffee?”
Neither me nor Andy answer her.
Holt is gone for two weeks at a hockey camp in Vancouver.
His coach signed him up last year because he thinks he’s going to go big, and he said scouts sometimes watch these camps.
Apparently, it’s prestigious. I should hope it is, because I heard Herman Wilder complain about the cost of it to Dad as they shared beers on the front porch after the hard task of mowing their lawns.
Not to mention, Rubble Ridge is too small of a town to bother keeping ice in the summer.
For that, you’ve gotta travel to the bigger cities.
Since Holt has his sights set on playing for the Vancouver Vikings, hockey camp in Vancouver just makes sense.
Before moving to Rubble Ridge, I’d had no idea how much hockey there was in the summer. It’s a thing. Who’d have thought?
The bell on the door chimes as it opens, and I see Dad rushing in. He’s carrying the big thermos Shyanne just looked at, and I bite back a laugh as her eyes widen.
“Sorry I’m late, girls.” Dad moves behind the counter to dump his arm full of belongings. “Thanks for staying, but I’ve got the fort now.”
“No problem, Mr. Foster.” Andy slides off the table. “We don’t mind hanging out here.”
“Totally.” Shyanne places the hot dog stick back on its rack. She’s like a toddler in a store. She has to touch everything.
I grab my bag from behind the counter, sliding it onto my shoulder. Before the girls arrived to pick me up, I’d been reading the latest vampire romance book. I’m addicted.
“Oh, Faye,” Dad calls, looking a little flushed. “I set up the tent in the back yard for you girls and your mom bought all the snacks.”
“Thanks Dad.” I smile, because now I know he was late because he was setting up the tent for me.
Micha cracks another Smirnoff Ice and hands it to me before he slings his arm around Andy’s shoulders. Fire crackles and pops and a group cheers from somewhere farther away. Shyanne folds her arms and glares toward the noise.
She’s wearing her bitch face. The one I now know is a mask for her pain.
As my eyes drift in the direction she’s looking, I find the source of her pain. Kevin and Jenna are making out by the pool. She’s in his lap, clearly grinding into him for all to see.
I look away, flushed.
I wish Holt were here.
Pushing the thought away, I move closer to Shyanne. “Forget them.”
“I shouldn’t have come here.” I hate how she clings to things, to boys. She falls fast and she falls hard. And when it’s time to let go, it’s not easy for her.
It sucks.
“Everyone is here, Shy.” I offer a small smile. She hasn’t spoken to Jenna since it happened. If there’s anyone who could teach a masterclass on holding a grudge, it’s Shyanne.
“I can’t even drink,” she pouts.
I frown down at the drink in my hands, wincing. “Sorry.”
“I don’t mean it like that.” She brushes my apology off. “Just that I wish I could get wasted so that I don’t have to think about them.”
She looks at Kevin and Jenna again. My eyes follow. Kevin’s hands are up the back of Jenna’s shirt and it seriously looks like they might go even further.
Shyanne spins away. “Fuck it. We can sleep in my car.”
I glance down at the drink in my hand and back up at Shyanne. She’s already cracked a can, and she’s doing a damn good job of working to catch up to me and Andy.
So much for being the DD.
“We are not sleeping in your car!”
“Too bad.” Shyanne giggles. “I’m loaded.”
We’re all loaded. And my parents expect us home some time tonight. It’s almost eleven at night, so I know if we don’t get home soon, they’re going to start calling.
I should just call them. They’d come pick us up, but they probably wouldn’t be happy about it. Especially because we’re not legally supposed to drink, even though I know they know I’ve done it.
Still, they’d be disappointed. In me and in Shyanne. I don’t want them to be disappointed in either of us.
Saying nothing, I slip away from my friends. Kevin took Jenna up to his room forever ago, but I see them coming down the stairs as I pass the massive patio doors to a quieter corner of the deck. Her hair is messy even though I’m sure she’s tried to smooth it.
I’m pretty sure they had sex.
Turning my back to them, I look out to the picture of mountains under the dark spread of night sky. I press the contact and lift my phone to my ear.
It only rings once before I hear, “Faye?”
“Hi, Tate.” I wince.
He must hear it because he demands, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Um—well—I do need help.”
He sounds so alert; I instantly regret calling him. “What do you need?”
“I’m at Kevin’s party.”
“Did someone hurt you?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. Shyanne was supposed to stay sober but—well, she didn’t. We have no way to get home. Everyone is loaded and staying the night, or they don’t have room for us in their cars.” I tip my head back and sigh. “I don’t want to sleep here, Tate. Will you please come get us?”
He makes a noise that sounds disappointed and maybe even annoyed. I instantly feel terrible. “Yeah.” He mutters something under his breath. “Let me wake up Laura and we’ll be right there.”
“Oh, Laura’s there?”
There’s a pause. It’s heavy and long. Then, “Yeah.”
“It’s okay, don’t wake her. I’ll figure something out.”
“I said I’d be there, Faye.” He does not sound happy.
“Were you sleeping?” I don’t know why I ask.
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry.” I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so small.
“Yeah. Give me fifteen minutes.”
Tate disconnects, and I slide my phone back into my pocket. The drink in my hand holds no appeal anymore, and I dump it as I make my way back to my friends.
I tell them, “Tate is going to pick us up.”
Andy’s eyes come to me, looking suddenly sober. “You called Tate?”
“It was that, call my parents, or sleep in Shy’s car.”
“But—Tate?”
I don’t like the way she’s looking at me. “Yeah. He and Laura are coming to get us.”
Andy nods. Then she says, “Kay.”