Chapter 7 Audrey #2
Mom gave us a stern yet kind look. “That being said, I’m not naive.
Drink only beer, don’t have more than two, and drink only from a bottle you opened and have been holding the entire time.
Obviously, if you need a ride, call us. We’d rather have you drunk than dead, and we’ll wait up.
” She put her arm around me and gave me a squeeze, and I squeezed back.
“You’re the best, Dr. Kate,” Beck said, grabbing a sandwich.
“Micah, Audrey says you’re the designated driver?” Mom asked.
“Yes, Dr. Kate. I’ll be driving Audrey’s car.”
“That means no drinking at all for you, young lady.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The truth was, Micah usually got plastered at parties, but she’d offered, which had been a surprise. Jasmine was a nervous driver and, like Micah, didn’t have her own car. Beck hadn’t even gotten her license—too busy with basketball, she said—so we’d be taking my Honda.
“Well. Have fun, and make good choices,” Mom said.
“Isn’t that an oxymoron?” Jasmine said with a grin.
“Listen to you, Miss Princeton,” Mom said, giving her a hug. Jasmine hugged her back, eyes closed, smiling. They all wished they had a mother like mine, Jasmine especially. “Come on, Stephen. Let’s let them beautify in peace.”
“The perfect family,” Jasmine murmured as Mom left, a wistful note in her voice. “You really are the lucky one, Audrey.”
“Let’s stay here instead,” Beck said. “Watch a movie, eat popcorn.”
“Don’t be boring,” Micah said. She looked even more luminous tonight with her effortless style—hair tumbling down her back, held off her face by a red bandanna.
She wore a David Bowie T-shirt, torn jeans and Converse high-tops, and somehow looked ready to do a shoot for Teen Vogue. “You guys ready?”
Again, I was flooded with that weird hum of anxiety, even as we thundered down the stairs, calling goodbye to my parents. Just nine weeks left of the Core Four. But I shouldn’t think about that now, I told myself. We still had plenty of time together.
I didn’t realize that night would be the last time we’d speak for a quarter of a century.
The party was an upscale version of all parent-free high school parties. Music too loud, too many people, lots of alcohol, clouds of marijuana smoke. I immediately felt nervous. I hated that I couldn’t hear anyone, had to shout, all that.
“Omigod, Audrey, I’m gonna miss you so, so much,” slurred Amber Gillette. She threw her arms around me. “I wish I coulda joined the Core Four. I always thought you were awesome.” The smell of tequila and her Calvin Klein Eternity perfume made my nose sting.
“You’re awesome, too, Amber,” I said, disentangling myself. I saw Micah head up a staircase with James. Beck was talking to Ché—about sports, no doubt—and I went over to her. “Hey, keep an eye on Micah, okay?” I said. “She’s our driver, and she just slipped out with James.”
“Roger that,” Beck said. “Okay, Ché, tell me more about your greatness. The Forty-Niners or the Eagles? Wheaties or Nike?”
I wandered off, trying to look for Derek without it seeming like I was looking for Derek.
Jasmine was talking to Hans Jensen, one of Micah’s former boyfriends, laughing and nodding as she sipped a beer.
I, too, held a beer, which was bitter and sharp and made me wonder why people voluntarily drank it.
There was Mean Charlotte, who’d made fun of Jasmine in kindergarten.
She had not improved with age. I pretended not to see her and continued through the throng of classmates, hugging, being hugged, chatting, having some food.
I laughed as Beck, who’d found a microphone, sang along with “Bye Bye Bye” without shame.
I danced with a group of classmates, wondering whether Derek was ever going to notice me and single me out.
He was too busy being the host, always in conversation with someone other than me.
As the minutes passed, part of me wished I were home with my parents. This made me feel juvenile and needy, so I redoubled my efforts. “Hey, you!” I said to Ava Bianchi. “Congrats on MIT!”
“It’s RIT,” she said, unsmiling.
“What?”
“Rochester Institute of Technology.”
“Oh. But still, great!”
And then, finally, there was Derek. “Hey!” he said. “You made it! Thanks for coming, Audrey!” He gave me a hug, and pheromones surged into my bloodstream so fast and hard I practically levitated.
“Thanks for having me,” I said, smiling up at him.
“God, you are so cute,” he said. “You’ve never been here, have you? Come on, let me show you around.” He took me by the hand and pulled me from the living room. My whole body tingled. It was happening! He was holding my hand. “You hungry?”
“Sure,” I said.
“There’s food out by the pool. Let’s go.”
For the next hour or two, Derek and I hung out, danced a little, ate a burger.
Eventually, he said, “Let’s go somewhere where we can hear ourselves think,” and pulled me into yet another gorgeous, Scandinavian-style room.
The couch was firm, and it was quiet . .
. no one else was here. Thank God. My ears were ringing from the loud music.
Tonight, I might get kissed.
“I wish we’d hung out more during school,” Derek said. “It sucks, just getting to know you now.”
“I know,” I said, my body thrumming with lust and joy. “Well, there’s still summer.”
“You’re right. Hey, you should totally come down to the Vineyard for a couple weeks. Can you? The house has plenty of bedrooms, and it’s right on the beach.”
“Maybe,” I said, already planning my wardrobe. “Hey, where are you going to college? I can’t believe I don’t know.” I knew, obviously.
“Emory. In Atlanta? Kind of a family tradition. What about you?”
“I’m going to SCAD.” At his blank look, I added, “Savannah College of Art and Design.”
“Cool! We’ll both be in Georgia,” he said. “Can’t be too much of a drive.” He smiled. I smiled back. Then he lowered his head and kissed me.
It was . . . wet. His lips were hot, and he tasted like hamburger. Not the kiss of my dreams. Did all guys start with tongue? If so, could they stop?
We kept at it, and it became a little less messy, a little better. Still, I couldn’t help feeling a sense of disappointment.
Derek pulled back. “You okay?” he asked.
“Yes! Absolutely.” It was probably me not being experienced in kissing, no matter how much I’d practiced on my pillow.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want.” He smoothed a strand of hair away from my face, and my insides melted.
“No, I know.” I blushed.
“Want a hit of weed? Just to relax a little?”
“My mom would kill me.”
He looked around the room. “I don’t see her here.” He pulled a joint out of his pocket and lit it, then took a hit. “Just a little, if you’re a first-timer.”
I was definitely a first-timer. I wanted to relax, to like kissing, to have this be all I’d imagined. One little inhale. I took the joint, channeled Jeff Bridges in The Big Lebowski, then began coughing violently. “God! That is awful!” I wheezed. Derek laughed and patted my back.
“Cough to get off,” he said, taking the joint from me and inhaling again.
My head immediately felt floaty, and my legs were weak and tingly. I laughed. “My knees feel funny,” I said.
“Is that right,” Derek said.
Then we were kissing again, and this time, it was nice and easy and natural, our lips together, tongues sliding. I liked kissing now. Kissing was nice. Very nice. Derek’s hands were warm as they slid against the skin of my back, and I was glad I’d worn the crop top. Yes. This was great.
Suddenly, I felt like someone was watching us. I pulled back abruptly, feeling tricked.
“What’s up?” Derek asked.
“Is someone in here? Other than us? It feels like someone is here.”
“Nope. No one’s allowed in this room. You’re a VIP.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What does that mean? Are you going to pull something?”
“What? No! I would never. Just relax, okay?” He kissed my hand, which was balled in a fist.
I was not feeling relaxed. I felt nervous and a little angry and neurotic. “Is there a camera in here? Security camera or something? Nanny cam?”
“Um, no, Audrey,” he said patiently. “No one is filming anything.”
“I need to go,” I announced. “Get me out of here.”
He sighed. “Okay. There’s the door. I should probably point out that weed makes some people paranoid, and it looks like you’re one of them.” He laughed easily, and too much. Oh. He was stoned, too. We were two stoned people.
I looked at my watch. Shit! It was 1:12 a.m., and my curfew was 1:00! How could it be 1:12? I scrambled off the couch.
“Nice hanging with you,” Derek said, closing his eyes. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I opened the door and pushed myself back out into the crowded party. Why was everyone looking at me? God, there were so many people! Where were my friends? We needed to go home.
“Beck!” I shouted. “Micah, Jasmine! We need to go!”
Like a bloodhound, I wove through my classmates, grabbing people occasionally so I didn’t fall. God, I was dizzy. Finally, there was Beck. I grabbed her arm. “We’re leaving. Now.”
“Are you okay, Auds?” she asked, tilting her head, which made me dizzy all over again.
“Yes! Why is everyone asking me that? I’m fine! I just want to go.”
Jasmine was laughing with the two Jasons. “Come on!” I barked. “We have to go! We’re late! I should call my mom.”
“Did you smoke something?” Beck asked.
“Yes! Weed! One hit with Derek. Can we just go? Where’s Micah? Is she okay?” I did sound a little paranoid. I definitely felt anxious.
“I don’t know,” Beck said.
“You were supposed to keep an eye on her!”
“I didn’t realize that meant watching her every single second,” Beck said, irritated. Did she hate me now? What if she hated me?
“Hey, Core Four!” Louie Drake said. “You gals wanna drink?”
“Why would you even ask us that?” I snapped. “Don’t ask us that!” I was on the verge of tears. My whole body felt like it was trembling, and I just wanted to go home.