Crash Test Love (19 page)

What does that say about me?

Garret sneaks out the next morning before my dad wakes up. She says she’l cal me.

I bum around for the rest of the afternoon. I sit down at the piano and play through one of Gavin DeGraw’s songbooks and go for a run. I toss a bal around with Max in the backyard. I cannot stop thinking about last night.

Maybe it’s not a big deal. There are a mil ion reasons why she could have said no. Most of them probably make a lot of sense. After al , I know she was upset about something when she rst came over. But al I am convinced of is this: She doesn’t like me. She doesn’t want me.

I have never cared what anyone thought of me before. It never mat ered. Now, though, it does, and the idea that two people who are clearly so right for each other can feel so di erently about one special act—sex—confuses the hel out of me. Isn’t love, in its most basic form, physical? Isn’t that what separates the way you feel about a friend from the way you feel about a girlfriend? An emotional connection isn’t everything—what about sparks? What about reworks? What about an explosion?

But explosions are eeting. I know this from experience. And when they’re over, you’re not left with al that much. There are girls I’ve been with whose names I can’t even remember. So I guess the di erence between hooking up with someone you don’t real y care about versus hooking up with someone you do care about is like the di erence between lighting a sparkler in your backyard and Fourth of July reworks. It’s so much bet er when there’s a connection that runs beneath the skin. It’s so much bet er when there’s love. Or at least the possibility of love.

I know Garret feels it. I know she does. So why did she say no?

Around ve, Duke and Nigel show up unannounced on my front porch.

ME

Uh, hey, guys. What’s up?

DUKE and NIGEL

What’s up with you?

They walk past me and deposit themselves at my kitchen table. They look serious.

ME

So?

NIGEL

When were you gonna tell us that Garrett works at the movie theater with you?

Ouch. I am one hundred percent caught.

ME

How did you guys nd out?

DUKE

Some freshman girl saw you two—

NIGEL

(interrupting)

What does it matter how we found out? We found out. You lied to us.

ME

I didn’t lie, technically.

NIGEL

What do you call it, then?

ME

Omitting the truth?

DUKE

You’re whipped, man.

NIGEL

Whipped.

ME

What?

NIGEL

We don’t want you seeing this girl anymore, Henry. She’s messed with your head. You don’t hang out with us anymore, you don’t return our calls, and now Destiny’s Sweet Sixteen is, like, a week away and we have nothing planned.

DUKE

Nothing. And it’s your fault.

They’re not wrong. I haven’t been hanging out with them, and Garret has messed with my head. A day ago, I would have told Duke and Nigel to back o , but after last night I’m not so sure anymore.

ME

Fine. So I’ve been hanging out with Garrett a lot. I’m sorry.

DUKE

Not good enough. We want our old friend back.

NIGEL

This is exactly why we don’t hook up with the same girl more than once. They’re like witches. They hypnotize you.

ME

First of all, you guys don’t really hook up with anyone, so there’s that. Second, nobody’s hypnotized me, and Garrett isn’t a witch. I hang out with her because I like her.

NIGEL

You used to like us, too, Henry. We’ve been friends for a long, long time, and it sucks to see you throwing all that away because of some girl—no matter who she is. We don’t deserve to be treated like this.

DUKE

It sucks even more that you’re seeing her behind our backs. And lying about it! We’ve been there for you a lot, man, especially … you know.

ME

Especially what?

DUKE

After your mom left.

ME

My mother doesn’t have anything to do with this.

NIGEL

She has everything to do with this. We know you haven’t had it easy, Henry, but it’s not like we’re living perfect lives either. Friends share things, and they help each other. They don’t keep secrets.

I let Nigel’s words sink in. He’s right, of course. I’ve been pushing them away because of Garret , because of the feelings for her I don’t real y understand. Even though Duke and Nigel mean wel , they have no idea what’s going on in my life. Which is my own damn fault.

I look at them with sad eyes. “I’m sorry,” I say.

DUKE

Let’s all kiss and make up, okay? We have a lot of work to do for Destiny’s big day.

His words hit me like a punch. Planning for a Sweet Sixteen—even if it wil be on MTV—is the absolute last thing I want to do right now. I’m exhausted. Everything about the night before comes back to me in a ash. I’m worried about Garret and sad about myself, and I can’t deal with debating what kind of stupid prank to pul at a party that doesn’t even mat er.

ME

You know what? Count me out.

NIGEL

Come again?

ME

I’m out. Not interested. You can mess with Destiny’s party on your own.

DUKE

(like he’s about to cry)

You don’t really mean that, do you?

ME

I do.

Duke and Nigel look at each other; obviously, they’re shocked.

NIGEL

I don’t know what’s happened to you, buddy, but something is very, very wrong. And we’re gonna do whatever it takes to get you back to your old self. Do you hear me?

Whatever it takes.

DUKE

P.S., Henry. Screw you.

Duke shakes his head and stomps out of the kitchen. Nigel fol ows him. This is not good.

Two hours later, I leave my house. Dad’s watching TV—I doubt he’l realize I’m gone.

I drive around aimlessly for a while, feeling sorry for myself. I’m sick over what happened with Garret . I feel terrible about how I treated Duke and Nigel, who would do anything for me. Eventual y, I nd myself outside the Jericho Terrace, where I’ve crashed a fair amount of Sweet Sixteens. It’s just get ing dark; the entire building glit ers with light.

I pul into the parking lot across the street and open my trunk. Inside is a spare suit (plus a shirt, tie, and dress shoes) for emergencies such as this. I don’t know if any Sweet Sixteens are happening, but there must be a party I can sneak into. Maybe it’l make me feel bet er to dance, to get lost in a crowd. That used to make me so happy. Only now I wonder if I was ever real y happy, or if I was just fooling myself.

I sneak in through one of the service entrances, navigating the familiar turns until I’m in the lobby. I nd the bathroom and go into one of the stal s, take out a ask I l ed up with vodka before I left, and swal ow. It burns. Then I splash some water on my face and emerge as though I’m just another partygoer.

No one even notices me.

I nd myself in one of the larger hal s, which is packed with tables and food and people, al in their fancy clothes, grooving on the dance oor.

I nd myself in one of the larger hal s, which is packed with tables and food and people, al in their fancy clothes, grooving on the dance oor.

The DJ is loud and the lights are dim. This place is perfect. I have no idea what kind of party it is; everyone looks slightly older than me. Maybe it’s a wedding. I close my eyes and start to move. I haven’t real y eaten anything today, and the alcohol hits me pret y fast.

My feet are moving so quickly I can’t feel the ground. I’m starting to sweat through my shirt. I need a break. I blink a few times, searching for a bar, and nal y see one in the corner. I want some water to cool me down, to help me think straight.

I ask for a glass with ice and down it in a second. I ask for another, and nish that one too. I’m about to ask for a third when I feel a tap on my shoulder. Busted. I turn around, trying to think of an explanation for why I’m there, and see someone I do not expect to see.

LONDON

Henry?

ME

Mmm?

LONDON

What are you doing here?

What is she doing here? Maybe she’l just go away.

LONDON (cont.)

Are you okay?

ME

I’m super. Stellar. How are you?

LONDON

I thought you only crashed Sweet Sixteens.

ME

I’m trying to, uh, broaden my horizons.

LONDON

In fact … I heard you didn’t crash any parties anymore.

I’m too drunk to gure out what she’s implying, but it probably has something to do with Garret . The last person I want to think about right now.

I shake my head and start to walk away.

ME

See ya.

LONDON

Henry, wait—

She grabs my arm. I wobble for a second and she pul s my other arm, dragging me closer. Her perfume is so strong I have trouble breathing.

LONDON (cont.)

We don’t talk anymore, and that makes me sad. Don’t you think it’s fate, running into each other here? I’ve missed you.

It’s not fate. It’s a party. And I might cry, because I’m pret y sure that the only girl I’ve ever real y liked doesn’t want to be with me.

But I don’t say any of those things, and before I realize what’s happening London has pressed her lips to mine. I try to pul away but her grip is strong. Also, it doesn’t feel half bad.

LONDON (cont.)

I forgot what a good kisser you are.

ME

Listen, London, I can’t—

LONDON

Don’t be silly. Come on. I know a spot where we can be … alone.

I have to make a decision, only my head is spinning and Garret has made me feel so undesirable that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to spend some time with someone who actual y wants to be with me, even for just a moment.

Before I have time to stop myself from doing something I know I wil regret, she takes my hand. I fol ow her. I am breaking the Crasher Code. I am breaking the trust I have built with Duke and Nigel. I am breaking the trust I have so quickly yet diligently built with Garret . But screw it

—right now I just don’t care.

GARRETT

“You look beautiful,” my mother says, running a brush through my hair.

I’m sit ing in front of my mirror. Mom hunts through her makeup box and pul s out a tube of mascara. “Are you excited about the party?” Destiny’s Sweet Sixteen. The night the past two months have been leading up to. Excited? No. Terri ed? Hel yes.

“I guess,” I say.

“I’m looking forward to meeting this mysterious date of yours,” Mom says. My parents have been shing for details over the past couple of days, and I’ve given them very lit le to go on—just a name, real y. “Henry.”

The mention of his name makes me dizzy. We’ve barely spoken al week, since the night I slept over at his house but didn’t sleep with him. Our conversations have been super cial and weird, both of us skirting around the issue of where, exactly, this relationship is heading. If it even is a relationship. Which it’s not. Not real y.

I wish I could tel him that I didn’t sleep with him because, when he apologized for the rumor, I realized just how he serious he is about me, and how much I real y do like him. And with that realization came an incredible amount of sadness. If I fol ow through with the original plan and break things o at Destiny’s party, I wil destroy him, and that is no longer what I want. But if I don’t, I’l have failed to achieve my own goal: to nd happiness and strength without a boy in my life (which, truthful y, is a more arduous journey than I expected).

Not to mention, the J Squad wil eat me alive.

“So, are you two an o cial couple?” Mom asks as she at empts to lengthen my lashes. “I thought you were swearing o boys until col ege.”

“I am,” I say, sighing. “I mean, I was. I mean … it’s complicated.”

Mom laughs. “Relationships are always complicated, Garret .”

“Yeah, but this one is especial y murky.”

She moves on to the eye shadow, the eyeliner, the lip liner, the lipstick, the blush, and the powder. I usual y go for a more natural appearance, but I must admit, the woman’s got talent. When I look in the mirror I barely recognize myself.

“Why don’t you explain it to me?” Mom asks. “I’m a good listener.”

She is, it’s true. What am I supposed to say, though? The major reason why I put this plan into motion in the rst place was to teach Henry a lesson. Only, it’s clear to me that he’s already learned one—more than one, maybe. So can I real y go ahead with doing what I promised the J

Squad I’d do? And now that Henry has been completely honest with me, isn’t it my turn to be honest with him?

I lean back on my bed, resting my head against the wal . I want to tel my mother what’s been going on, to have conversations like we used to have back in Chicago, before we moved and my life got so “Screwed Up” (Ludacris, 2003). But what wil she think of me?

“You know you can tel me anything,” Mom says, resting a hand on my shoulder. “What’s going on? You can leave out the dirty parts if you want.”