Spiral (24 page)

“Can you keep a secret?”

I peer down at Cherie, trying to make out her features in the small light from my window. I can’t tell if she’s joking, but I hope that she is.

“Haven’t I kind of been doing that already?”

“I’m serious!” she giggles. Her smile makes me smile. Behind her mess of wild blond curls, the digital clock reads 3:30.

“What?”

“Swear not to tell.” Her hand absently pets my shoulder, giving me a tame version of chills.

I sigh. “I swear not to tell.”

She giggles again. “Okay, so, I tried E tonight.”

My heart misses about three beats. “What?”

“E. You know, Ecstasy?”

“Cherie, I know what E is,” I huff. “I mean
what
were you
thinking
?”

“My friends were doing it, and they offered it to me. I figured why not?” Her grin grows big. “Oh my God, it was so fun.”

“It’s so stupid, that’s what it is.”

She rolls her eyes and closes them. “Come on, you’re not seriously going to lecture me right now, are you?”

I prop myself up onto my elbow. “It’s not a lecture, it’s a reality check. That’s dangerous stuff, and you shouldn’t be doing it.”

“Don’t act like you’ve never done drugs before.” She narrows her eyes when I shake my head. It seems gleefully shocking to her. “Serious? You’ve seriously never done any drugs before?”

“Nope. We get drug tested for football season. I’m not going to jeopardize my chance at a scholarship for some stupid curiosity.” I feel like an old man as I add, “And you shouldn’t either. You could get in big trouble for that; people are always watching what you do and talking about you. You’ll get arrested or addicted or worse.”

She smiles playfully and rubs my shoulder. “Aw, do you care what happens to me?”

I blush a little but admit, “Yes, I do. You know that already. I wonder all the time if you’re going to make it home or not. The drinking is bad enough, but drugs are a whole other story.”

“Sweetie, save me the D.A.R.E. talk, okay?” she says, squeezing my chin in her hand. “It was just this once, and I’m totally fine. See?”

“Yeah, good for you, but you’re lucky nothing bad happened. A kid at my old school did E once, and it messed him up big time,” I tell her.

“That only happens when you don’t drink water or take too much. Only dumb people overdose, Jack,” she says flipping her hair over her shoulder and across the pillow. “My friends know what they’re doing.”

“You do know that the term ‘intelligent celebrities’ is an oxymoron, right?”

She laughs at this and turns to face me. “You hate that I’m famous, don’t you?”

“No, I hate your famous friends and your stupid entourage who bring you home drunk and feed you drugs.”

“They don’t feed them to me, Jack,” she corrects me, offended. “They ask if I want to try them, and I say whether I do or I don’t. I only try drugs with someone if I trust them.”

“Oh really? Celebrities are trustworthy drug specialists?” I scoff. I can’t believe she’s this dumb sometimes. “I love it. What does Caz say, ‘trust me because I can play a doctor on TV?’”

“Oh, I wasn’t with Caz this time; I was with Carl and Betsy,” she says, as if that’s supposed to make it any better. “And don’t pick on Caz. He’s a not a bad guy.”

I grunt, “Yeah, he’s a real Prince Charming.”

“Oh, my! Someone sounds jealous of Caz,” she sings.

“Did I say that?” I look away, my cheeks stinging from her truth.

“You don’t have to; all guys hate him! Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not,” she laughs. When I won’t look at her, she straddles my stomach. I turn my face, but she pulls it back and makes me meet her eye. “Are you jealous of Caz?”

“I’m not,” I say defiantly. “I think it’s stupid that you are dating a guy who’s so old.”

“I’m not dating him,” she replies with a smug smile. “We are just friends.”

I jerk my face from her hand. “Sure you are.”

She drops her jaw and gawks at me. “You
are
jealous!”

“No, I’m not. Get off of me please,” I push gently at her knees, but she won’t budge, tightening her grip around my sides. Her hands rest on top of my chest, sending warmth through my skin.

Her face is serious all of a sudden. “Jack, you don’t really think he and I are dating, do you?”

“Does it matter what I think?”

Cherie’s eyebrows knit together as if she isn’t sure. “But why do you think that?”

“It’s all over the news, Cherie,” I say stiffly, turning my eyes away again. It’s hard to look up at her when she’s on top of me like this. It makes my mind swirl with a thousand different scenarios I’d rather have happening right now than a conversation about Caz.

“Aunt Eva told you not to pay attention to that stuff, remember?” she says. She looks disappointed in me.

“I don’t. People at school ask me about you,” I mutter in my own defense. She dismounts and plants herself beside me, her legs folding underneath her body.

“Really?” This news sounds more exhilarating to her. “Kids ask you about me? What do they say?”

“Did you think you weren’t relevant anymore or something?” I joke, shaking my head. “They ask if you guys are dating, they ask if we’re dating – ”

“They ask about you and me?” Now she looks nervous. “What do you say?”

I shrug and explain, “That it’s a rumor the magazines made up, and you just live with my family.”

“Oh.” Is that satisfaction I see or disappointment? I can’t tell, and before I can ask, she says, “Good. Keep saying that.”

It’s my turn to be offended. “It’s the truth; you’re not my girlfriend.”

“Well, I’m not Caz’s girlfriend, either.”

“Then why do you hang out with him so much?” I pry, knowing I’m asking more than I should, and possibly asking for more information than I want to know.

She shrugs. “The producers of ‘Sunny’ think it will be good for the movie if we are seen together a lot, so we get together sometimes. Keeps people guessing.”

The celebrity world perplexes me more every day. “The producers for your movie make you stage a relationship? To make people
think
you’re dating? Why can’t you tell everyone it’s not true?”

“I do, Jack,” she says. “I tell them we are just friends. No one believes me because it’s more fun to believe the rumor. Isn’t it more scandalous to think a sixteen year old girl would have some twenty-something year old heartthrob wrapped around her finger?”

She adds with a wink, “It’s even more scandalous if they can make a love triangle out of it by throwing you in there and saying we are dating, too. Clearly, that’s not true, right?”

Her explanation makes sense, and it even burns a little. I’m still unconvinced about Caz, though. She’s a pro at lying, and I feel almost like I’m the newest victim of her believe-me smile. “Do you like Caz?”

She shrugs. “Not particularly. He’s a little shallow. He has jerky friends, and he gets nasty when he’s around them.”

I laugh out loud. “He sounds perfect for you.”

Cherie gawks. “How dare you!” She digs her fingers into my side to tickle me, but I’m quick to grab her hands and hold them hostage. She squeals and squirms to free herself, but I twist my upper body and pin her arms beneath me.

“Watch it. My mom’s not here to save you this time,” I warn.

“You wouldn’t do anything to me,” she taunts, struggling to free herself.

“Not true.”

She lifts her chin and says breathlessly, “Then do something.” I smell booze and smoke and trouble.

Once more, her lips are too close to mine; my heart stills as if it’s afraid to beat, and I can’t inhale or exhale. I’ve never been locked in that awkward moment between play and intimacy with her before, and it scares me how easily I could seize the opportunity to make a move. That dark look flashes through her eyes again, and I’m dangerously close to doing something that could get me slapped again. Or maybe she wants me to, I can’t tell with her right now. Is she tempting me on purpose? Is it the ecstasy talking? Does she have any idea what she is doing to my brain?

I release her hands and fall back onto the bed. “Nah, it wouldn’t be a fair fight.”

She’s quiet, watching me with those big, green eyes. I swallow hard and look over at the clock, or anywhere that isn’t her face or her body.

“Jesus, it’s late,” I mutter.

“Yeah,” she whispers.

I don’t want to tell her to leave, but I don’t think I can stay next to her for another minute. “Are you staying here?”

Please say no.

“Just for an hour or so. I try to get in the house before your mom wakes up.” She pauses and blinks at me. “Can I?”

I should say no. I should say no right now.

Say no, stupid!

“If you want.”

She smiles and presses her hands together beneath her cheek instead of curling around my arm or snuggling against me like usual. It’s like she knows my whole body is on fire and she’ll get burned. I turn my face to the ceiling and close my eyes.

“Jack?”

I feel her staring at me and risk looking over. “What?”

“Are you coming to my premier on Monday?” she asks.

“To the movie?” I shrug. “I think so, yeah. I have to, right?”

She scrunches her nose, insulted. “No, you don’t
have
to do anything.”

“I’m kidding. Of course I want to go.”

She smiles and says, “Good. I’d like to have you there.”

I try not to grin on the outside as much as I am grinning on the inside. I watch her watching me for a second, her eyes twinkling. I don’t know if she ever closes those eyes because I have to turn my whole body away from her.

“D
ude, that’s crazy.” Frank’s voice echoes through the bathroom as I finish styling my hair. I wipe my hands on my towel and carry my cellphone back into my bedroom.

“I know, right?” I reply, setting the phone down on the top of my nightstand as I get dressed. “Sick room, huh?”

He laughs, “You’re the luckiest shit I know.” He sighs and is quiet for a moment before asking, “What about Cherie? What’s happening with her?”

I pause and look down at the phone. It’s only been about a week since I last heard from Frank, but it feels like a year’s worth of drama has taken place. It’s too much to tell, and I don’t know how much I really want to tell him anyway. What if he tells someone else, like big-mouthed Josh? I can’t take that kind of a risk.

I finally say, “Nothing’s happening. I never see her around.” I hate lying to my best friend. I’ve been lying to everyone else about her, so it feels natural all the other times, just not with Frank. Lying to Frank makes the secrecy I have to maintain about Cherie awful for reasons I can’t define.

“There was a thing on the news about her partying in clubs and stuff,” he continues. “They say she’s a train wreck waiting to happen.”

Sickness pools in my stomach and I nod absently, knowing full well that those stories are mostly true. They’ve got to be. “Really? What else do they say?”

“Eh, that she’s with that tool, Caz Farrell, all the time, and that she drinks. Don’t you ever pay attention to the internet, man?” My jealousy burns the back of my eyes. “They got all these pictures and videos of her hanging out with some trashy sluts, getting drunk and whatever. My girl showed me one picture of her hanging all over some fat old guy, and she looked bombed.”

Carl, I’m sure. Carl and Betsy, her trusted keepers, are the biggest parts of Cherie’s problem. Carl and Betsy and Danika…a motley crew of bad influences that Cherie needs to lose, fast.

“Hey, you know, it’s not my problem.” Lie number two. It is definitely becoming my problem.

My phone beeps. I won’t deny that my heart flutters a little when I see Cherie’s number pop up on my phone.

“Hey, can you hold on a second? I have another call,” I tell him, and I immediately switch to her call before he can reply. “Hello?”

“Hey! What are you doing today?” she sings on the other end.

I feel ridiculous for smiling at the sound of her voice. “Nothing. Just got back from the gym. You?”

“Well, your family is going to the beach today, and I was thinking of hanging back here at the house. Were you going with them?”

I want to laugh at her and shout,
“No way!”
Instead I just say, “Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Good!” she cries. “Come outside to the pool!”

I hold my head a second and try to steady my thoughts. Cherie wants to hang out with me? Sober? In broad daylight? This has got to be breaking a ground of some sort, right?

“Uh, yeah, sure. Hold on,” I stutter, walking toward the door.

“Well, not yet,” she says. “They haven’t left. Give it, like, half an hour. Okay?”

I stare at the phone. So I can hang out with her, but I can’t hang out with her in front of anyone? Not even our family?

“Jack, are you there?”

“Yeah, okay,” I reply stiffly. “I gotta go; I have a friend on the other line.” I hang up on her quickly.

“Frank?” There’s no answer. “Frank?”

He’s already hung up.