11. The Kinney Hale Diaries Video Diary Entry #74
JANUARY 2040
AFTER CHAPTER 56 IN FEARLESS LIKE US
We listened to "Ready to Run" by The Chicks and "GOOD" by Erin McCarley while writing this scene.
Character List:
Ben Cobalt - 17
Xander Hale - 17
Winona Meadows - 15
Vada Abbey - 15
Kinney Hale - 15
Audrey Cobalt - 14
**
KINNEY HALE
Before the Party
I FACE THE reflection of my camera’s phone through the bathroom mirror, and I try not to wobble on my black three-inch heels.
“I know, future me, you’re probably thinking why in the hell I’m recording this like I’m some douchebro taking a mirror selfie for a dating profile. But I have a reason. Don’t worry.” I take a readying breath. “First, I have to welcome you to video diary number seventy-four. Yes, we’re still recording on my phone after the whole camcorder debacle.” I wave a hand like it’s in the past. It quite literally is past. “But this is better than nothing, and I get that I’m risking hackers, but Uncle Garrison assured me that our cloud security is really good. Whatever that means.”
I shrug. “Anyway, I’m pretty positive if a security breach happened, other people in the family would be way worse off. The probability that one of my cousins has taken a dick pic is super high”—I grimace—“ugh, just thinking it makes me want to scrub out my brain. Luckily for you, future me, I vowed not to rewind and delete. So you’re going to be stuck with that horrifying mental image.
“Speaking of image…” In the mirror, I stare at myself for an extra long beat. My hair is cut short near my shoulders. Smokey black makeup accents my green eyes. “Let’s just hope that I look older tonight.”
Dark burgundy lipstick and winged eyeliner scream fuck off. “Really, I just kinda hope I don’t look like I’m playing dress up.” I narrow my eyes harder at my reflection like I can somehow decipher all perceptions of me. “You know, I want to look mature for my age. Wise beyond my fifteen years. Like I will slit your throat in your sleep or go voyage with ancient vampiresses in Romania.”
I nod strongly. “Aesthetically, I hope that’s what I’m conveying,” I tell the mirror. “And you know, I guess my biggest worry is that everyone will just look at me and see a fraud. Someone trying too hard to be tough. I bet Aunt Rose never had this problem. She was probably born in the womb with five-inch heels and a razor-sharp glare.”
I let out a resigned sigh. “I guess I should do like updates on everyone, but I’m trying to keep these video diaries short these days. Ten-minute videos are out. Ten-second clips are in.” I roll my eyes like whoever made these rules can go fly a kite. “I’m somewhere in between. Always have been, I guess. Can’t fit me into a box or whatever, or maybe you can—maybe I just wish I can’t be crammed so neatly in one.” I rock on my heels. “Anyways, today is Audrey’s pre-birthday bash without her annoying brothers.” I pause. “Okay, Ben is invited, but the other turds are not. Especially the Wretch. And as one of Audrey’s best friends, I have to make sure this sip-in-snow goes off without too much drama.”
I take another beat. “Okay without the bad kind of drama. Because some drama is actually quite entertaining, and I know Audrey would agree. But before I end the diary, I have to document the fit…” I wave a hand to my black mini dress and knee-high stockings. The top is corset-style with black laced straps cinching the back.
“Dad would never let me leave the house in this,” I say to my camera through the mirror. “So it’s good he has no idea about the party. In fact, no one but Xander, Ben, and the girls are in on it. Audrey says that her parents won’t find out, but I think it’s highly unlikely Aunt Rose will be duped tonight. She’s far too smart for that.
“And then there’s Betha—” I cut myself off before completing her whole name.
My face roasts, and I’m just talking to myself!
“I’ll mention her later if all goes well,” I say hurriedly. “And if it doesn’t then we shall erase her name from existence.” I force a dry smile. My dating life is pathetic. Bad luck. That whole shebang is just sad, sad, sad. And I’d be fooling myself to think there’s any upside in sight.
I’m not an optimist. I’m a realist.
And realistically my track record with girls is just not great. They all leave me—one way or another. Just thinking about it makes me glare into the mirror.
“Anyway, I’ll report back tonight if there’s any news. Until next time, this is your favorite person in all universes—Kinney Hale.” I end the recording, thankful that I got my outro slogan down even if I’m scowling when I say it. I’ve come a long way since my first video diary at least.
Footsteps sound in the bedroom before Audrey peeks her head in the bathroom. Her carrot-orange hair frames her angular face, and her white sweater almost blends in with her pale skin but it also accentuates the fieriness of her hair.
“There you are,” she says, half out of breath. She frowns. “Why are you hiding in my bathroom?”
“I’m not hiding,” I say, totally blasé-like. I’m innocent, here.
She sees the phone in my fist. “Oh, let’s take a mirror selfie! Those are positively my favorite.” She’s already sliding beside me and smiling into the mirror.
We both give each other bunny ears, and I snap a quick pic and then air drop it to her phone. She’s catches my wrist in excitement. “Vada made the best party punch.”
“How’d she get the liquor?” I wonder.
Aunt Rose and Uncle Connor have their liquor cabinets locked. My family and the Meadows don’t keep alcohol in the house, and Uncle Garrison is like a bloodhound. He can spot teenage debauchery from a mile away since he was once a teenage delinquent.
At least that’s what my dad says.
“Long story.” She hooks her arm through mine. “Shall we talk and walk?”
I smile, her peppy energy always seeping through me in forceful waves. Most of the time I’ll swat that kind of bubbly energy away, but if it’s coming from Audrey, I allow it in. “Let’s,” I agree.
We exit her bathroom and through her bedroom that is newly painted sage green with twinkle fairy lights. It has a fairy princess vibe. Almost every time I’m back in her room it’s a new color. A new aesthetic. She’s trying things out. Which—I get.
The media doesn’t always post articles about me, Audrey, Winona, and Vada since we’re so much younger, but that doesn’t mean we’re not discussed in the comment sections and on fandom sites like Fanaticon. Mom and Dad disapprove of lurking in these forums, and I wouldn’t lurk too long amongst the trolls. I mostly peek and make sure their troll juices don’t rub off on me. There are cool posts though where people aren’t so rude.
I know a lot of them wonder when I’ll “outgrow” my goth phase, and they’ve talked about Audrey and her childhood love of pink too.
Outside voices can be too loud sometimes. That’s what Mom always tells me.
We leave her fairy bedroom and go through the long hallway as she starts explaining the origins of the liquor. “Vada bikes with this guy at the BMX track who goes to Maybelwood. His brother is twenty-one, and he picks him up every day. So she posed the age-old question.”
I tilt my head. “Can you buy me a handle of vodka?” I guess.
Audrey smiles. “Precisely. And she was able to score gin too.”
I want to be as excited as Audrey—mostly since it’s her birthday—but I’ve never tried gin. Neither has Moffy. My big brother was like the guinea pig for everything but alcohol. I think he accidentally had vodka? But it was an accident. That doesn’t count. He didn’t even realize he was drinking liquor.
We descend the winding staircase together. “Does she even know this guy’s name?”
“I think she knows the BMX guy,” Audrey says. “Not his brother’s name though.”
“This doesn’t sound sketchy at all,” I say dryly.
Audrey mulls this over before wincing. She speaks in French, but she’s said this one word enough that I’m sure it means, true.
“We should keep an eye on Vada,” I suggest. “So no pervs come after her.”
“Always,” Audrey nods.
Audrey, Winona, and I have agreed that since Vada doesn’t have private security, we’d have to be her unofficial security squad. I get she’s not famous and in the media, but it doesn’t mean she’s not dealing with creeps. And I guess…normal people don’t have the luxury or privilege of private security, but she’s different.
She’s one of us.
We make it to the first level and slip into the kitchen where Winona swirls a ladle inside a giant bowl of red liquid.
“Welcome, welcome to Potion Making 101,” she says into a wide, silly grin. Her boho crocheted crop top stops just above her belly button. She waggles her fingers like she’s casting a spell over the punch.
“You’re a natural,” I state with a nod.
“Oui,” Audrey agrees.
Winona is always moving, always bouncing around, and if she was magically inclined, I would give her all my potions to stir.
“Is alchemy my one true calling?” She wags her brows.
“Depends,” Vada pops a corn chip into her mouth. She sits on the marble counter next to the sink, her long sandy brown hair tucked behind each ear. It almost looks blonde in the light. “What kind of a potion is it?”
“A love potion?” Audrey asks, heading to the pantry.
I sniff the overly sweet punch. “Definitely more like a death potion. And ew, what’s floating in it?”
“Skittles,” Vada says like it’s a normal ingredient. “Nona brought them.”
“Are Skittles vegan?” Audrey wonders, returning with a bowl of pretzels.
“These ones are,” Winona says, switching the ladle to her other hand. “And drinking this won’t cause death. I am a peaceful plankton in the sea.”
Vada throws a corn chip at her. “Lies.”
“You have claws and pinchers,” I remind Nona.
“She’s of the lobster family,” Audrey chimes in.
“Crab,” I state.
“Crabs are so cute,” Vada says into a bite of chip.
Winona stirs with both hands. “Okay, maybe I’m more crab.”
“A cute crab,” Audrey corrects.
“Definitely,” I nod.
Winona smiles and then ladles the punch into a plastic cup. “How much do you want, babe?” She asks Audrey first, the birthday girl.
“To the very brim,” Audrey grins, her excitement palpable.
She spoons a full cup for Audrey and passes it over. Audrey waits to take a sip, but she cups the punch like hot chocolate warming her palms.
Vada holds out her cup while Winona ladles punch into it. I’ll have to update my video diary later and describe my best friends’ fits. I take a mental note of Vada’s: a black corduroy skirt, dark tights, high-top Converses, and one item throws off the whole look—a Juicy Couture rhinestone long-sleeve shirt. She insisted on buying it the last time we went thrifting. It’s vintage, she said. To which all three of us told her, not all vintage is good vintage.
Mainly we were at the thrift store to spy on my sister and her friends, Tom and Eliot (Audrey’s brothers). We thought we’d catch them out in the wild doing “chaotic” things, but they were kinda boring. My sister tried on a lot of hats while Tom talked nonstop about the song he was working on for his band. The only action was when Eliot flirted for point-five seconds with this tall gorgeous brunette, and unfortunately, she succumbed way too easily to his game—if it can even be called that.
Shopping together turned out to be more fun than snooping, and Vada got her “vintage” shirt out of the trip. I appreciate that she receives our fashion advice and then ditches it in the garbage to just do what she wants. It’s kind of badass.
Winona waits to fill a third cup and looks to me. “You want to taste test first, babe, or none for you?” I figure she won’t drink at all, so I’m not scared to forgo alcohol and feel like the loner, sober one.
I think for a second. I’ve had a sip of wine in Italy at my brother’s wedding, but besides that, I really haven’t had alcohol before.
In fact—we’re all kind of new to drinking.
Vada goes for it and takes a large gulp first. “Tastes like fruit punch.” She crunches on a Skittle.
“There you have it,” Winona says, pointing her ladle at Vada. “It’s an elixir of life!”
“I’ll get back to you in an hour.” Vada smiles, the gap between her teeth noticeable. It’s an endearing quality (and anyone who says otherwise will be throat punched by me and Nona).
“You’re not drinking, oui?” Audrey asks Winona.
“Yeah, none for me. I’m the potion stirrer, so hey, I’m kind of a part of the process, even if I can’t drink it.” She shrugs.
Vada and Audrey echo that she’s one-hundred percent involved, and as Winona waits for my decision on a taste-test, a cup, or to forgo the punch altogether, we meet each other’s gazes with a bit more weighted understanding.
Our dads.
Alcoholism.
Everyone in my family has made different choices concerning alcohol. Moffy obviously doesn’t drink unless his drink is accidentally spiked. Luna does drink. Xander’s pretty indifferent. And Sullivan didn’t try alcohol until she hit her twenties.
Where do I fall?
I feel like I can handle anything. I want to be able to handle anything. Like if I had some sort of dependence, I could glare at it and it’d run away scared. But my dad can send the meanest, harshest death glares at his enemies, and yet, he still has a kryptonite.
So maybe I just don’t touch the stuff.
But Luna drinks.
And I can’t imagine Luna being stronger than me. I love her, okay. But…I can’t be seen as the weak one in comparison. And if she can handle drinking and I can’t—what does that make me?
Winona sees my indecision. “We can watch out for the Birthday Girl together.”
But I can still look out for Audrey and Vada while drinking, can’t I?
“Someone should probably watch out for you,” Vada says to Nona into a sip of punch. “Are the fists coming out?”
“No, but the pinchers are.” Winona playfully pinches Vada’s bicep and cheek, and the girls start laughing while Vada squirms.
I miss something that Vada says to Audrey mid-giggle.
“Pardon?” Audrey asks like she’s a part of a monarchy.
“Are you going to try it?” Vada wonders.
“I was waiting for Kinney,” Audrey says.
“You go ahead.” Though, I do grab a cup.
Audrey gulps the punch, grinning.
“It’s your pre-birthday bash,” Winona says. “Let loose. Live free. Whatever you want. You shall be protected under this coven of chaos.”
I fill up my own cup. Just a little. “My favorite kind of coven.” My heart hammers in my chest. If I don’t try it—I’ll never know.
Winona watches me scoop punch, her smile descending just a little, but when she sees that I see, her smile returns and it feels magnetic, genuine. If you’re not a dick or total asshole, she’s always good at making you feel good. It’s a real gift.
Audrey pours water into another cup for her, and the four of us hoist our drinks in the air.
“To the smartest, coolest Cobalt,” Vada proclaims.
“To the true peaceful plankton in the sea,” Winona decrees.
“To our best friend for life,” I join in.
Audrey is beaming. She takes a big breath. We clink drinks and say, “To the last of us turning fifteen.”
During the Party
Music thumps softly outside, snow covering the ground, but the heated patio remains warm. It’s where I’ve sequestered myself with my untouched party punch. Yes, I didn’t sip after our toast, and my friends didn’t care.
I keep glancing at the punch like the Skittles are miniature eyeballs floating at the top.
A small gathering of Dalton students hang around the pool. Some play “party punch” pong, and a couple gossip at the outdoor fireplace. Audrey and Vada take on two other girls from our grade at punch pong. My best friends are losing—and it’s frankly hard to watch.
“Sip!” the crowds shout instead of “drink” to remain on theme for the sip-in-snow.
No one has their phone whipped out to film. Audrey, Vada, Winona, and I spent three hours combing through a yearbook to fine-tune our guest list, so I’m not that surprised that our friends here have manners.
Plus, they’re all prep school students who want to get into Ivy Leagues. One video of them underage drinking could ruin their entire future. No one wants to risk that just for a thirty-second memory of tonight.
I hang back by an artfully trimmed bush and stare at my phone. Bethany’s Instagram is popped up, and I could DM her and invite her to the sip-in-snow. The girls encouraged me to invite her—and I said I’d think about it.
I’m still thinking.
Thinking that she’s so much cooler than me. Stop, Kinney. Yeahyeahyeah. Putting myself down is just something I’m good at, and no matter how hard I try to be nicer to myself, it’s just a struggle. I don’t know…it’s like I give shit to other people, so if I don’t give shit to myself too then that just makes me even more of a bitch. Right?
I wish someone had the answers for me.
Absentmindedly, I take a sip from my drink. The taste is overly sweet, and my cheeks pucker. Truth: I can’t taste anything other than Cherry Fizz and lemonade. I guess that’s the fucking point. Before I can second guess, I dump it into the bush beside me and set the cup on a planter.
“Didn’t like the punch?” Xander asks, approaching with his own cup.
“It tastes gross,” I say. “Like drinking a Fruit Roll-Up.”
He shrugs like it’s whatever.
I watch him for a second. It’s still weird he came here. He’s been invited to a lot of parties growing up, and if we had any additional friends besides family, he’d never really go. I think he mostly hung out with Ben’s friends back when Ben invited him to soccer games. Or maybe it was lacrosse. It’s not like I was invited. So yeah, Ben sucks for leaving me out, but he’s not the only one who’s left me off invite lists for being “too young” and whatever.
Anyway, the fact that Xander is here right now is big.
And not just here at the party.
But here.
Emotions start barreling through me, and I almost regret throwing my drink away. Ugh, I have nothing to do with my hands, and I feel exposed. I glance hurriedly across the patio, noticing lots of the girls looking this way. At my brother.
He’s a spectacle. Always.
I sidestep in front of him and click back into my phone. “While you’re here, I could use your help,” I say, making a quick diversion so he doesn’t notice all the stares.
Maybe he still does.
But it makes me feel better knowing I’m doing something.
He frowns. “My help?”
“Yeah,” I say like he’s dense. “Your help, dummy.”
He rolls his eyes but he nods me on.
“Bethany Torch asked me to Winter Formal.” I wait for a reaction, but he has none. I scoff. “Bethany Torch,” I emphasize.
He frowns. “Should I know who that is?”
“She’s like the hottest girl in the senior class.”
He shrugs again.
Oh my God. He’s useless! No, no he’s not. I can still use his help. “Okaaay. So I need to know if you think Mom and Dad would be chill with me going to the dance with Bethany.”
“She’s a senior?” His frown returns.
“Eighteen,” I say the dreaded word.
He shakes his head and then stops. Then he tilts his head like he’s reconsidering. Then he shakes his head again. “No. There’s no way.”
“Ugh,” I groan.
His eyes soften. “I mean, I could help maybe? If you ask them when I’m around, they might be more lenient.”
It is true that Xander softens our parents in ways my other siblings and I can’t. I don’t want to use that for my gain, but is it really using it if he’s offering?
Before I can reply, I notice Vada and Winona ushering Audrey into the house in a hurried manner. The other guests don’t seem to be paying attention, too focused on the fact that Ben has approached the table of cups for punch pong. Except, they’re filling the cups with actual beer this time.
“I’ll be back,” I tell my brother, slipping away in a rush to follow my best friends. They’re helping Audrey into her bathroom when I catch up to them. She pukes on the floor as soon as Nona gets the toilet lid up.
“I’m stepping on it!” Vada squeals, barefoot.
“Sorrrrrry,” Audrey slurs.
“We don’t care about a little puke, babe,” Nona says, taking her hair in a fist and guiding her to the toilet.
Vada squeezes her eyes shut and tries not to gag. “I’d step in your puke any day, Audrey.” She stifles the next silent gag in her fist.
I hold back a snorted laugh and grab a towel from the linen closest. “Puke Feet,” I call out. Vada opens her eyes, and I toss the towel to her.
She catches it easily. “Kinney, I swear to all that’s holy if you make that my nickname?—”
“Won’t the BMX boys dig it?” I ask.
“They will not,” Vada says, wiping up her heels and then dropping the towel on the floor to clean up the vomit. She gives me a look. “Kinney.”
“Your secret is safe with me, Puke Feet.” I make a cross over my heart.
Vada turns to Nona in horror.
“She’s just joking,” Winona assures. “She’s not gonna keep calling you that.” She looks to me. “Right?” Her eyebrows rise in warning like she’s caring for a baby bird.
“Right.” I lean a hip in the door. “That’s what crossing my heart means.” I look Vada over. “Anyway why are you barefoot?”
“I was going to jump into the pool, so I took off my Converses,” Vada explains and tosses the dirty towel into the tub. I run cold water over a new washcloth.
Audrey pukes for the third or fourth time. I’ve lost count. Winona rubs her back tenderly.
“I told you it was a death punch,” I say, handing Nona the washcloth to wipe up any stray puke on Audrey’s face.
“Kinney,” Vada snaps. “Can we not talk about death right now?”
“Well unless she’s making love to the toilet, what do you call that?” I wave a hand at Audrey. “Because there’s no elixir of life in that party punch.”
“Guys, stop,” Nona says quietly. “Audrey is getting really pale.”
My stomach knots. “What?”
Vada bends down to Audrey, getting closer. I take a step back, frozen in the doorway. I’m such an idiot. A bitch. A karmic poisonous toxin. Why do I make jokes that just end up turning badly?
“Audrey?” Vada whispers in concern. She’s a better friend than me.
In fact, I’m positive that the Worst Friend award in our friendship group belongs to me.
I grind down on my teeth, trying to stop the dark emotions from barreling into me. Audrey keeps vomiting, and she’s normally pale. But I agree with Winona, her skin has turned ashy. If anything happens to her…my throat swells.
“Could it be alcohol poisoning?” Vada asks.
“I don’t know,” Nona breathes. “How much gin and vodka did you put in the punch?”
“I didn’t think it was that much. Maybe like half a handle of gin. Fuck, Nona.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Winona says quickly.
What would Aunt Rose do?
“We should call for backup,” I suggest.
Winona’s already grabbing her phone. She doesn’t give us any time to throw out suggestions. She dials a number. When her gaze hits mine, she says, “My sister will know what to do.”
I get it.
Sulli won’t nark.
Sulli understands getting sick from alcohol.
It’s not my first choice, but Nona was quicker to call.
My heart beats faster, watching Audrey puke again. I take Winona’s spot while she makes the call, and I keep Audrey’s hair out of her face. She takes deeper steadying breaths.
It’s okay.
Everything will be fine. It has to be.