Party (21 page)

Beckett didn’t say anything. She just stared out at the
ocean, watching the sun come up like it was the first time she’d ever seen it.

“Beck?”

“She’s dead.”

A shudder raced down my back, ice cold. “Wait,
what?”

“In February. Cancer.”

Holy hell
. I put my arms around her, sideways, and pulled her close. “God, Beckett! I’m so sorry. Are you serious?”

“Pretty serious. Yeah.”

“Oh, god.” I squeezed her, expecting her to start crying any second. She tilted her head so it rested against mine. When she didn’t start crying, it dawned on me that she’d had five-some months to cry already. It wasn’t news to
her
. I felt my eyes fill up with tears of my own. Jennifer was so awesome.

“Cancer?” I said, like a total idiot. Like I hadn’t heard her perfectly.

“Yeah,” Beck said softly, and ran a hand over her knitted hat. “One of the nurses at the hospital made her this. When her, you know … hair started falling out? She never really wore it much, though. So I borrowed it. Sort of.”

God. Kids at school thought she was selling pot or something, had gone all reggae. I’d never believed it, but it’d crossed my mind.
God
, we’re dumb sometimes.

“You’ve been living with your dad?” I asked her, sort of rubbing her back with one hand and using the other to wipe tears off my eyelashes.

Another pause.

“Not exactly,” Beck said finally. “He never came back. I’m
not even sure he knows.
I
never told him, anyway. I don’t know where he is. Seattle, maybe.”

“Well—who, then?”

She dipped her head.

Oh, god. “Beck … you’ve been by yourself this whole time?”

She nodded, slow.

“
How?
What have you been living on?”

“Mom’s savings, mostly,” Beckett said. “But it’s almost gone, so I’ll … drop out and get a job. I’m going to start looking on Monday.” She held up the business card she’d been playing with. “Coffee Cat, maybe.”

I turned my face away from her, letting this sink in. Jennifer Montgomery, the next best mom I could’ve asked for—so cool with her recording studio and record contract, always happy and smiling—was gone. And Beckett didn’t tell me. Didn’t let me in.

What I said next surprised even me.

“How fucking dare you.”

Her head shot up. “What?”

I faced her again. God, I was
furious
. “How could you not tell me? Tell
someone?
What the hell is the matter with you?”

Beckett blinked in shock. I guess I didn’t blame her. Most people would have expected sympathy. Well, I was sympathetic. And she was a dumbass.

“I—didn’t—”

“Didn’t
what?
Want to cause
a fuss?
You’ve been living by yourself for five months with both your parents gone, walking
around school without saying a word to
anyone
, and it didn’t occur to you that maybe I could
help?
What did I
do
to you?”

“Nothing! Nothing, Ashley, I just … I don’t know …”

“I called you, dammit. You know I did. And you wouldn’t call me back. Jesus, Beckett, do you even know what happened to Mike?”

“Mike?”

“Yes, Mike
Lincoln
, Antho’s brother? God, Beckett, he’s back home now. He lost both of his legs and his right hand when he was serving. Why do you think Antho’s season went to hell? That’s probably why he went ballistic against that guy tonight.”

Beckett covered her mouth. “But Antho didn’t say—”

“You weren’t there to say anything to.”

Her hand dropped. “I was taking care of my
dying mother
, Ashley!”

“And who was taking care of you? God, why couldn’t we just
talk
to each other?”

Beckett turned away. To be honest, it sort of felt good to have her show some emotion for once.

I poked holes in the sand with my fingers, thinking non-thoughts. The past two years became crystal clear. The unreturned calls, the way she avoided talking to people; I knew without even asking that Jennifer must have gotten sick before we started sophomore year. That was why the sudden change in Beckett. Why when we started class that year, she’d gone from being this fun, bubbly chick to a total downer who wouldn’t talk to a soul.

God
.

“So that’s why you stopped hanging out with us?” I asked. “Antho and Mike, and my whole family? Because she got sick?”

“Yes,” Beck said, and didn’t sound angry anymore. “She told me not to say anything, so I didn’t.”

“You still could’ve talked to us, just … I don’t know, in
general.”

“She was a musician, Ash. Not a lot of money coming in. I had to take care of her.”

“By yourself.”

“There were nurses, sometimes. Like this one lady, Joyous, the woman who knit this for Mom.” Beck touched her tam again. “She was from Jamaica and she was sort of a fan of …”

Beck stopped and looked out across the ocean.
Mom’s music
, she was going to say, it was pretty clear.

“But it was just the two of you?”

“For the most part, yeah. Except for the doctors and nurses. Yeah. Just us.”

I heard Morrigan shouting over the waves from behind us. “HEY! YOU WANT COFFEE OR WHAT, BITCHES?”

I waved yes, then sat back on my hands. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry she’s gone, and I’m sorry that I yelled at you like that.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. Beckett, you can’t do this by yourself.”

“I did plenty by myself. So I have to work. No big. No one’ll miss me at school anyway.”

I shook my head. “Martyr.”

Her eyes went wide. “What—”

“Look, I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, okay? No concept. But to just hide it all away like that, it’s insane. I would have helped you.”

Beckett flicked sand off her toes. “You had Morrigan.”

“Oh, that’s right, I’m incapable of having more than one friend at a time. Thanks.”

Beckett’s hands balled into fists.
“How can you talk to me like this?”

“Well, Jesus H., woman, I’m happy we’re talking at all.”

And I was, but I was also pissed. I got the impression that this must be what a parent feels like when their kid disappears in a grocery store, and how it feels when you find them again. So grateful they’re back safe you can’t stop hugging them, and so pissed you want to smack them.

I waited for her to get up and run off, but she didn’t. I would have stopped her, somehow, if she did. But she stayed put, wincing up at the cloudy rising sun.

Morrigan walked up and sat down beside me, balancing three plates on top of each other, apparently not caring that two stacks of pancakes were being squished. In her other hand she carried a drink carton with three coffees, and passed us each a large Styrofoam cup.

“So what’s up with you two? Who died?”

Oh for fuck’s sake, Morrigan. I swear.

Beckett made this choking sound and turned her head hard to the right, bringing up one hand to cover her mouth again.
Her shoulders shook and jerked, trying to keep the sound in. No good; her lips blew against her palm, breath snorted out her nose …

And then she burst out laughing. I hadn’t heard that sound in forever, but it hadn’t changed a bit.

Morrigan giggled uncertainly. “Wh-what?”

Beckett fell back against the sand, eyes squeezed tight, and laughed her little ass off. It was too infectious, and soon Morrigan and I were laughing too as Morrigan kept asking, “What? What is it? What?”

I lost track of time for a while there as we rolled in the sand and cried from laughing so hard. Finally we were able to pull ourselves back up and pick up our plates, wiping our eyes with sandy hands.

“Is someone going to tell me what the hell we were laughing at?” Morrigan asked, sniffling snot back into her nose. She hawked up a wad of phlegm and spat it into the sand, sticking out her tongue and going
bleee-aagh!
afterward.

“Later,” I said, shaking my head, still grinning, and casting a glance at Beckett. She was smiling too, her face red and tears streaking her cheeks.

“It can wait,” Beckett said to Morrigan, but she was looking at me when she spoke.

“Whatev,” Morrigan said, and we attacked our breakfast. It was the best food I’d ever tasted.

We avoided talk about the party, focusing instead—with some unspoken agreement—on things like teachers who rocked or sucked, students who rocked or sucked, and other
people who rocked or sucked. I did notice by the time we’d finished eating that more people in each category rocked than sucked by our very strictest of standards. These standards tended to include color of socks and general aroma.

“Speaking of boys,” Morrigan said, even though we weren’t, exactly, “what’s up with your skater dude, anyway?” Like that whole bit in the car about Max and me had never happened. There’s hope for that girl yet.

Beckett blushed. “Nothing,” she said quickly. “At least, nothing right now. I don’t know. We just met last night.”

“Uh-huh
.
”
Morrigan arched an eyebrow. “You going to see him again?”

“Tonight,” Beckett said, barely audible, and both Morry and I went,
“Oooooooo!”
which made Beckett blush even harder.
So
cute.

“What about you?” Beck asked Morry. “Aren’t you seeing someone?”

Well, crap. So much for that fun mood. But to my surprise, Morrigan hardly grimaced.

“Not anymore.”

Beckett looked to me for guidance, but I didn’t offer any. I guess I wanted to see how they’d both handle the subject.

“How come?” Beckett said tentatively.

Morrigan took a sip from her coffee. “Mostly because I’m a bitch.”

“Did something … happen between you?” Beckett asked softly, then shook her head. “I mean, if you don’t want to talk about—”

“I just wanted to know he was there.”

Beckett and I both looked at her. Morrigan sighed, looking out over the ocean.

“Basically, I wanted to sleep with him, and he didn’t. But I think maybe it didn’t really have anything to do with him. I just wanted to know … that …”

“… That he loved you?”

“I didn’t
care
if he loved me,” Morrigan said bitterly. “That’s just it. I only cared if he
saw
me. See, my dad, he never touches me. Never talks to me. Mom’s not much better. I’m like this leper, you know? So when I was with Josh, I just figured feeling something was better than nothing.”

Morrigan looked down at the sand. “God, listen to me. I have Daddy issues. How stupid, huh?”

“At least he’s still there,” Beck said.

Morrigan scowled and took a deep breath, and looked about ready to incinerate Beckett. Her eyes got hard and steely, like they do when she’s ready to unload on someone.

But then she held her breath, hesitated, and exhaled slowly.

“Well, clearly I can’t really argue with
you
on this point,” she said.

It was my turn to blush; of course I’d mentioned to Morrigan that Beckett’s dad had taken off when I talked about her, but now it sounded like I was talking behind her back. Which I guess technically I was. But I didn’t want Beck to get upset about it.

But Beckett only folded her arms across her stomach, like the pancakes were starting to give her a bellyache or something. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad,” she said.
“Seriously, that’s not what I mean at all. And I’m not saying your mom and dad aren’t wrong to ignore you like that. That’s not cool. I mean, totally, that’s messed up.”

Beckett hesitated, looking like she felt she’d already said too much.

“But they are there,” she finished.

Morrigan grunted. “Huh. Okay, I’m queen bitch of the galaxy, I get it.”

“I’m sorry—” Beckett began, but I held up a hand to stop her.

“No,” I said. “Don’t be.” I poked Morrigan in the arm. “Beck’s got a point. Hug them anyway. Sooner or later they have to do it back.”

“And if they don’t?”

“I don’t know. But it beats the crap out of getting grounded all summer for sneaking out.”

Morrigan snorted and fought a grin. Her head began to shake slowly from side to side.

“I fucked up,” she stated. “I fucked up so bad, you guys.”

You guys.

Like we’d all three been friends forever. Like she didn’t remember—and maybe she didn’t—how she’d treated Beckett all night.

That was fine with me.

“How so?” I asked, because let’s face it, Morry’d fed up a lot of things the past twelve hours.

“With Josh. I didn’t give him a chance, I never brought it up before last week. I just got bent and broke it off.”

I put a hand on Morry’s shoulder. “It’s not too late,” I said.
“You could call him. I mean, it might be weird after what happened tonight, but. Still. You could. You could totally explain the whole thing with Ryan.”

“Wouldn’t change anything,” Morry said. “I’d still be me. I’d still be wanting something he can’t give me.”

Her pretty brown eyes narrowed to slits. “Wait, what whole thing with Ryan?”

“Oh, Morry. You had quite a night.”

“With
Ryan?
Ryan
Brunner?
What, I jumped his bones?”

“Tried to. Josh walked in and saw you.”

“Oh,
god.”
Morrigan let her head fall again. “Will someone please fucking shoot me in the head? Right now. Just do it. You mean I made out with Ryan and I don’t even remember?”

“You didn’t make out with him, you just tried to.”

“Oh, well, gee. Something else I couldn’t get right.”

And then the girl started to laugh. It sounded kind of like she was spitting out milk or something. But she laughed loud, no holding back. I couldn’t stop myself from grinning, and I saw Beckett fighting a nervous smile herself.

“How do I even make it through the day?” Morrigan said, still chuckling a little. “This is why I shouldn’t drink.”

“Amen to that, you freakin’ barf factory.”

“Okay,
that
I remember. And, um,
ew!
Next topic.”

But we were out of topics at that point. We sat quietly and watched the waves gently crashing against the shore for a little while. After my head snapped up because I’d started falling asleep, I stood and told them it was time to go. I was
wiped
.