Birdie (10 page)

Wes

I don’t know why
I’m nervous. The red cup in my hand makes the crunching plastic noise as I squeeze it too hard without my realizing it. I release it and down the contents before I wind up spilling them on my mother’s sofa. Rachel rests an easy hand on my thigh. I read her touch.
Slow down
.

It annoys me. I’ve never been drunk in front of her before. The only time I’ve ever gotten wasted was when I was with Clay and Bryce and we experimented with mixing drinks for a party Bryce’s parents unknowingly hosted last year. Two parts vodka, half part lemon juice because Bryce forgot to pick up liquids to mix the alcohol with. The shots hit me suddenly, left my liver scarred the next day, and on the clean and narrow ever since.

I pat her hand and remove it. The room is thick with people I don’t know. I think the entire football team from our rival school in the next town is in my living room. They showed up with their hands in a gesture of peace and clutching bottles of whiskey.

“I didn’t know it would be this big,” I comment icily to Rachel. “Mayor Lott would be pissed to know underage drinking was taking place on his two thousand dollar sofa.”

“The police always looked the other way with Grant,” Rachel says in a pout. “It’s your senior year and you haven’t done anything scandalous yet. You’re allowed one slip up.”

I glance at the door for the thousandth time. It’s already nine and still no sign of Birdie. Half of me regrets baiting her into coming and the other half of me is jumping out of my skin every time the door opens, hoping to see the mess of curls piled high in a bun on her head.

The door opens again and it’s Lacey with Ben in tow. My heart lurches. But Birdie isn’t with them. The door closes behind them as they weave into the party. I deflate and go to take another sip before remembering I finished off my drink.

“Do you need another one?” Bryce asks, walking up to me as I frown into my cup. Without waiting for my answer, he snatches my cup and turns on his heel. He holds it in the air like a trophy. “Tonight, the rule is that the birthday boy’s cup shall never run empty!” he yells and is met with a loud cheer.

Whatever. Half the people don’t know whose cup to look out for.

“What’s wrong?” Rachel pesters me. “You look like someone ran over your cat. The least you could do is smile. I go through all the effort of putting this together for you.” She holds her hands up as she says this as if to say, “ta da!”

I sigh and kiss her on the cheek. I must be coming off as a dick. I didn’t want this party but when Rachel asked to throw one in my honor, I was a little shocked to discover I preferred that to an evening alone with her. There’s a gray mist that hovers around us now that usually ends up in petty fights with Rachel asking me why I’m so moody and me not being able to put a finger on it. I know she’s still the same Rachel I’ve been dating all this time, but for some reason all the things I used to find endearing are nagging me. Like I’m outgrowing them. Like I’m outgrowing
her
.

“What’s she doing here?” Rachel demands suddenly.

I turn away from Rachel and look at the door. Birdie is closing it softly as if eighty decibels of music aren’t vibrating the walls at this moment then turns to the crowd to survey the room. Her eyes roam over people. She’s looking for me.

“I invited her,” I answer, not taking my eyes off her.

“What? Why?”

I turn back to Rachel and smile. “Because she’s my friend.”

When I look back, I see that Garret has approached Birdie and is leaning up against the door, framing her in the space. That bastard is fast. I’m surprised at the heat that lights up in my veins. It disturbs me even more that she’s smiling up at him. What I want to know is who invited Winston? Because I sure as hell don’t want him here right now.

I give Rachel’s arm a squeeze, then stand up and make my way over to them. Birdie’s smile expands when she sees me, reaching her eyes and lighting up her face. Politeness flees her expression and sincerity replaces it as her eyes meet mine. It jacks with my pulse. I pull her in a quick hug.

“Thanks for coming,” I say as I draw away.

She produces a small box. “Happy birthday, Wes.”

My gifts are being piled on a table in the dining room but instead of directing her there, I take the box and open it now. It’s note card. Scrawled on it is the recipe for peppermint snowball cookies.

“Memorize it because this recipe will self destruct,” she says in a serious voice but there is a twinkle in her eye.

I look up at her speechless. Garret leans over me to peer at it and creases his brow in confusion. The last song playing has stopped and the quietness between the three of us makes Birdie nervous. She shifts her feet the way she does when she’s uncomfortable and her smile grows wobbly. “I know it’s what you wanted most in the world,” she jokes.

It’s not what I want most in the world. I don’t tell her what I want most in the world at that moment as I stare at her mouth. Instead I hold it up and smile, bringing my gaze back to her eyes. The recipe is still a close second. I can tell what it means for her to share it with me.

“Part two of the gift means you make it with me,” I say and her nerves evaporate as she reads on my face that I love the present.

“Deal,” she agrees.

Rachel suddenly claims me from behind, slipping under my arm and snaking a hand up my chest. Possessiveness puffs off her like stifling perfume. Garret does the same, drawing Birdie into a hug around the shoulders.

“Weird gift,” he tells her. He speaks loud enough for us all to hear it over the new song that starts up but he leans in close to her ear anyway. She shrugs and he laughs. “I love that you’re so unique,” he adds and I have to bite back a growl because he’s acting like he knows her and he doesn’t know shit. He hasn’t been there these past couple of months, spending the hours poking at her soft spots until one of them gives and she reveals something so protected, you feel like you just learned the secrets behind Roswell or the Kennedy assassination.

Rachel leans up and kisses me then, long and deep, her tongue putting on a show for anyone watching. As she pulls away, her smile is mischievous. “You’ll get my gift later tonight,” she tells me suggestively.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Birdie stiffen.

“We’ll leave you two lovebirds be,” Garret says, pulling Birdie away with him. She allows herself to be swallowed into the throng of dancing people.

Birdie

This party sucks. I’ve
been here for an hour and all I’ve done is give half-hearted answers to Garret’s attempt at conversation and sip Coke out of a red cup so people would quit offering me alcohol. I haven’t seen Wes since I arrived. Rachel has seen to that. She’s like a barnacle on a ship the way she welds herself to him and watches me out of her peripheral.

I wonder what he tells her when he’s hanging out with me. The amount of time we spend together has grown considerably. Enough to where he’d have to tell her
something
.

She’s kissing him again. My stomach turns. I grimace and turn away from the sight. I don’t like this at all. I much prefer our little friendship bubble at Tim’s or at the stream or the staff room of the library or my favorite place of ours, the trailer roof. The part of Wes I have there feels like a secret, like it’s meant only for me. The Public Wes, seeing him here amongst his peers, that I don’t like. I don’t like watching Rachel grope him. I don’t like his idiotic friends, Bryce and Clay. I don’t like this crush of people around me.

I curse as one of the dancers bumps into me and causes my drink to splash down the front of my shirt.

He turns and looks. “Oh, snap! I’m sorry! What are you drinking? I’ll get you another.”

Garret gives a friendly chuckle and holds out his hand. “Jimmy?” he asks.

The guy’s face lights up with recognition. “Garret! Hey, man!” They clasp hands and do the quick pat on the back thing guys do in lieu of hugging.

“What are you doing here?” Garret asks.

“The team heard about this party from a friend that goes to your school so we thought we’d drop in. Riverside is pretty dry right now with things to do.”

“Sweet. It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, Ford’s here too. Ford!” he yells and a guy grinding his hips against a girl in tight jeans turns, smiles, and holds his cup up in greeting.

Jimmy turns back to us and looks at me like he’s finally seeing me. “Who’s your friend?” he asks with a seductive smile.

Garret wastes no time falling back into protective mode. His arm finds my shoulders again. His arm is starting to feel heavy. But I leave it because I prefer it to the way Jimmy’s deep brown eyes are raking over my body.

“This is Birdie Clements. She started going to Shenoah High a couple months ago.”

“Nice. To. Meet. You. Damn!”

I roll my eyes. “I’m going to get a new drink.
Myself
,” I add before Jimmy can renew his offer to replenish mine. I’m going for one hundred percent Coke and I’m one hundred percent sure that his replacement version would be about five percent Coke and ninety-five percent rum.

I don’t go directly to the kitchen. I roam the house a bit first looking for Lacey. I know she’s here somewhere, she told me earlier today she and Ben decided to go. I haven’t seen her yet, though and she’s my ride home. Esther dropped me off because my truck wouldn’t start.

I remember suddenly the cell phone Tim got for me. He insisted I start carrying one since my truck has been on the fritz. Starting it has been a game of roulette lately and I’ve hitched more than a couple rides home with Wes. As if possessing testosterone is the only requirement to understanding the mechanics of automobiles, Tim and Wes have a date Sunday to figure out where the poor hunk of metal has gone wrong.

I pull up my contacts. I have five. Tim, Lacey, Wes, Esther, and Darla. I try Lacey but it rings until it goes to voicemail. She probably can’t hear it through all this ruckus.

I go upstairs to take a quick look around and make sure I didn’t miss her. One of the rooms upstairs is cracked and as I approach I can see through the opening a guy sitting on the bed and a girl crouched in front of him, giving him a blow job.

The guy is Bryce and his face is contorted as he moans. I whip around sharply and stumble to the stairway. My Coke rises to my throat. God damn it, I’m never going to get that image out of my mind. Wes’s birthday party is a loud, sweaty, crowded affair with too much alcohol and semen for my taste. I did my time. I showed up like he asked me to. And he afforded me all of two minutes of his attention.

Obligation fulfilled.

I exit through the back door onto the deck and survey the backyard one last time for Lacey so I can at least say hi and bye. Instead, my eyes fall on Wes. He’s sitting on a bench in the backyard and Rachel is all but straddling him. As she has been all night, her mouth is on some part of his body and he has a smile on his face as he says something to her.

It’s the smile that kills me. It shouldn’t. That’s not my boyfriend. That’s not my lap to sit on. That’s not my neck to kiss. But that’s my fucking smile. Or at least it feels like mine when he trains it on me.

“Beautiful night just like the beautiful lady standing in front of me.”

I turn and see Jimmy wagging his eyebrows at me. In a moment of stupidity and because I feel completely and utterly smarted watching the make-out display between Wes and Rachel, I grab Jimmy’s face and bring his lips crashing to mine.

He wastes no time bring his arms around my back and crushing me to him. When I try to pull away, he pushes harder. His teeth clack against mine and his tongue licks me as he tries to get it in my mouth. I pull my head away.

“Okay. Okay. Down boy,” I say, but he doesn’t let ago and dips his head to mine again.

I push against his chest. “Stop!” I say with more force, but he’s now kissing my neck, searching for new places to go since I keep moving my face.

And then he’s suddenly gone.

I stumble from the force of him being ripped away and whip around in time to see Wes land a solid punch to his face.

Jimmy shoves Wes off angrily. “What’s your problem, man?” he shouts at him, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He works his jaw from side to side. I see his hand clench into a fist.

“My problem is you’re wasted,” Wes retorts. “She told you to stop.”

“I was about to.”

Wes steps in closer and gets into Jimmy’s face. His expression is angry and red. “About to isn’t fast enough.”

Clay walks in between them before another punch can be thrown. “Okay, okay. He stopped. Wes? It’s done.”

“Get out of my house,” Wes growls, not taking his eyes off Jimmy. Jimmy surges forward in anger, but Clay’s arm holds him back and Jimmy steps away wildly, pushing off him. Ford, the dancing friend from earlier, is behind him and tries to calm him down but Jimmy’s face looks anything but.

“Fine!” he yells. “But she kissed me. She started it. You dumped your girlfriend out of your lap and rushed over here without even knowing what happened. What? You want in her pants or something, Lott? You want a turn?”

Wes is breathing hard, still glaring at Jimmy. Slowly, his head turns to look at the crowd that’s gathered. The music has stopped and a hundred eyes are pounding down on the scene before them. The flush of red in Wes’s face morphs from anger to embarrassment. His eyes meet mine briefly then look away.

Rachel steps forward, a scowl twisting her face. “I didn’t even invite you,” she says in a snooty voice.

“Rachel,” Wes warns quietly. He pulls her back behind him. His eyes flick to Ford. “Get him home,” he says in a commanding voice and Ford ushers Jimmy out of the yard through the back gate.

“Can we get back to the party?” Rachel asks loudly and somewhere someone turns the music back on, pulling the crowd’s focus off of us.

Wes takes a deep breath like he’s steadying himself for the attention and walks slowly to me. “Let me take you home,” he offers but he still doesn’t quite meet my eye. Instead his gaze keeps darting around, assessing how many people are watching us. The spotlight is on him like it’s never been before and it’s because people are curious about our new and sudden friendship. I don’t like it. The attention. Wes’s nervousness, which is so uncharacteristic of him.

Garret comes to my side and takes my hand. “You ok?” he asks. I nod and look at him thankfully. He tucks a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “Come on, Birdie. I’ll get you home.”

“See?” Rachel steps in. “She’s fine. Come on. Let’s get back to your birthday.” Rachel takes Wes’s hand and leads him back into the house. He hesitates momentarily but then goes without looking back at me.

I fight hard to keep my eyes from watering. It was a mistake to come here. Our friendship is so fragile, bringing it out in public cracked it immediately just as I knew it would.

Clay turns to me with a sheepish look. “Hey. Don’t mind Rachel. She can be a real bitch sometimes. Wes will straighten her out. But…but maybe it
is
best if you head home.”

I shove past him. “Don’t worry, I’m going.” And then I’m walking fast out the gate and into the front yard with Garret darting behind me.