The Queen of Bright and Shiny Things (17 page)

Just past seven thirty, Lila pulls up in the promised golf cart. I laugh when I see it because the thing is totally decked out with running lights. It looks like somebody featured it on an episode of
Pimp My Ride
. Aunt Gabby stares out the window, eyes wide.

“Are you two kidding me with this?”

“How did you think I was getting there?”

“Eh. I figured you probably caved on the car thing.”

I shake my fist, making a supervillain face. “Never!”

Then I shrug into my vintage faux-leather jacket. It has a nicely grungy look to it and a vaguely military air. Overall, I look pretty good, so I’m feeling confident as I peck my aunt on the cheek, grab my bag, and run out to join Lila before she reconsiders this idea.

“How many people honked at you on the way over here?” I ask, climbing in.

“Six.”

“Seriously?” I want to ask if it bothers her, but she’s grinning, so that would be a no.

“Yep. But this thing’s fun to drive. I kick it up to the highest setting and it gets pretty close to thirty miles an hour.” I have no idea if that’s fast, and I guess she can tell. “Normal ones do fifteen.”

I wave to my aunt as we pull away. Lila is careful to take back roads as we leave the subdivision and head out into the country. A few cars honk at us as they pass, but since the drivers are smiling and waving, it doesn’t seem like a big deal. The cops might be less amused, but the farther we get from town, the less likely it is anyone will bother us. Since the golf cart is open, it’s cold as hell, but worth it when the alternative is riding in a car. It takes about half an hour to get to the Barn, and by that time, it’s pretty late. There’s a fire crackling away, sending orange sparks up toward the dark sky. I’m glad to see it, as I wish I’d worn a scarf and gloves. Beyond, there are a bunch of cars parked in the field. Lila picks a spot where she’s not likely to be blocked in. Somebody must be in charge of the music because it’s blasting from one of the trucks.

“This is it,” she says. “Impressive enough for you?”

“I guess.” I hop out of the golf cart, ready to be amazed.

“Let me give you the grand tour. Here, we have the social types.” Lila gestures.

The ones she indicates are clustered around the fire while others run around. By the stumbling, it seems like they’re already pretty wasted. I follow Lila across the uneven ground, glad I opted for boots instead of Chucks. She points at the drunken game of tag.

“Those are the hard-core drinkers. They were probably toasted
before
they got here.”

“Note to self—avoid the pro drinkers to keep them from hurling on me.”

Lila grins at me. “In some cases, you’ll have to be quick. That guy’s kind of a ninja barfer.”

“Why, God, why?” I mumble.

“Hey, you wanted to come.”

I answer her smile with a smirk. “I feel like Jane Goodall, studying apes in the wild.”

“Take good notes. Maybe you can publish your findings later.” She continues by pointing at the open barn doors. “Inside, you’ll find couples doing things they should reserve for seedy hotel rooms and the backseats of cars. Beware the hayloft.”

“Do you
know
how scratchy hay actually is?”

“Not firsthand. But I’m not the kind to put out in a barn, regardless of what Dylan says.”

I touch her shoulder lightly. “He’s an asshole. Let’s go see who’s here.”

She ignores the kegs and the coolers full of beer. Luckily I spot some Cokes mixed in with the Budweiser and grab two of them for us. I’d prefer hot chocolate or tea, but this is strictly low-rent. A few people have brought bags of marshmallows and packs of hot dogs. I take the former from a guy who might be in my chemistry class. Because I have nothing better to do, I focus on toasting my marshmallow to the perfect shade of light brown. This feat requires absolute patience.

I’m about to eat the perfect marshmallow when Dylan Smith says, “Wow. I can’t believe you have the nerve to show up here, Lila.”

In the flickering firelight, her face is pale and tense. Given how much he hates her for breaking up with him, there’s no way this doesn’t get ugly.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“You need to leave her alone,” I say quietly.

Dylan doesn’t even notice when I join them; he’s too focused on Lila to see anything else. She wasn’t kidding when she said he was abnormal about their breakup. It’s like he can’t accept that anyone would leave him. I’m unsure if that makes him conceited or insane.

“Fuck off, you fat bitch. This doesn’t concern you.”

The people in our immediate area quiet, not wanting to miss a minute of this. But there’s no way I’m letting this go further. He has no right to screw with Lila when we’re here like everyone else, hanging out on a Saturday night. Dylan Smith has been making Lila’s life hell since she had the nerve to dump his loser ass, but she’s my friend, and I’m not having it. I grab Dylan’s arm.

“Actually it does. Come on.” Shadow Sage surges to the front of my brain, all darkness and destruction. She knows exactly how to break this little shit, and for the first time in three years, I’m going to let her.

“Looks like the Princess is hot for you,” one of his friends calls.

“It’s to be expected.” Surprise colors his tone, despite the cocky words, and he follows me more out of curiosity than anything else.

Once I get him away from the others, I drop his arm like it’s a snake about to bite me. “So here’s the deal. You leave Lila alone. You don’t talk to her. You don’t talk
about
her. You don’t look at her. You don’t even think about her. Matter of fact, that goes for all my friends. You and your crew just steer clear from now on, got me?”

“You’re crazy—”

“I’m not.” I cut off his bluster with a hard look. “See, even though you’re a complete dickhead, I suspect you love your mom. Even if she’s banging Principal Warick … the very married Principal Warick. I’m sure you get tired of people telling you what a MILF your mother is. Imagine how much worse it could be, if people found out she’s having an affair—”

“Shut up.” Dylan lunges at me, clamping a hand over my mouth.

There are enough people in view that I’m not worried he’ll do more. If he tries, I’ll show him all the ways I can make him hurt. Because I’m only playing the role of nice girl; I’ve spent a portion of my life as something else entirely.

In a small town like this one, Tamara Smith, the hot school secretary, draws censure for how she dresses, the amount of makeup she wears, and for the way she’d allegedly cheated on her husband—and that’s why he left. Whatever the truth, she’s definitely doing Principal Warick. I’ve seen them kissing, but I never would’ve brought it up if Dylan didn’t made a career of screwing with two people I care about: Lila and Shane.

He applies more pressure, almost enough to bruise my jaw. So I bite him.

Dylan lets go, hate warring with unease in his eyes. He stumbles back a few steps, then he yells to his friends, “These bitches aren’t worth it.”

I take one breath, another, watching him walk away. Time to put the scary back in the box. The athletic crew disappears around the side of the barn, then Lila heads over, looking astonished. “What the hell did you say to him?”

By the time, I turn to face her, I’ve got my mask back in place.

I shrug. “I just made it clear he can’t mess with you anymore.”

“I hope you don’t regret this. Dylan isn’t known for letting shit go.”

“Maybe he’s turning over a new leaf.”

Lila still seems doubtful but I don’t reveal anything. If I tell her, she might repeat it, and then I’ll lose my leverage. My anger at Dylan writhes like a snake twining and tightening around my intestines, but this is where I stop. It takes all my willpower to smile and eat my marshmallow, which has cooled off nicely. The rest of the party is quiet compared to the beginning. I play a game of beer pong, set up on two sawhorses and a plywood board; my team loses, mostly because I suck. After that, Lila and I dance by the bonfire while various guys try to hit on us. That’s … different.

Eventually, I get bored and by that point, Lila’s ready to head out, too. The golf cart is easy to maneuver around the cars, so we set out for my place.

“Is it okay if I stay over?” she asks as we pull up outside my house. The lights are still on in the living room, which means my aunt is probably dozing on the sofa.

“If it’s cool with your mom, I’m sure my aunt won’t mind.”

“I already asked her.” She’s been weird and quiet on the drive home. Now she sounds subdued, like she’s thinking about something else.

I grin. “Glad I could conform to plans you already made.”

As she hops down from the golf cart, she says, “Seriously, Sage, I hope this doesn’t blow back on you. While I appreciate the way you stood up to Dylan for me, I have a bad feeling.”

“Don’t worry about it. Whatever Dylan thinks he can do, I guarantee I’ve been through worse.” I don’t mean to tell her so much, but Lila’s gaze sharpens.

“You never talk about what it was like before you moved here.”

Instead of answering, I dig into my bag for my key, then step inside. Sure enough, my aunt is crashed out on the couch, her head back, while the TV is stalled on the DVD menu. I turn everything off quietly and then kiss my aunt on the head.

“I’m home. Lila’s with me. You can go to bed now.”

Aunt Gabby’s bleary gaze finds the wall clock. “Thanks for getting in before midnight.”

“No problem. The party was kind of boring anyway. I don’t know if I’ll go to another.”

“Not your thing, huh? Well, at least you tried something new.” My aunt flashes a sleepy smile in Lila’s direction, then pads toward her bedroom.

“She’s so cool.”

“Agreed,” I say.

I unroll an old sleeping bag and set up on the floor. The rug on the wood floor is fluffy enough that it should serve as another layer of padding. While I’m doing that, Lila heads for the bathroom, and when she comes back, she looks much younger without makeup. The red hair seems extra bright against her pale, clear skin.

I point at the bed. “You sleep there. My aunt will kill me if I put a guest on the floor.”

“I guess since you’re my bodyguard, I have to listen to you.”

“At some point, I’ll remind you that you said that.”

She smirks.

Laughing, I go brush my teeth. By the time I get back, she’s settled in my daybed, and I wonder if the sheets smell like Shane. This is the most traffic my room has ever seen. I’m unsure what the deal is, if we’re supposed to whisper until we fall asleep or if the night’s basically over. I make a show of snuggling down into the sleeping bag, letting her decide.

“You don’t have a TV in your room,” Lila says softly.

“No, we just have the one. My aunt got it so we can watch movies. No cable. It’s supposed to motivate me to read more.” Though I don’t say so, I need little encouragement to stick my nose in a book. I’ve loved fiction since I was a kid in need of rescuing.

“I hope she doesn’t talk to
my
mom.”

“She’s not like that. She doesn’t proselytize.”

“Somebody’s dropping her SAT vocab words.”

“Bet you don’t get that from the burner crowd.”

Lila laughs. “That’s why I’m here on Saturday night, not watching them smoke.”

Her mention of the lack of a television clues me in; she isn’t used to falling asleep when it’s quiet. “I can turn on some music. I have an iPod.”

“Go for it.”

I rummage in the dark until I find my nano, then I set it on shuffle and click in place in the dock on my alarm clock. “Better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Night.”

To my surprise, Lila seems in no hurry to leave the next morning. Instead, she helps with breakfast, then the three of us watch an old romantic comedy about losing a guy in ten days. Before long, it’s time to straighten up the house and get ready for our guests. My stomach is a mass of butterflies, not only because Shane’s coming over, but also because he’s meeting my aunt for the first time and Ryan will be here too, maybe.

I’ve dropped my hairbrush for the third time when Lila says, “You okay?”

“Not really,” I mumble.

She’s pretty good at getting the truth out of people; with pointed questions, soon she knows exactly what’s on my mind. “Is that all?” she asks, once I’m finished talking. “If you want, I’ll take Ryan off your hands.”

I stare at her. “What does that even mean?”

“I’ll keep him from fixating and making things awkward, promise.”

Now I have visions of Lila draping herself across Ryan’s lap, but I’d pay to see his face if she does, so I nod. “Go for it.”

It’s a last-minute scramble to get both the lasagnas baked, and I’m pouring the salad into a big wooden bowl when the doorbell rings. Aunt Gabby trots down the hall, calling, “I’ll get it.”

Kimmy and Shanna arrive together, followed shortly by Theo, Tara, and Kenny. Mel’s dad drops her off next, and she’s brought homemade rolls, which Shanna says makes everyone else look bad. Everyone is kind of milling around—God, how did I get into this—when Shane knocks. Maybe it sounds dumb, but I recognize his tap:
bum-bum, bum-bum-bum
; it’s more musical and rhythmic than anyone else’s.

I manage to be cool as I swing the door open. But my first sight of him since he left yesterday morning steals both my breath and my good intentions. He’s wearing black skinny jeans with black sneakers, a white shirt, and a black faux-leather jacket. His tousled hair falls into his eyes as he smiles at me, then bends to kiss me. His lips brush mine, soft and warm, carrying the faint tinge of mint. Shane acts like it’s easy, but I’m tied in knots, hardly able to move, because I don’t know if my knees will hold me or I’ll end up against the wall, grinning like a reject. Ryan comes up the walk then and, judging by his expression, he saw the kiss.

“Hey,” I say to both of them.

The guys step past me into the house. Since our kitchen can’t accommodate this many people, Aunt Gabby has set up a couple of card tables, but they’re covered with red-and-white-checkered cloths. The white vases with red silk carnations make it look like we’re running an Italian bistro. As I run around, I perform breathless introductions. For a few minutes, it’s a constant rush of getting plates out, serving this and that, but pretty soon, we’re all seated, devouring the veggie lasagna and salad, along with the rolls Mel donated to the cause. True to her word, Lila manages to get Ryan next to her, and from his puzzled expression, he has no idea what’s going on. But he seems okay with the attention.