In Real Life (20 page)

We jump apart and pull our phones from our pockets on impulse and just like that the spell is broken.

 

CHAPTER

20

My text is from Lo:
WHOLE GANG BACK 2GETHER, HEADING 2 PH. PROGRESS?

I assume Nick's text is from Frankie, but I'm sure it doesn't say the same thing. I do imagine it has tons of exclamation points, though.

“Well, it looks like everyone is going to the bar at Planet Hollywood,” he says. He sounds as dazed as I feel.

“What? A club?” No. The girls promised no clubs.

“Frankie has this friend who bartends over there. And it's not a club, don't worry. That wedding was more of a club than this is.” He slides his phone back in his pocket. “Wait. You don't have an ID. We need IDs or they'll kick us out.”

Maybe I'll tell him I don't have one, so we can stay up here at the top of Vegas, or find something else to do, just the two of us. I want to recapture that moment we were having a second ago, or that moment on the dance floor. Moments that felt like our phone calls, but better. There's no way to get those moments back and say what we need to say at some loud bar with six other people.

And his girlfriend.

I don't have to tell him anything, though. His phone beeps with another text. “Lo told Frankie you guys got fake IDs on the way out here.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Seriously? Hannah Cho, straight-A student, got an illegal fake ID?”

I groan. I'm going to murder Lo for this. “It was Lo's idea. She took us to this shady parking lot in the middle of nowhere and bought us IDs from a guy in a pedo van. All in the name of adventure.”

“Well,” he says, a devious-looking half-smile spreading across his face. “Looks like we'll be breaking the law together, tonight. Partners in crime. Literally.”

I don't want to go, I don't want to go, I don't want to go,
I think, but I don't say that. Instead I say, “You have Alex's old ID, right?”

“Yup.” He laughs a humorless laugh. “Aka his leftovers. As usual.”

We're back in the elevator and this time I clutch his arm as we zoom down. I don't know why we're leaving. I guess we both know we're on dangerous ground, but I'm not sure how much I mind being there. I know I chickened out big-time on my chance to tell him the truth, but our moment has me feeling more confident now. I can do this. I grip his arm without realizing it, and I can feel him start to pull away, then change his mind and relax into me. While the ride up felt like a trip to the moon, the ride down is over in seconds. Too quickly, the door slides open, and I resist the impulse to send the elevator back up, and reluctantly let go of Nick's arm instead.

Planet Hollywood is right next to Paris, so we're there pretty quickly, no cab needed. The entire walk, I suppress my urge to reach over and grab his hand again, touch him more. Now that we're on solid ground, I don't have the height or the elevator or even the magic of the Eiffel Tower Experience as an excuse for physical contact. Plus, his hands are deep in his pants pockets.

I try to come up with a way to bring us back around to our earlier conversation, so I can finish what I started to say and just get it out there already. My mind races with everything said and unsaid between us, but I can't manage to get any of those thoughts out of my mouth.

God, I'm just as bad at life as he is.

“Oh,” I manage to spit out as we walk up the steps leading to PH. “Your jacket. I should give this back to you.”

He pulls his hand out of his pocket and reaches it in my direction, then stuffs it back in again, and I swear I see everything that passed between us on the top of the Eiffel Tower reflected back at me in his face. “You don't want to keep it on?” His voice is quiet.

“Well, I do.…” I trail off. “I mean, it's warm. But I think it might look weird if I wear it in here. You know.”

“Oh, yeah.” He says it like he got temporary amnesia and forgot his perfect girlfriend existed.

I shrug out of the jacket and hand it back to him. I don't want to. I'd rather stay in Nick's jacket even if it's a million degrees inside this bar. And knowing Frankie, she'd probably go on and on about how nice her boyfriend is for giving his jacket to me when I'm cold. Yup, he's a real saint.

We walk through the sliding doors and into the casino. It's more crowded now that it's late at night, full of people dressed in their Vegas best, ready to party. I spot our group right as we walk in, including Grace and Alex, who must have decided they weren't too cool to keep hanging out with us youngsters. They're right past the burger place, gathered around a long, waist-high table on our left-hand side that is covered in glasses.

“Is this the bar?” It's a dumb question. There is definitely a counter with two guys behind it pouring drinks, and our friends are clearly drinking. But I haven't seen this part of the casino yet, and I guess when he said “bar,” I was picturing something different, like a bar on TV with wood paneling and beer signs and pool tables. Not this open area in the middle of the casino floor that doesn't even have walls.

“Yeah.” He points to the small stage area where a drum kit and a guitar are sitting alone. “They have a cover band play here sometimes.”

“I was expecting something more … like a bar,” I admit.

“They have another one over in the middle that kinda has walls, if that's more up to your standards, Miss Bar Expert. Maybe we can go over there in a bit.”

“I'm not looking for anything, smart-ass.” I give him a playful shove on the arm, and then pull my hand back quickly when I realize what I've done. “You sure know a lot about this place for someone who doesn't come to the Strip much.”

He shrugs. “Frankie.”

“Hey, you guys!” Lo yells as soon as she sees us. She leaves the table and runs up, throwing her arms around my neck. “We're hanging out at a bar! In Las Vegas! For spring break! With a band! And a girl with tons of hookups! I feel like I'm in the best movie ever!”

I untangle myself from her arms. “Someone's been hitting the bottle.”

“Frankie's bartender friend bought us all shots! Can you believe that? I took a shot, Hannah!” Lo drinks at the parties we go to at home, but it's always warm keg beer, a wine cooler, or some sort of mixed concoction. I go immediately into Mom mode, which is my normal role with Lo in social situations. “What did you take a shot of?” Like I know the difference between alcohols. “Did you have one right now? What else are you drinking?”

“Take it easy, control freak.” She pulls me toward the group by the hem of my shirt. Nick is there already, greeting everyone. “I want to hear what happened at the top of the Eiffel Tower, you sneaky girl. And I need to tell you what happened while you were gone.”

I lean into her ear to share some part of our moment from the top of Las Vegas with her. But when I lean forward, I focus on Nick. Frankie jumps up and down when she sees him, and she stands on her tiptoes, throws her arms tightly around his neck, and kisses him.

“Ew,” Lo says.

I turn around before I have to see any more. “I can't,” I spit out. “I can't do this. Come with me.”

I wave to everyone crowded around the table, but I notice Frankie is still wrapped around Nick's waist. “Lo and I are going to run upstairs to the room to get my hoodie. Grace, do you need anything from the room?”

The look on Grace's face tells me the only thing she needs is Alex's tongue down her throat, so I grab Lo's arm and pull her through the casino toward the elevators, as far away from Nick and Frankie as my legs will take me.

 

CHAPTER

21

“So, what happened?” Lo asks as soon as the elevator doors slide shut. “Did you guys make out or what?”

“He has a girlfriend. That fact didn't change in the hour we were gone.”

“Did he tell you why he lied about her?”

“Kinda. But we didn't get a chance to talk about—”

“Were you too busy drooling all over each other?”

“Do you want me to tell you this story, or do you want to make the whole thing up yourself?” I don't mean to snap at her. I know she's been drinking, and she rarely makes sense after half a cup of whatever her beverage of choice may be. “I'm sorry, I'm just annoyed by this whole situation.”

We arrive on our floor and head to our room, where I fill her in on what happened between me and Nick: wedding crashing, jacket wearing, hand holding, hugging, touching, and all. I dig my hoodie out of my bag and brush my teeth since we're here and I could use some freshening up.

“Wow,” she says. She's bracing herself on the side of the bed like she might slide off, so I pour some water into one of the glasses in the bathroom and bring it to her.

“Drink,” I say.

She chugs the water, but only half the glass makes it into her mouth. The rest dribbles down her chin and pools on the front of her shirt. “It sounds like you guys had a moment.”

“We did. But then you guys texted and we had to leave and meet up with you. I didn't want to. But he didn't seem to care, since he had no problem letting Frankie surgically attach herself to him downstairs.” I sit down next to her, and then collapse flat back onto the bed. “I don't know what to think, Lo. I had so many chances to tell him how I felt and I just couldn't. I'm such a freaking coward.” I let out a dramatic sigh. “He's been my best friend for four years. We talk every day. But it's not the same here. It's like he's the same person, but totally different.”

Lo collapses next to me on the bed. “I know it sucks, and I wish I knew what to tell you. I think he's embarrassed. And confused. We showed up out of the blue, you know? It's a shock. And he seems to be pretty awkward in general.”

“I know.” I curl myself up in a ball. “I want to go back in time so this never happened. Our friendship is never going to be the same after this.”

“Maybe that's a good thing.” Lo starts rubbing my back, which is ironic because
she's
the drunk one. “I know I said you needed to tell him how you feel, but maybe you needed to come here to end this friendship, not take it to the next level. I know you'd never be happy if you were always wondering what-if about Nick. You don't have to wonder what-if anymore. Now you know. He lied to you and he has a girlfriend. You know what-if. Now you can move on.”

Lo's words hurt like blunt force trauma to the head. So much so that I scoot myself away from her hand on my back, but I let what she said turn over in my mind as I lie there.

“Okay,” she says, hopping off the bed. “Put on your hoodie. Let's go.”

“Mnph,” I mumble into the pillow. “Staying here. Giving up on this sucky night.”

“Oh no, you're not.” She pulls at my leg. “Get up right now.”

“What's the point? Nick has a girlfriend.”

“So you're just going to let Frankie win? Just like that? Because she has a huge rack and knows some loser roadies from the Killers and gets free cheesecake? Please. Get off your ass right now and do something about this, or I'm going to go down there and do it for you.”

I roll over. “What am I supposed to do?”

This gets her going. She dances around the room. “Jordy!”

“What about Jordy?”

“Jordy was totally asking about you. Like, a million questions.” She pulls me up to a sitting position. “Of course, I couldn't say you were crazy about Nick or anything. Because of Frankie, you know. I said you were Nick's longtime friend. And you should have heard Frankie singing your praises. She offered you up to him with a cherry on top.”

“Nice.” I don't know what is stranger about this story, Player Jordy showing interest in plain old me, or Frankie, girlfriend of the guy I'm in love with, trying to help me hook up. It's like I came down from the fake Eiffel Tower into Opposite Day.

“She feels bad you're the odd girl out. She wants to get you a man. I think it's sweet.”

I narrow my eyes at her in a
Whose side are you on, anyway?
look, but she ignores it.

“So what I'm saying is, get over your emo and do something about this crappy situation. You have guaranteed booty from Jordy tonight. He's totally hot and I think you should go for it.”

“I don't want Nick to think—” I'm about to say I don't want Nick to think I like Jordy, but does that matter? Nick had no problem letting Frankie kiss him right in front of me after that moment we'd had. Nick had no problem telling me how crazy he is about her. I'd love to give him a taste of how much that sucks.

If he even notices at all.

But, Jordy? “Jordy is nasty,” I say. “Nick told me he hooks up with everyone.”

“I know he has a reputation, but you don't have to do anything with him, Hannah. Just get down there and get your flirt on. He's hot. Have fun. Forget about Nick and remember you're a high school senior on spring break. You have a fake ID and a bartender pouring you drinks and a gorgeous guy who's the lead singer in a band you love flirting with you. You're making another hot guy jealous. Do you know how many girls would kill for this? Get up and enjoy yourself before I beat some fun into you.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek. I did promise her and Grace I'd step out of my comfort zone. If I keep the flirtation innocent, what will it hurt? And there's the bonus of making Nick a little jealous while I'm at it, or at least giving him a taste of his own medicine. I can't deny that the thought of turning the tables on Nick a bit gives me a thrill.

I pull my clown penny out from my pocket, stare at it, then place it on the cabinet next to the TV. “Fine,” I say. “I'll talk to Jordy. But that's it.”

We rejoin the group at the bar, where more glasses have accumulated at the table. Frankie runs up as soon as she sees me and gives me another one of those hugs of hers. “Thanks for smoothing things over with Nick for me when I left earlier.” She's so small, she has to get on her toes to whisper in my ear. I don't think that has ever happened to me before.