Sister Pact (11 page)

By the time we leave the bathroom, the number of people in the restaurant and the level of noise has tripled. The place is hopping, but thanks to the weed, I'm feeling all warm and fuzzy. And hungry. Really hungry.

We make it back to the baseball players' table, and Nick opens his arm for me to crawl in.

“Hey, thought I lost you.” He nibbles on my neck. My skin hums. I lean in closer to him, wanting a little more. His breath is a warm wind on my neck.

“I'm starving.” I try not to laugh, but everything seems so funny and good now, and maybe I can relax a little.

Cassie grabs a fry off Billy's plate, teasing him with it, and he wraps himself around her so there's no space between them. Her pupils are so big, they're almost completely black. I look in them. Starstruck again.

“Perfect timing,” Nick says as a waitress comes bearing our pizza like a prize.

The pizza tastes better than anything I've ever tasted before. It's warm and cheesy and salty. Just plain delicious. I try to eat dainty and cute, like you're supposed to on a date, but my stomach is growling, and I have to almost sit on my hands to keep from shoving it in as fast as I can.

Nick gets up to fill our sodas. I smile at him. Because at this point, I'm actually having a good time.

Then Max and Tracy walk in. His arm is draped around her, and she looks like she's showing off a new pet. My stomach drops. He slaps hands with some of the other swimmers. My heart drops.

Nick may be a cool artist. He may be an okay baseball player. He could be Picasso or Monet or Andy Warhol for that matter, and it still wouldn't matter. Because he's not Max.

Nick returns and puts the sodas on the table and winds his arm around me, pulling me close. I feel his body, tight and fit, and try to pretend it's broad and hard like Max's.
Anybody would be happy to be dating Nick Larsons.
That's my new mantra, and I swear that I'm a believer. With the right kind of drugs or drink, I could make this work. People will see us together and know I'm not broken.

I turn to Nick, paste a huge smile on my face, and lean my body against his. His smile lets me know he's buying it. I give him my attention and the best mood I can fake. Chemical-induced happy is better than no happy at all.

“Hey, wanna go somewhere else?” Nick smells like black licorice and spearmint: yummy and cool. He puts his drink down, pulls my hair back, and his lips brush my neck, waking my skin.

“Sure.”

“I'll be right back. Just gotta make a pit stop.” He kisses me long and sweet like a promise of things to come.

“Okay.”

“I like Nick.” Leah pops up across from me, blocking my view of Max. “He's cute even if he is wound way too tight. Maybe it's the baseball pants.”

I want to tell her she has to leave. I want to tell her to get out of my head, but I can't. Not in front of everyone. Instead, I take a drink of my Coke and try to ignore her.

She leans forward. “By the way, you're doing very well with Max too. He can't stop looking at you.”

I sputter on my Coke, sending a spray out of my mouth.

“You okay?” Cassie comes around to pat me on the back, leaving my view of Max completely unobstructed. He's laughing with his friends. Tracy heads toward the bathroom.

Max catches me looking at him and stands, obviously taking this as a signal to come over.

“Uh-oh, here comes trouble,” Leah says.

I didn't need her warning. I saw this one a mile away. With Tracy out of the way, he has room for me. I feel bruised. All over. The pain is so severe, I consider taking that little green pill.

I feel Max's arm go around me, his touch unleashing a tsunami of emotion. My body wants to reach for his, but I know I can't. Even if we were here alone, he wouldn't choose me—not only me. “You having a good time?” he asks.

I shrug out from under his arm. “Yeah.”

“Hey.” He looks right into me, like he can see all my bad parts and doesn't care. His voice is low and shaky. I've gotten to him. He puts his hand on my arm. “We okay?” he asks.

“Sure.” I look into his eyes, and I wish he would take my face into his hands and tell me he wants me again. Just me. But he's here with Tracy. I'm with Nick.

“I'm sorry. About…you know…”

“Me too. Pep rally wasn't the best idea.”

He pulls me to him and kisses me on the top of my head. “Next time, I'll skip with you, okay?” Lie.

“Sure.”

Tracy stops before going into the bathroom. Shoots us a look. Max follows my gaze and waves at her, giving her a wide smile that makes me feel like I could die. “Tracy's okay, you know, for a little fun?”

I want to scream at him. Fun? That's what this is all about?

He grabs my hand. “You know I love you. It's different between us.”

I pull away. His eyes narrow. He's used to having it both ways. Max and his
one day we'll be together
crap. Not this day though. Today, he's with Tracy Summers. Because she's fun. I don't know what I see in him. Max is being a colossal jerk.

“Nick's coming. I've gotta go.” I collect my things, my hair falling over my face.

“Don't be like that.” He reaches for me. I evade his grasp. “You know how I feel about you.”

“It's not fatal,” I say as I brush by him.

I almost run smack into Nick on my way out. His gaze locks on Max. He knows Max got me riled up. Grabbing Nick by the neck, I pull him to me. My mouth opens, inviting him in. His urgency is the only thing I pay attention to.

“Let's get out of here,” I whisper, needing to drown out the sad that starts in my heart and bleeds into my veins.

“You got it.” Nick's voice is low and tight.

On our way out, I throw Leah an evil look. A stay-away-from-me-or-else death stare. I hope she listens. Because the last thing I need from her is advice on this next part.

• • •

Back Lake Park. At night. Cars are parked like islands in the dark. We take our place as Nick nudges the car into an abandoned corner. I want to get out and drink in the crisp air. But that's not what we came for. It's time for me to pay my bill. I may as well do this.

Nick reaches behind his seat and pulls out a bottle. Peach schnapps. He opens the cap and offers it to me. I take a swig. The first taste burns the back of my throat. But the next one goes down easy. I try to hand it back, but he waves it off. A few more and I'm good, all loose body and no mind, just the way I want to be.

“You're so pretty.” He leans across the console and rubs up and down my arms, making me feel like I want to jump out of my skin.

The first kiss is soft, and I can tell he's holding back a little. I reach for him with my mouth, force him to kiss me the way I know he wants to. I hear him ache for me. And at this moment, my mind woozy from the pot and the drink, I want to give it to him. Even though he's not who I want, I do want him. At this moment.

“Allie, are you sure?”

I take his face in my hands, look into his not-blue eyes—and the wrong color makes me pause for a second.
Maybe I'll change my mind. Tell him no and we'll go home. I don't have to do this.
But I remember Max. He didn't choose me. Nick did. Does. All I have to do is choose him back and I can have him. Right now. Should I? Is that what I want?

I nod, a huge smile spreading across my face. I want him to know I'm his. Right now. I want to be with him. I want to see what that does for him. I want to hear him want me, see it painted on his face. I want to know I'm the one he wants to be with.

He looks from my face, down my body, and back to my face. He smiles and pulls me to him, kissing me fiercely. My heart beats fast, and my body burns for him.

Nick pushes me backward, and I'm pressed against the door. His body leans against mine, his purpose clear. But it's okay. At this moment, I want Nick Larsons. His desire for me fills me, and I reach for him, my body matching every bit of heat he sends me. Every bit.

He pulls up my shirt. I unhook my bra. And it's good. I hear myself groaning. So I know it's good. I see his face, totally caught up in me. Me. I am everything he wants. Right now. I am it.

My skirt is down. I grab for his pants. I unzip them and reach in for him. My hand closes around the proof. He wants me. Really wants me.

“Allie, you're so hot,” he whispers in my ear.

I push him away for a second.

“Hey,” he whines. I sort of love that. I love the power I have over him right now. I am the queen of right now. Feeling for the first time in a really long time that I matter. That I'm enough. That I'm perfect—for Nick. At this moment.

“Did you bring anything?” I ask.

He fumbles for his jeans, his fingers clawing the pocket, and he pulls out a condom. It takes him a minute to open it. I hear the wrapper rip.

He suits up and pushes me back. Once he's inside, it doesn't take long. He doesn't have much more. I can't say I'm not disappointed. I wanted my reign to last longer than this.

“Sorry,” he mutters into my hair, all tamed and happy.

“It's okay. It's fine.” I'm really thinking Leah would get more. And I'm upset because I'm no longer out of my head. I'm all the way in it, wondering about Max. And Tracy. And the sad that I kept at bay as long as Nick was into me creeps back in like a mist.

“You sure?”

“I just...I need to get home.” I hold up my phone, show him the face: 11:58.

“Oh, crap! It's late.” He pulls on his jeans, tucks in his shirt, wipes the grin off his face in record time. I match his speed with my own. We pull into my driveway at 12:06.

“I had a great time tonight.” Nick kisses me one last time. But it's not like before. He's had what he wanted; now he's over it. And I wonder, by giving him what he wanted, have I made him want me less? I get all panicky about that thought. Even though I didn't start out wanting Nick, I don't want him to end up not wanting me. God, I'm crazy. More than seeing my sister's ghost crazy. Worse than that, I'm twisted.

“Allie?”

“Yeah, me too,” I manage. “Good night.”

“You want me to walk you in?” He goes to get out of the car, but I wave him off.

It's getting harder and harder to smile at him. “I'm good.” I head for the house. Part of me is angry. Really angry. And I know I don't have a reason to be. I made the choice. I did. Still, part of me blames him. For all of it. Because he couldn't keep the pain away more than a few minutes. Aren't I worth more than that?

I try not to shake as I walk in the door. But it's hard, because I gave myself away for so little. I let Nick have it all, and he didn't have the decency to last. God, I hate myself.

I can't make the water hot enough. Or strong enough. Eventually, I give up and get out. Wrapped in a towel, combing my hair, I look in the mirror. I figure the devils be damned, let them come. I'm ready.

Leah appears behind me and starts rubbing my shoulders. I put my head in my hands and cry.

“It's okay, Allie. It's going to be okay.”

“What am I going to do?”

Leah grabs a brush and starts working it through my hair. “You gotta get all the knots out,” she says.

It feels so good to have her take care of me. Each stroke reminds me that I'm worthy. That she loves me. That I'm not disposable.

“Of course you're not. Don't be ridiculous, Allie. But honestly, it was your choice. And why the hell not get you some fun. Guys do it all the time.”

She's right. It was my choice. So why do I feel so bad about it now? My teeth chatter. Leah appears with my fluffy, white bathrobe, wrapping me up. She takes my hand and leads me out of the bathroom. Sophie comes out of Mom's bedroom, her eyes squinty because we woke her.

“You wanna go in my room?” Leah asks.

I should say no. But I'm tired. “Yeah.”

Leah props the pillows for me. I lay back.

“I just want something to matter, you know?”

It feels stupid to tell Leah these things. I worry she'll shoot me down, call me a dork, but she doesn't. She just holds my hand.

“I just think…” Tears fill my mouth. “That it should mean something. Maybe not everything. But something.”

“So why'd you do it? Why'd you let him?”

Her question surprises me. I know she thinks I should be more casual about this stuff. Like she was. She never got weepy about guys. Leah was legendary.

Until she killed herself.

I put my arms over my head. “I don't know. It got confusing. I like Nick. I do. He's just not…”

“You have to get over Max. Maybe one day you two can be together. But not now. He's kind of a jerk now. No matter how you feel about him.”

“You think that's why he doesn't want me? Because he wants to be a jerk? To be with every single girl he sees?”

“You're obsessed with the word ‘why.' You need to stop. Why doesn't matter. It just is. Or isn't.”

Sophie jumps up, climbs between us, and puts her head on my leg. I reach down, and she licks my hand. Tears course down my cheeks.

“It's not like Dad,” she says. “I know you think that, but it's not.”

“I want Max. He wants everyone else but me. Just like Mom and Dad. Only in this scenario, Nick wants me. It's algebra. Does that make me
x
—the thing to solve for?”

“Who knew your
cat
could be so mathy?” Leah's eyes point to my nether regions.

I laugh, then settle deeper in the pillows. “I hate that he's with her.”

“We talking Max or Dad this time?”

“Both. I mean, I can't believe he left us for her. She's only five years older than you. Did you know that?”

Leah sighs. “Yes.”

I sit up. “Is that why?”

She puts her hand on my arm. “No.”

“It has to be. It's his fault, isn't it?”

“It's nobody's fault. Or it's just mine.” She turns away.

I think about pressing her, but I know she won't budge. When Leah clams up, she's done. End of story. Like Dad. There's no moving her. Even though my head is screaming for more information. I relent and lie back down.

Leah rolls over onto her side, facing me, her head propped in her elbow. “Sometimes I pretend none of it happened. Sometimes I pretend I'm still here. You know? That I didn't take those pills or drink that wine.”

“I pretend that all the time. I pretend you're still here. You know, full-time. Like before. When you were—”

“Real.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.” She flops back. “But maybe I was never real. To Dad, I wasn't. Obviously. God, I'm so stupid. I actually thought he gave us those phones as a way to stay connected with him. If we needed him.”

And I hate him. I don't know what happened the night Leah killed herself. Maybe I don't need to know. But I hate him. Full-on.

“You were more than real to me. You still are.”

She laughs. “My baby sister. Starstruck as usual.”

I look straight into her dark eyes, the chocolate brown I've always wanted, not just because they were prettier than mine were but also because they could hide secrets better than mine could.

“I know you don't want to talk about this, Leah, but I wish I knew—”

“It won't change anything.”

“I know. But it would help. Knowing—”

“It wasn't his fault. I made so many mistakes, and I didn't know how to fix them. I wasn't strong like you are. You've always been much more solid than I am.”

Her confession startles me. I'm not more solid. Just more obedient.

“I couldn't let you find out how fucked up I was.”

I flash back to the night of the party. Her friends Brittney, Sean, Vanessa. Feral people. Something happened that night. Obviously. But what?

“Leah, where were you that night? Where did you go?”

“It's not important.”

“Sean was looking for you. He was mad and couldn't find you. Even Jason helped look.”

“Sean's not as great as he thinks. He didn't mean that much to me. I was done with him before that party. Well before. It just made it easier…to be all the way done. With him.”

“I don't understand…”

She stands and leaves the room. When she comes back, she hands me the bottle of Delsym. “Shhhh, you should go to sleep. Just a little. It'll help you drift off. We gotta keep you moving. This is a very important year,” she says, faking Dad's intonation and voice. I smirk. Then take it from her. She nods with encouragement. I take a drink and hand it back to her.

“I'll stay till you fall asleep. I'll watch over you.”

I look at her ceiling. It's painted white with silver sparkles mixed in. When you look at it, it's like looking at the stars.

“I'm just so tired,” I say.

“You need to rest,” she says.

Maybe Leah's right.

“You need to get back to making art,” Leah adds. “That's how both of us get to stay.”

I think about how amazing it used to feel when I worked on a painting. Like the whole world faded away. I miss that. She's right. But I can't help feeling like maybe I can get there on my own again. Maybe I can find my colors. Mine. Not Leah's. But I'm not sure what that means for my sister. I feel responsible for her. Like she was for me all those years. When I was tagalong. I close my eyes and hope tomorrow will be better than today. I can hope, can't I?