In Real Life (23 page)

What? I shoot up in my bed. “You knew I was here? You knew I was here and you were hooking up next to me anyway?”

I'm so mad at Oscar because he doesn't know me, but I'm even more mad at Lo for not telling him,
Hey, maybe we should hold off on this until my BFF isn't feet away from us.
I mean, who does that? Has Vegas made her insane?

I glare at her, but she doesn't return my look.

“Fine.” I shove my phone in my pocket and jump off the bed. “I guess I won't take a nap.” My mind hadn't been able to calm itself enough even to attempt a nap, but they don't know that. And I'm pretty sure that sleeping at whatever time it is isn't a nap anyway, but actual sleep. “I'll leave you two alone.”

I think I hear Oscar say “good” as I storm out the door of my own hotel room in the middle of the night, but I don't turn around to verify. I'll take this up with Lo tomorrow.

Once in the hallway, I lean my back against the wall and sink down to the ground.

I fought with Nick and ran away like a total coward after he told me he had feelings for me, and now I've been kicked out of my own hotel room so my best friend can stick her tongue down the throat of his best friend, some guy she met only a few hours ago.

My spring break really sucks.

Oh yeah, my text. The number isn't one I have saved in my phone, but as soon as I check the message, I see whose it is.

HEY HANNAH, IT'S FRANKIE. I'M DOWNSTAIRS AT YOUR HOTEL. CAN WE TALK?

To borrow a term from Oscar … Seriously? Could this night get any worse?

Well, I have nothing else to do. I have no hotel room to hide in. Nick will probably never talk to me again. Might as well go down and let Frankie yell at me or whatever she wants to do. Gotta end the trip on a high note, right? I answer,

BE RIGHT DOWN
.

I get up, take a deep breath, and head back to the elevators.

I'm jabbing at the elevator button over and over with all the strength in my finger. There's a young couple in the elevator hallway with me, and they're watching my enthusiastic button pressing with horror. “I think it's going to come,” the guy says to me after about my twentieth jab.

I'm so annoyed with Nick and with myself, but I'm also pissed at Lo for kicking me out of the room so she can hook up with Oscar, a guy she barely even knows. Especially when I have needed her all night. Giving her a piece of my mind takes priority over meeting up with Frankie.

“Sorry,” I mumble to the couple. I give the
DOWN
button one last smack; then I whirl around and stomp back to the room. I pound on the door with the heel of my hand. I'm tempted to kick it and yell out her name, but it's pretty late and I'm already on enough shit lists as it is. I don't need to have everyone on this floor trying to sleep hating me, too. Although, if the crowd down in the casino is any indication, it doesn't matter what time it is in this city, no one is sleeping.

After what seems like an hour, the door opens a crack and Lo's head, hair all akimbo, pokes out.

“Did you forget your key?” she asks.

“No,” I say. “I have it. I wanted to make sure you were decent.” Truth is, I was more concerned about getting her attention in some dramatic fashion than I was about practicality. It didn't even occur to me to use my key. “Can we talk for a sec?”

“Right now? I'm a little busy.”

“Don't care.” I push the door open more and lean under her arm into the room. “Lo will be right back, Oscar. Hold on to that boner.”

“Hannah!” Lo sounds all scandalized, but she also laughs, so I know she's not too mad at me. I take her arm and pull her outside into the hallway.

“Dude,” I say as the door clicks shut behind us. “What the hell is all of this?”

“What? I'm having fun. That's what this trip is all about, right?”

“Right, but—” I jerk my head down the hallway to let her know we are going on a walk. I head out down the hall and she follows close behind. “You just met Oscar tonight.”

“But he's Nick's friend. It's not like he's some random dude off the street.”

“I know, but—”

“You were hooking up with Jordy.”

“I know, but—”

“But what, Hannah?” Lo stops and looks at me, her face dead serious. “What are you getting at?”

“This isn't like you.” I can't explain why I'm so annoyed. Because I'm supposed to be the one going wild with Nick and I'm not? Because I've needed Lo and Grace and they both ditched me for guys at the first opportunity? Because this whole trip has been a nightmare since the second I left home?

Lo puts her hands on her hips. “Kissing some guy you just met in a bar when you came here for a different guy isn't like you, either.”

“First of all, I was following your expert advice. Second, Nick has a girlfriend. And how did you know I was kissing Jordy?”

“We ran into Nick downstairs on the way up here. Oh man, he was pissed.”

“I know he was,” I say, kicking at the carpet. The shame from my public fight with him floods back to me. “He told me he loved me, but then I freaked out and ran away. I ruined everything.”

“Oh shit, girl.”

“What?” I snap my head up and narrow my eyes at her. “Now you're interested?”

Her head cocks to the side, and her eyebrows draw together. “What do you mean?”

“All night I've needed you and I've needed Grace. I've been going through hell here, and I thought I could count on you.”

Lo's face twists up. “I know we came out here for you, Hannah, but this is my life, too. And Grace's. You're my best friend, but I'm not going to sit around and do nothing, life totally on hold, in case you need me. I'm in Vegas. I'm going to have a little fun.”

“That's not what I'm saying.” I shake my head, trying to clear the built-up frustration from the night. “I want you guys to have fun. But I needed you. I still need you. I don't know what's going on.”

Lo stares at me, good and hard. I think her face is going to soften up and she'll pull me into a hug and tell me how to fix everything. But instead she narrows her eyes, sharpening all her features. “Look, I mean this in the nicest possible way, because you know I love you, but you act like a control freak and then take absolutely no control over the things that matter. You float around and wait for other people to make your decisions for you, but you don't actually do anything yourself. I think it's time for you to stop relying on me and Grace and everyone else, and solve this on your own.”

“But, Lo—”

“I've had to listen to you talk about Nick for years, and, honestly, I'm getting sick of it. If you want him, go get him. Talk to him. Do something. If not, shut up about it and deal.”

“I can't just—”

“This is tough love, baby,” she says with a wry smile. “Go figure it out.” Then she turns around and walks back to the room, and to Oscar, leaving me alone in the hallway.

I do want Nick, but I think it's too late to go get him.

And I'm going to have to go through Frankie first.

 

CHAPTER

25

It's not hard to find Frankie downstairs. At this hour, the casino is full of ridiculously drunk people stumbling back to their rooms and unbelievably trashy people powering through the night, gambling their last few dollars away.

Frankie is one of the few sober ones.

She's sitting at a table in front of a closed shop called Earl of Sandwich. I hesitate before she sees me, and I take a second to look at her. Her bright red hair is a little flat and dark circles have formed under her eyes, but besides that, she's as cute as she was when I saw her for the first time earlier tonight. Unbelievable, since I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the elevator on the way down and I look like I've been run over by a truck and then backed up over by it for good measure.

She's bent over and on her phone, of course. Texting some bouncer or club promoter, I'm sure, or maybe updating her blog with her recap of the night's exciting events. I can picture the tweet:

NICK'S PATHETIC FRIEND TRIED TO MOVE IN ON HIM #WTF.

I take a deep breath, gather everything I have inside me, and I walk up to her.

“Hey.”

Her head snaps up and a smile is on her face immediately. “Thanks for coming down here, Hannah.” She sounds so freaking happy to see me that I smile back in spite of myself.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” I stick my hands into my pockets and look at the ground. “Lo and I were having a fight.”

“Oh no!” She jumps up from her chair and hugs me. Hard. “I'm so sorry, Hannah. Best-friend fights are the worst.”

Tell me about it. I just had two in the span of an hour.

“I have an idea,” she says as she pulls away from me, her eyes practically sparkling. “Let's go have some fun. Do you play blackjack?” She doesn't even wait for my answer; instead, she pulls me into the casino, weaving us through the maze of tables, about half of which are closed at this hour, and she slows down every time we pass one playing blackjack.

“There's blackjack.” I point with my free arm.

“Ew. That's single deck.”

I don't know what that means, or what any of these signs mean, so I let her lead me. She dismisses every table, though, mumbling things like “Spanish Twenty-one” and “Bah. High limits.”

Finally she chooses a table that meets her standards. It's empty of players, in a pink area of tables called the Pleasure Pit. The dealer, a pretty dark-haired girl in a bustier with a necklace that says
Lourdes
in script, smiles at us as we approach. “This is perfect,” Frankie says. “Sit down.”

I sit.

“I don't know how to play blackjack,” I say, adjusting myself on the tall chair.

“No big,” Frankie says. “I'll tell you what to do. And so will Lourdes. Right, Lourdes?”

“Of course.” Lourdes says it in this sexy, breathy voice, and I suddenly wonder if we are supposed to be sitting in this area called the Pleasure Pit.

“Are we okay to be here?” I whisper to Frankie. “This feels like the ‘naked chicks on display' area. I feel a bit out of place.”

Again, Lourdes smiles. “You're fine. Everyone is welcome in the Pleasure Pit.” Behind her, a girl on a box is go-go dancing to the Jay Z song playing throughout the casino, so I totally don't believe her, but no one is kicking us out yet. “But I do need to see your IDs.”

Oh yeah. You have to be twenty-one to gamble. Luckily, I shoved my wallet in my back pocket when I stormed out of the hotel room earlier, so I have my fake with me. It's the third time I've used it tonight, but my hand still shakes as I pull it out of its sleeve in my wallet and hand it to Lourdes at the same time Frankie hands hers over.

I'm watching Lourdes's face as she examines our IDs. Her eyes flick back and forth from my picture to me, and then from Frankie's picture to Frankie's face.

“Drinks?” A cocktail waitress comes up behind us, and before I can wave her off, Frankie orders two Jack and Cokes for us.

“But—”

Frankie puts a hand up in my face. “We need to talk, and I'm going to need a drink to do it.”

My stomach drops to the ground. What is she going to say that she needs me buzzed for? She was hugging me and smiling a minute ago. Was that all an act to get me comfortable so she can scream at me about her boyfriend?

“Fine,” I say. “But can I have a water, too?”

The waitress nods and walks to the next table, and I turn around to find Lourdes has laid our IDs down on the table in front of us. Whew.

Lourdes stares at us like she's expecting something.

“So, what do we do now?” I whisper. “Make a bet or something?”

“I got this,” Frankie says. “This is my treat, okay?”

I start to tell her I can use some of my slot machine money, but she stops me with her hand again. She reaches into her wallet and pulls out a one-hundred-dollar bill that she lays out on the table. Lourdes takes the bill, flattens it out in front of her, and calls something over her shoulder to the huge guy in a suit behind her.

“Oh my God,” I whisper again. “What is she yelling? Are we in trouble? Where did you get that money? Is it stolen?”

“Settle down.” Frankie pats my leg. “They do that with big bills, so the pit boss knows a big bill is getting changed into chips.”

Lourdes pushes a stack of chips to us. Frankie divides up the chips between us and explains the rules to me as Lourdes deals.

I look at my two cards. An eight and a five. “I have thirteen. Hit, right?”

“Nope,” Frankie says. “I know it seems like you should, but she has a sixteen.” She waves her hands over the top of her queen and eight, and nods at me, like that's what I'm supposed to do, too. It goes against pretty much the only thing I know about blackjack, to stay on a thirteen, since I thought it was about trying to get to twenty-one, but I follow her lead. I don't know what it is about Frankie, but she has this way of making you do what she tells you even when it flies in the face of all logic and reason. I wonder if that Frankie Magic is how she got Nick to go out with her in the first place.

Now it's time for Lourdes to turn over her next card. It's a four. Lourdes gets a twenty. Frankie and I both lose.

“Sorry, ladies,” Lourdes says as she leans over to collect our chips and our cards.

“That totally wasn't supposed to happen,” Frankie says, shaking her head. “You should always stay on that hand. She's supposed to bust.”

The waitress delivers our drinks, which are apparently free if you're sitting at a table, and Frankie continues giving me blackjack tips, all of which result in me losing every single hand.

“I hate blackjack,” I say after losing a particularly painful hand where I put all kinds of extra bets down because Frankie told me to, and I lost them all.