My Sweetest Escape (17 page)

but laugh as he told us stupid stories about

random things. Dusty was one of those

infectious people that made you feel good

when you were around them. It was easy to

see that everyone adored him, and easy to

see why he and Hunter had formed their

“bromance.”

Hunter was like that, too.

“I think he’s into you,” Hannah said

during one of the songs when Dusty had left

us. “Like, really into you.”

“Well, that doesn’t matter because I’m

not into him. At all.”

“Funny, because you’ve been staring at

him like you want to finish him like the last

piece of cake.” I stared at her and she

wiggled her eyebrows. “Tasty, tasty man

cake covered in sex frosting.”

“You are disgusting.”

“Or maybe I’m just right.” I had to shush

her as Dusty rejoined us.

“So what do you think about those two

crazy kids getting hitched?” He pointed

toward Hunter and Taylor, who hadn’t let

go of each other pretty much the entire

time.

“Are you asking me about my feelings

on marriage, Dusty?” I said.

“Whoa, Red. Easy there. Just making

conversation.”

“I think it’s lovely. I mean, they’re

obviously perfect for each other. Some

people are like that. Made for each other,”

I said.

“Some people are,” Dusty said, but he

was looking at me, and I could feel my

stupid face and ears going red. I wished

sometimes I could wear a hat that would

cover my ears so people couldn’t see them

broadcasting my emotions.

The marriage conversation was dropped

as one of the Steiners started taking bets on

if he could sing random songs that people

shouted out without making any mistakes.

If he made a mistake with a lyric, he had to

drink. And everyone else got to drink if he…

Well, the rules weren’t really clear.

Everyone seemed pretty gone at that

point, so it made sense to them, but not to

us sober folks.

Dusty sighed and stared into his soda

can.

“I don’t think anyone’s going to arrest

you if you have a beer,” I said.

He shook his head. “No, but I made

someone a promise, and I have to stick to

it.”

“You go to AA?” Hannah said, laughing

as the guy singing got a lyric wrong and

everyone called him on it. God, you could

make anything into a drinking game.

“No, just took some advice someone

gave me to heart. Made a change.”

“Is this supposed to be an

improvement?” I said.

He held his hand on top of his chest,

over his heart.

“Ouch.”

I was saved from replying by Renee

stumbling into the wall and Paul barely

catching her. Little hypocrite. I knew she

drank, having gotten more than one drunk

text and a few drunk voice mails from her.

Paul caught my eye and nodded.

“Excuse me,” I said to Hannah and

Dusty.

“I’m not drunk, I swear,” Renee said,

although
swear
came out
schwear.
“I only

had—” she counted on her fingers, but it

wasn’t working very well “—three drinks?”

It definitely sounded like a question.

“Good job, Paul. Way to keep her

sober.” I patted him on the shoulder as

Renee slumped against him and hummed

an off-key song.

“It’s not as easy as it looks,” he said,

holding her up. “I’m going to take her

home. I can come back and get you, if you

want.”

“I can give Jos a ride. I haven’t been

drinking at all.” If there were an award for

lurking and sneaking, Dusty Sharp would

have won it hands down.

“Thanks, man,” Paul said as he shoved

Renee’s arms into her coat and she

protested.

“Put her to bed and tell her she’s a

terrible example. Not that she’ll remember

it,” I said.

“Hey, little sister!” Renee leaned and

smacked a kiss on my cheek. “Why are you

so sad?”

“I’m not sad, Ne. Go home.”

“But you are sad. Sooooo saaaaddddd,”

she sang as Paul dragged her out the door.

“I love how she gets drunk after giving

me the third degree,” I said, shaking my

head. I was going to give
her
the third

degree the next morning when she was

good and hungover so it had the biggest

impact.

“Are you?” Dusty said, laughing a little at

Renee.

“Am I what?”

“Sad?” Someone yelled, and Dusty

pulled me to the side as a guy barreled by

us yelling about something or other. In

addition to lurking and sneaking, he had

very good reflexes.

“No, I’m not sad,” I lied.

He tilted his head a little. “You seem

sad.”

I looked away from his searing green

eyes. “Um, thanks.

I barely know you. I don’t really think

you’re qualified to make judgments on my

level of sad.”

“Okay, fine. Just let me know when you

and Hannah are ready to go.” With that he

turned around and dived into the fray,

heading toward the kitchen and the

makeshift bar.

“How are you doing?” Darah had

unstuck herself from Mase’s side to come

see me.

“Fine. Did you see Renee?”

Darah rolled her eyes.

“She always thinks her tolerance is way

higher than it actually is. You’d think she

would have learned by now.” Mase came

over and put his arm around her.

“What’s up, Jos? Having a good time?”

He was clearly a little buzzed. He held out

his fist as if he expected me to give him a

bump. So I did and he cheered.

“Yeah, great party.” I gave him a

thumbs-up. It would be so much better if I

wasn’t sober.

Why do you need to drink to have fun?

Drinking just dul s your
senses. Why would

you want to dull the beautiful intensity of

life?

An arm snaked around my shoulder and

I jumped. “Hey, girlfriend, you abandoned

me.”

I turned to find a grumpy Hannah

leaning on me. Some of her hair floated into

my mouth and I brushed it away.

“Do you wanna go?” I said.

She removed her arm and shrugged.

“I’m cool with whatever.” Her eyes kept

skipping around the room, as if she was

looking for someone.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing,” she said, smiling at me. “So

I’m guessing some guy is going to drive us

home now? Some guy named Dusty?”

Another hand descended on my

shoulder, but it wasn’t Hannah’s this time.

“You would be correct, Hannah Gillespie.”

“You know, one of these times you’re

going to do that and I’m going to think

you’re trying to kill me and I might kick you

in the junk.”

“My junk would be honored,” he said,

removing his hand.

I saw that he had my and Hannah’s coats

in the other.

“You guys are going home?” Darah said.

“Yeah, I think so. I still have some

homework to do.”

That was a lie. I had some blogging to

do. I’d decided that I was going to get ahead

on posts and schedule them ahead of time

so I wouldn’t always be behind. It was a

great idea, in theory, but I wasn’t sure how

it would work in practice.

“See you at home, Little Ne!” Mase

called as Darah waved to us. How she was

going to handle that monster of a guy was

beyond me, but she’d done well so far.

“I’ll tell Taylor and Hunter you went

home,” Darah called after us.

“Ladies,” Dusty said, handing us our

coats. We put them on as he led us out of

the house. His car was parked in an

interesting spot, and he ended up

maneuvering it out before we could get in.

“You can have shotgun,” Hannah said in

my ear.

Awesome.

Hannah and Dusty chatted about

random things as he drove to her dorm.

“See you tomorrow, girl. Thanks for the

ride, Dusty.”

“Anytime,” he said with that signature

wave.

Once Hannah departed, she appeared to

have taken all the air out of the car with

her. What was wrong with me?

I’d been alone with him in the car

before. Why was this different?

“So what do you really think about

Taylor and Hunter getting married?”

“Why do you care?” I reached out to

play with the radio for something to focus

on, other than Dusty.

“Here,” he said, reaching across, grazing

my boob and opening the glove box and

pulling out a battered iPod. He plugged it

into the cigarette lighter and changed the

radio station before handing me the iPod.

“Skip whatever you don’t like.”

An unfamiliar song came out of the

speakers, so I skipped to the next one.

Another unfamiliar song. I clicked to his

library and scrolled through. Damn, the

thing was jammed.

He had all sorts of stuff in there. I settled

on Beastie Boys, just to watch his face when

“Fight for Your Right” came on.

I was not disappointed.

“Interesting choice, Red. I approve.” He

nodded, and I could see his teeth flashing in

the headlights of the oncoming cars.

“What, do I not look like a girl who

would listen to the Beastie Boys?”

“No, it’s not that. I just didn’t think

you’d choose that.”

We listened to the rest of the song and

then I switched it to Death Cab for Cutie. He

laughed.

“You are an interesting girl, Red. I’m

never bored when I’m with you.”

Ditto.

“You know, if you ever want to talk

about anything, I have pretty good listening

skills.”

“Are they better than your lurking skills?

Because you’re pretty good at that,” I said.

“Lurking?”

“Yeah, you always seem to sneak up

behind me, and I never hear you coming.”

“It’s a skill. Honed over years of having

to get away quietly.”

“Get away from what?” Let’s see how he

liked getting asked personal questions.

“Nice try, Red. Those doors are shut and

they’re not going to open. Not even for a

cute little thing like you.” He was trying to

distract me, but it wasn’t going to work. I’d

just let him think that. I had other means of

prying into his life.

“Fine, fine.” I scrolled through some

more songs. Huh. He had Ingrid Michaelson.

That was a surprise. I put on “The Way I

Am” and waited for his reaction. He

laughed softly, and I could almost hear him

blushing.

“If you tell anyone I have Ingrid on here,

I will… I don’t know.”

“What, would listening to her ruin your

image?” I put air quotes around
image.

“I am perfectly confident in my image,

thank you very much.” He couldn’t even say

it with a straight face, so I started laughing.

“You are so full of shit.”

“Yeah, Red. I am. You shouldn’t believe

a word I say.”

“I don’t.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

He tried to stop smiling but he couldn’t

and I threw my head back and laughed like I

hadn’t in a long time. He pulled up in front

of Yellowfield House and turned off the car.

“Here you are,” he said.

“Here I am.”

It was one of those moments that, if this

were a movie, he would have leaned over

and given me a good-night kiss.

But because it wasn’t a movie, we just

sat there and I tried to think of something

that I could say that would give me a

graceful exit.

“Thanks for the ride.” Yeah, that wasn’t

it.

“Anytime. Anytime you need anything,

just…let me know.” That would be kind of

hard to do, since I didn’t have his number.

But yeah, I wasn’t going to ask him for it.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” It was times like

these when I wish I had a script.

“I’m not into you like that, Red. If that’s

what you’re worried about.” Well, the script

didn’t matter if he went off book.

“I wasn’t.”

“Okay. Because I know I joke around,

but it’s not serious.” He seemed to be trying

really hard to be convincing.

“Right.”

“Okay, then. I guess I’ll…see you

around.” There seemed to be nothing else

to do but get out of the car, so I did and

started walking toward the house. I heard

the creak of the window crank and then his

voice.

“Jos?” The sound of my actual name

made me turn around by reflex.

“I…” I’d never seen him at a loss for

words, but he seemed to be nothing but

tongue-tied tonight. He whispered

something that I didn’t hear.

“What?”

He looked through the windshield and

not at me. “Sorry, nothing.”

“Well…I’m going to go in the house

now.”

“You should do that. It’s too cold to be

standing outside.”

“Right. Here I go.” I started walking

backward and he laughed.

“Don’t trip, Red.”

I kept going backward until I got to the

porch and he watched me the whole time.