Painting Sky (24 page)

“She sure does, and apparently so do you.” He pulled me away from a couple of drunk guys who were dancing around, while Tony tried to decide what Keith was to me. I was shocked by his words.

“I do not,” I said, appalled by his bluntness.

He shook his head. “Not me, him.” He nodded at Tony, who was deciding if I was good enough for him to stick around and defy Keith. I guess I wasn’t, because he turned and went back to his table.

I set my face so Keith wouldn’t see the hurt. I couldn’t have cared less about Tony, but knowing I wasn’t good enough for somebody so soon after being with Cody still stung.

Keith grabbed me, digging his fingers into my arm, and pulled me to the side, looking for someone. I guess he wasn’t just taking me home: perhaps he would use this opportunity to hook up with Shelby. At least it was payment for coming to get me.

“Let me go. If you want to leave with Shelby, do as you please, but let me have fun with my friends.”

He released me, which made me lose my balance momentarily, and then he crossed his arms over his chest.

“What friends?” he spat, nodding at the two guys we’d met tonight, who were already cozying up with two other girls. Okay, maybe Tony wasn’t that good of a guy.

“I’ll make new ones,” I said, spiteful. It sounded more like whining. Keith shook his head and his expression softened slightly.

“Keith!” Shelby came barging through the crowd and jumped right into Keith’s arms. Maybe she was as drunk as me. He didn’t shove her back, but gently set her on her feet.

“Let’s go.” He grabbed both of our arms and dragged us to the street, nodding to the bouncer and yelling through the line.

“Garett, if you ever let these two inside without me present, I’ll tell your boss you’re letting underage girls into the bar.”

The guy, who seemed like a beast to me, just nodded, ashamed, and turned to the next customer in line. He asked, rudely, for the girl’s ID.

“Oh, you come here often? I asked Jane to invite you earlier, but she didn’t want to, so I sent you a text. Did you like my text, Keith?” Shelby shoved me to the side so she could sit shotgun and cozy up with Keith, who groaned while covering his eyes.

“So it was you. I should’ve guessed,” he mumbled. He started driving to her dorm. My eyebrows shot up: he was taking Shelby home? That was a surprise. I’d thought he would take us both to his house.

I guess he was the kind of guy who didn’t take advantage of drunk girls. He had slept with Shelby at the Halloween party, though, when she was drunk. He’d kissed me while I was drunk, too.

After helping Shelby up the stairs, he got back inside the car and turned it around.

“Are you okay, there? If you need to throw up, ask me, or I’ll make you clean it up tomorrow.” He started the car. I waited for him to peek in the rearview mirror so I could flip him the finger. Who did he think he was, my father?

Keith parked the car in front of the house, but didn’t get out right away. I stayed behind, too. I was too comfortable, lying in the backseat, to get up any time soon. He picked up his cell from the back pocket and dialed a number.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’ve got your sister.”

He called Ryan? How immature was that? I shot up and glared at him through the rearview mirror and he mocked me. “She’s okay—a bit drunk, but everything’s fine. Sure. See you tomorrow.”

Without another word, he got out and slammed the door, startling me, and then came to help me out. I shoved his hands away.

“Calling Ryan? Really?” I glared again, but it didn’t have the desired effect, as I stumbled on the gravel and fell over his arms.

“He was worried. He tried to call you, but you didn’t answer. When you sent me that text, I knew something was wrong.”

When I got my full bodily functions back, I would check my texts to see what Shelby had written. It must’ve been pretty forward for Keith to think it was strange.

I said multiple times during our long walk to my room that I was fine by myself, but he ignored me until I had my pajamas in hand. Then he left, claiming that he was getting something to prevent my hangover the next day.

I realized I was still very drunk when I tried to get up from my seated position on the bed to go to the bathroom.

“You okay?” Keith placed the glass of water and the pill on the desk to help me up. “Why the hell did you go out to get drunk?” he asked, exasperated, while I jumped forward to get to the toilet and throw up again. This time, I didn’t have much in my stomach, so it just hurt my throat. “Exactly my point. If you wanted to get drunk, you should’ve asked me. I know how to properly get you drunk without the sick part.”

“Well, last time didn’t go so well, did it?” I shot up, stumbling again against him, as I tried to brush my teeth by myself.

“What do you mean?” Keith asked, leaning against the door.

I took my time brushing every corner of my mouth, while searching my brain for an answer and avoiding his stare in the mirror.

I dried my hands on the towel, shrugging. “You know, I was hungover the next day, too.”

“You didn’t throw up, though. I don’t think that’s what you meant when you spoke a few minutes ago, anyway.” He stepped forward to help me to my room.

“I did.” I raised my chin petulantly at his attempt to call me out. “You’re the one who doesn’t remember.” I taunted, giggling. I could play this game. As soon as I saw the confusion and panicked look on his face, I changed my mind. He didn’t deserve that. Even if he was a pain in my butt, he kind of had gone looking for me tonight. I wasn’t convinced that Tony had the best intentions, anyway.

“I liked being drunk with you better,” I mumbled, before falling asleep almost instantly.

O
f course, I had to wake up with a raging headache and an unsettled stomach. The smell downstairs was making me nauseated, so I decided to find out if Keith was trying to punish me or if Cody or Ryan had come home.

Lucky for me, all three guys sat at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and eating Keith’s pancakes—he was the only one who knew how to make them, so I assumed they were his.

“Morning,” I mumbled, annoyed that they had to be here, in the front row to my humiliating moment.

“Coffee, sis?” Ryan pulled the stool out for me and got a mug to pour my coffee. People say coffee helps with hangovers—I just hoped it was true.

“You went out yesterday?” Cody asked, annoyed, as if he had any right to ask for explanations, especially after his week of absence.

“Shut it, Hale. I’m the only one here who can be mad,” Ryan intervened, looking behind his shoulder to warn Cody to keep quiet.

“Don’t fight because of me.” I cradled my head in my hands. “I went out with my friends. I still have a life, you know.” I peeked between my fingers to see the hurt in Cody’s eyes and pushed the guilt away. He was the one who’d cheated.

“So, Jane, are you going home for Thanksgiving?” Ryan asked, sitting next to me and trying to block me from Cody’s stare.

“Yes, aren’t you?” I looked up at my brother. My mother had always complained that he never visited, anymore. He looked away and shrugged.

“I don’t think so. I have a couple of jobs on those days.”

“Jobs? Ryan Keaton, if you get in trouble with hacking again, Dad won’t be around to bail you out.” My head throbbed and I regretted raising my voice.

“All legit, sis, don’t worry. I don’t want to see a cell anytime soon.”

I doubted “legit” meant the same thing to both of us, but he was old enough to know what he was doing. I shouldn’t have worried—but that was me, plain Jane, worrying about everyone, before herself.

“You can’t go home alone, though. Are you going, Cody?” Ryan asked, and my heart skipped a beat. I didn’t want to spend a minute alone with Cody, much less several hours. But, of course, Cody had somewhere to be. He looked like he was making an effort to search for a way of postponing whatever he would be doing, but, after a minute of deep thought, he dropped his head and shook it.

“Sorry, I have a huge assignment for the next Monday. I really can’t.”

He shouldn’t have looked so pained. I wasn’t sure I would have gone with him, even if he had been able to.

“You can’t drive by yourself,” Ryan stated, as if it was his decision to make.

I rolled my eyes, which made me wince. “You’re not Dad, remember that. I can always go by train or bus.”

He was already shaking his head and Keith groaned beside me. He was the one to state what they were all thinking. “It’s too dangerous. If Cody isn’t going, you can’t, either.”

He had been so supportive these last few days about me and Cody. He knew how upset I was, so how could he say something like that? He was less entitled to an opinion than Ryan was, and I told him that.

Cody started arguing that Keith had nothing to do with the conversation, Keith answered him by swearing, and Ryan tried to make them both shut up. I slipped away from the kitchen and went to lie down for the rest of the morning.

The next few days went by quickly and I hadn’t found a way of going home without upsetting Ryan, Keith, apparently, and my parents, who were also apprehensive of my choice of transportation.

I wanted to drive, but the bus was much easier and safer, even with Ryan mentioning murders and rapes at every waking moment of the day. He even searched for news on the internet to show me how irresponsible I was being.

Shelby had gone home earlier that week, missing the last couple of days of school because her parents had a huge anniversary party she had to attend. I actually missed her for those two days, and, on the evening of the last day of school, I found myself panicking, because I had no transportation for getting home. Ryan had actually managed to spook me about the public transportation and refused to lend me his car.

My father called to ask about the trip and I had to let him know that, if Ryan wouldn’t lend me his car, I couldn’t go. Of course, my father had to bring Cody into the conversation. He got even more upset at my refusal to tell him why we weren’t going home together.

“He has to study, Dad. No, he can’t get the day off.” I rolled my eyes and went to the kitchen to start dinner, while putting my father on speaker.

“What’s going to be ton—”

I jumped back and waved my arms at Keith, who was strolling in the kitchen, still towel-drying his hair. I looked like a maniac, pointing to my phone and making gestures for him to be quiet.

There was a strained silence, and then my father asked, “Who was that, Jane?” His strained voice met the quiet kitchen.

I slumped my shoulders, feeling defeated, already. “It’s just Keith, Dad. He lives here, you know.”

“You said you never see him. I thought you two didn’t talk?” He was using his don’t-mess-with-me voice, now.

Keith leaned on the counter, frowning at the phone, as if he could shoot my father through it.

“We don’t, Dad, but he still lives here.” I put the pasta in the boiling water.

“Jane, he’s not a suitable person for you to deal with. I already told you to stay away from him. I was against these living arrangements, but—”

I jumped back and tried to retrieve the phone from the counter to prevent Keith from hearing these ramblings, but Keith stepped in from of me with one hand over my waist to keep me from getting closer. If I said something to him, my father would hear on the other side, so I kept making faces and gestures to threaten him to let me go. He didn’t need to hear this.

“I hear Carl talk all the time,” my father kept going, and I struggled harder, warning Keith that this wasn’t funny. “He’s a bad seed, Jane—not good company to have. I’ll tell you this: if he lays a hand on you, I swear to God, he’s—”

“Stop, Dad,” I almost yelled. “You’re being irrational, now. Keith has never made me feel unsafe. You’re making him look like a monster. Don’t talk about what you don’t know.”

My father wasn’t used to me stepping up and confronting him, so the kitchen was silent again for what seemed an eternity, before he continued. “See? He’s already making you a rebel. Jane Keaton, we’ll be having a little talk when you’re home, be sure of that. We are paying that punk rent for you. If you’re not safe there, you’ll be moving to a dorm, do you hear me?”

Keith finally let me go and I jumped to get the phone, but I pushed it away instead, and it fell to the floor, separating the battery from the phone. I hung up on my father. When I’d ended the call, I managed to shut off my phone, too. I could blame the battery, which would give me a couple of minutes before I needed to redial.

“‘Punk,’ really?” Keith tried to downplay the situation, but I’d seen the pain that he almost immediately covered up. He wasn’t immune to what other people thought, no matter how much he tried to make everyone believe it.

“He doesn’t know you. You haven’t been home in three years, so he doesn’t even know how you look, anymore.”

Which wasn’t a good thing: he looked more like a punk now, with all the tattoos and piercings, than he had three years ago. “I came down here to suggest something, but now I don’t think it’s a good idea, anymore.” He nodded to the phone in my hands.

I looked confused and my face showed it. I took the pasta from the boiling water before it became inedible, and set it on the counter, turning to face Keith.