My Sweetest Escape (21 page)

“I’m fine.”

I was saved from further explanation by

the arrival of Darah and a few minutes later

Taylor and Hunter and then Renee.

“So, Hannah’s coming over for dinner. I

hope no one minds.”

Everyone chimed in with how they

didn’t, and they’d be more than happy to

have her whenever she wanted to come

over. Yellowfield House was like a sponge,

soaking up random people, and I was one of

them. Pretty soon they’d have to add a

fourth level, or turn the basement into a

dorm. I could just picture it with bunk beds

lining the walls.

Taylor and Hunter were on for dinner,

and they were doing pizza, since everyone

could choose what they wanted for

toppings and we could make them

individually. Hannah showed up just as we

were flattening out our individual crusts. Of

course Dusty was staying. I wanted to ask

him if he was going to just move in, but I

was kind of giving him the silent treatment

for the thing about the coffeepot.

“Hey, girl. And everyone,” she said,

walking through the front door without

knocking.

Hannah got a warm welcome. I saw the

same look in her eyes that I’d seen earlier

when she’d told me about making me go to

the party.

“Pull up a ball,” Hunter said after she’d

washed her hands.

He gave her a ball of dough and a plate

to roll it out on. “You just flatten it out as

much as you can, and then put it on the pan

here and we’ve got sauce and toppings. I

recommend using the toppings to make

your name, so you remember which one is

yours and there’s no confusion. Okay?”

“Got it, chief,” she said, giving him a

salute and banging down the dough with a

little too much force.

Everyone made their pizzas, and we

somehow fit them all in the oven at once.

Darah and Mase shooed us all out of the

kitchen as they cleaned up, so we had music

sex in the living room, with Dusty doing

backup drums for Hunter. I kept waiting for

Hannah to make her move, but she just sat

back and kept yelling out ridiculous song

suggestions that made everyone laugh.

It wasn’t until we were all stuffing our

faces and Darah and Renee were recounting

memories from one of the parties they’d

gone to when they were freshmen.

“Speaking of parties,” Hannah said.

“There’s this really cool one happening at

the Kappa Sigma house and I got an invite

and I need a wing woman.”

Her pronouncement was met with

silence at first.

“You want to go to a Kappa Sig party?”

Hunter said, skeptical.

“Well, I feel like my college experience

won’t be complete without going to a frat

party. It’s not that I want to go…it’s that I

feel obligated to go. And I really shouldn’t

go alone, so I need someone to escort me.

Hey, Jos, what are you doing on Saturday

night?” Was this her master plan? Because

it wasn’t very masterful.

“Absolutely not,” Renee said, practically

yelling.

“Well, how about this? How about you

all come with us? Then we can all go and

have a good time and you can supervise us

and I can fulfill my dream. Win-win.”

Dusty coughed.

“You okay there, bud?” Hannah

happened to be sitting next to him, so she

banged him on the back.

“Fine,” he choked out, taking a gulp

from his water glass.

“So,” Hannah said, turning back toward

Renee. “Are you in?”

All eyes were on Renee.

She put her hands up. “Why do I have to

be the deciding one? Someone else say yes

or no. I don’t care either way.”

“Could be fun,” Taylor said.

“Right?” Hannah said, latching on to

Taylor. Hunter shrugged.

“I guess.”

“What about you, Dare?” Mase said.

“I’ve already been to one, and it wasn’t

that bad.”

Hannah smelled a victory.

“I’ll come, too. Keep you girls in line.

And you could use some extra muscle on

your side,” Hunter said.

“Agreed,” Mase said, nodding.

“I’m in if you’re in, Nene.” Props to Paul

for using the nickname at a time like this.

“Well, I guess I have no choice,” Renee

said, getting up and putting her plate in the

sink. I knew this was going to happen. Now

my sister was mad, and I was going to have

to try to patch it up. Renee could stay mad

for a while; I knew that from experience.

I gave Hannah a look, but she just smiled

triumphantly. I shook my head and stood

up, following Renee to the sink.

“I told her I didn’t want to go. I have no

idea why she wants to go, but she does. I’m

sorry.”

“It’s okay, Jos. It’s fine. I’m just… I don’t

like being the bad guy. I hate being in that

situation. I want to be your older sister, not

your mom, and sometimes I cross the line

and feel like I have to be your parent.”

“I’m sorry.” Now I felt like absolute shit

and I was kind of pissed at Hannah. If she

hadn’t been so intent on going to this

stupid party, which would probably turn out

to be nothing and totally not worth it,

Renee wouldn’t be mad at me.

“I’m not mad at you. I know it’s not your

fault, Jos.” She turned on the sink and

everyone else started bringing their dishes

over.

“It’s our turn,” Darah said as she picked

up the soap and squirted it on one of the

sponges.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it,” Renee said.

“Babe, come on,” Paul said, taking her

hand. I knew my sister well enough to know

that she was on the verge of tears.

He took her hand and led her upstairs

and I heard the door to their bedroom shut.

“Can I talk to you, Hannah?” I walked

toward the downstairs and jerked my head

so we could go down into the cave and have

a chat.

“I am so sorry. I had no idea that would

happen,” she said as I shut the door and

walked down the stairs.

“What did you think was going to

happen? That you’d just suggest that her

underage sister should go into a snake pit

filled with alcohol and boys who want to

touch me and things that I was all wrapped

up in this summer and she’d just go along

with it? Seriously, Hannah?”

We’d been friends such a short time

that this was our first fight, and it felt like

shit.

Her eyes were wide, her usually sassy

demeanor deflated.

“I’m so sorry. I just… I’m so sorry.”

“Why did you want to go so bad?”

She walked the rest of the way down the

stairs and sat down on the second to last

one. I sat a few steps above her.

“It’s so stupid. You’re going to think I’m

a moron.”

“Tell me and we’ll find out,” I said. I just

wanted people to stop lying to me, or

changing the subject. I wanted the truth, for

once.

The truth is the most beautiful thing

there is, because it’s the
most real.

I didn’t believe him when he’d said that,

and I wasn’t sure if I believed it now. The

truth sucked a lot of the time.

“Okay, so you remember at the party on

Sunday that I was being weird? And then

we saw those guys in the Union?” I knew it

had something to do with that. I just had no

idea to what extent, or how.

“So, this guy came up to me and he

pretended to flirt with me, invite me to the

party and then he went and told all his

friends that he’d flirted with a freak. It was

some sort of stupid dare or something. I

was pissed, of course, but whatever, you

know? But then I saw them again and they

just pissed me off. I’m not fucking Gandhi. I

can’t deal sometimes. So I had this plan to

go to the party and fuck them over

somehow. I wasn’t exactly sure how I was

going to do it. I was going to wait until we

go there and, like, pull a Carrie, only, like,

get the bad guys this time. You know?”

“Were you planning on bringing a

bucket of pig’s blood with you?”

“Obviously not. That was more of a

metaphor than an actual plan. I was kind of

hoping you’d help me out with it.”

“You are one of the single weirdest

people I have ever met.”

“That is not the meanest thing anyone’s

ever said to me.”

I could imagine.

“Are you mad?”

“A little.” I slid down a step so I was one

closer to her.

“You could have just told me that’s why

you wanted to go instead of orchestrating

this crazy plan. Or I would have just told you

that those douche bags weren’t worth it

and averted this whole thing.”

“I know you’re right. I have this

tendency to only trust myself and think that

everyone else is going to screw me over.

Probably because lots of people have

screwed me over.

I’d tell you how many times it has

happened, but you might not believe some

of my stories.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” I had stories,

too.

She put her head down on her knees.

“I’ve messed things up, haven’t I?”

“It’s okay. You’re allowed. And it’s not

like you did it to be mean, or for some

malicious reason. I mean, not a malicious

reason against people who hadn’t already

been assholes to you.” I wasn’t much for an

eye for an eye, but getting those guys back

seemed like a valid plan. “But would

messing with those guys make you feel

better?”

“At first.”

“Have you ever done this to someone

who’s been like this in the past?”

She finally lifted her head up and I saw a

glimmer of her smile.

“There was this girl who used to call me

freak face and would move away from me if

I was ever near her. She used to say a lot of

other horrible things, and this one day, I’d

just had enough and snapped.” She moved

up and there was only one step between us.

“So every morning she used to get these

giant frozen coffees from the Starbucks,

right? I mean, they were huge. I’m pretty

sure they were the only thing she ever

consumed. I can’t remember seeing her eat.

I’m pretty sure they were her bitch fuel.

Anyway, so I started buying the exact drinks

she got and putting them in her locker. So

she’d open her locker and they’d just spill

over all her shit. Wow, that sounds so much

worse when I say it out loud. It was funny

that week when every time after lunch

she’d open her locker and one would come

flying out at her. She never figured it out.”

I had to admit it was pretty good.

“And you know what? I bet that girl is

probably screwing some ridiculously hot

guy at some awesome college in Florida or

something. Bitch,” she said.

“Or maybe she got knocked up the

summer after high school and her parents

made her marry him and she had a super

ugly baby and she waits tables at a horrible

diner and her boss is always grabbing her

ass, but she can’t say anything because she

can’t afford to lose her job because her

baby daddy is an alcoholic who just sits in

his recliner and drinks all day.”

She stared at me as if I’d grown an extra

head and then burst out laughing.

“Girl, you have a hell of an imagination.

You should be a writer.” She wasn’t the first

person who’d said that to me. In English,

Greg had written comments on my first few

prompts that were all positive, and he’d

singled me out more than once for

recognition. Of course I’d turned into a

human fireball every time, and I wished

he’d stop doing it.

And because Hannah had told me about

one of her little secrets, I decided to share

one of mine.

“Hold on a sec.” My laptop was in my

room, so I grabbed it and turned it on,

clicking on to the internet browser and

pulling up my blog. I handed the computer

to Hannah without saying anything.

“Okay,” she said, scrolling through my

blog. “What is this?”

“It’s mine. My blog. This is my secret

identity. My name is Joscelyn Archer and

I’m a music blogger.”

Her eyes went wide and she stared at

the blog more intently.

“No shit, this is yours? Oh, my God.” I

watched her eyes race over my latest album

review and then she clicked on some of the

tabs and looked at some other things. I

waited for the verdict.

“This is so freaking awesome! Why

didn’t you tell me about this?”

I shrugged.

“I don’t know. I guess it was just such a

personal thing that I was putting out there. I

didn’t mind sharing it with strangers

because they would never know me or

meet me, but sharing it with people I know

is something different. What if they thought

it was weird? And what if I was bad at it? I

mean, I get sucky comments from