Babe in Boyland (19 page)

I start to cry. I can’t help it. “Thanks, you guys.”

“Now, can we stop stroking your ego and go to Josh’s already?” Chloe looks at her watch. “Even the chips and salsa will be gone if we wait much longer.”

I wipe my tears away and stand up. My gaze lands on Nat in the mirror. He’s a part of me, I guess, just like every role I’ve ever played is a part of me. He’s not a lie—not really. I still feel kind of sad and mixed up, but Chloe’s right. We’ve got to get to Josh’s. Erica’s probably there already, and I can’t risk disappointing her and Emilio both by standing her up.

I raise a fist. “Let’s get this party started.”

Chapter Twenty-one

J
osh’s party is huge and completely out of control. His parents own a massive house on Strawberry Point overlooking Richardson Bay. I’ve heard the sisters are both in college and the parents are vacationing in Venice, so the house is empty—well, empty aside from the hundred-plus intoxicated teenagers pouring in like a swarm of locusts.

As we walk into the living room, the bass beat is so loud it thrums inside my chest. There are kids dancing on the couches, on the chairs and ottomans and tabletops; a tall skinny guy I don’t recognize dangles precariously from the spiral staircase. Bottles, plastic cups, cans, and mostly devoured hors d’oeuvres already sprawl across every surface. Man, I’d hate to be the one cleaning this place tomorrow. Then again, a house like this probably comes with an army of domestic servants ready to swoop in and restore it to its original luster before Josh has even finished his first cup of coffee.

Right away, I notice there are lots of people from Mountain View High here—too many for comfort. Someone could easily recognize me. I guess if I manage to finish this article and publish it, everyone who reads our school paper will know about Nat Rodgers. Still, I’m not prepared to be outed here in front of my Underwood posse. Maybe I should give up my Story of the Year aspirations and let Nat die a quick, anonymous death after tonight. That might soothe my guilt about lying to Emilio and everyone else at Underwood. I could wait a couple months, let my hair grow, then figure out a way to meet up with Emilio as Natalie. Would he recognize me as his old roommate if I wasn’t in a wig and heavy makeup? Could I level with him if he did?

I resolve to work all of that out later. The immediate danger is being recognized here by someone in the Mountain View High cohort; that would limit my options severely. The scene is so chaotic and bacchanal I might escape notice, but I don’t want to count on that. Darcy’s wearing a hound’s-tooth fedora, so I snatch that and put it on, pulling it down low so it practically covers my eyes.

“Hey!” Darcy complains. “What are you doing?”

“Too many Mountain View High kids.” I lean close to her ear to be heard over the din. “Don’t want to be recognized.”

She looks miffed, but apparently sees the necessity. Finger-fluffing her hot pink hair, she doesn’t bother with a response. Chloe leads us through the drunken throngs into a spacious and slightly less crowded kitchen, where Josh is pouring tequila shots for a bevy of scantily clad girls, none of whom look familiar. One of them downs a shot and Josh places a slice of lime between her glossy lips. This might not be too incriminating, except that he does it with his teeth.

Darcy and I exchange a quick look before gauging Chloe’s reaction. She spins on her heel and walks back out.

“Guess you called that,” Darcy says in a low voice.

“I’m not going to tell her ‘I told you so.’”

“Good thinking.”

We catch up with Chloe in a room upstairs that might be someone’s office. There are bookshelves on one wall and a desk in the corner. It’s quieter than the living room. French doors lead to a high deck overlooking the bay. I spot Erica and Emilio outside, leaning against the railing. Just seeing them stirs up a dust storm of nerves inside me. They’re the whole reason I’m here, though. Obviously I’ve got to go out there.

I look at Chloe. She’s chewing on her lip and staring at the ceiling with intense concentration, as if the answers to all of life’s burning questions are about to be answered up there.

“You okay?” I ask quietly.

She nods, but goes on looking at the ceiling. Her teeth bite down on her lip so hard that the skin there turns white.

I turn to Darcy, who gives me the
I’ll handle this
look. I flash her a grateful half smile and indicate Emilio out on the porch. She nods in understanding. It’s amazing how much information can pass between us without a single word.

Dismissed, though still a little worried about Chloe, I head outside onto the deck. I tell myself the Erica-Emilio situation is more pressing; besides, I’m the last person Chloe wants witnessing her distress, since she blatantly ignored my Josh-alarms. Outside, the air is cool on my face; there’s a thin layer of fog hovering over the water, and the air smells like seaweed. Emilio spots me first, and then Erica follows his gaze, a radiant smile lighting up her face when she recognizes me. The smile throws me. After my rude escape last night, I should think she’d be scowling. It would be just my luck if ditching her added to my Nat personae an alluring air of mystery. What a tangled web I weave! Another sharp pang of guilt shoots through me, but I ignore it.

“What’s going on, bro?” Emilio reaches out a hand.

“Nothing much.” As our palms slide against each other briefly, I remember the kiss tonight onstage and how electric it was, how right it felt. I force myself to focus on Erica. “How are you?”

“I’m all right.” She leans back against the railing, her expression slightly guarded. “You sure did disappear in a hurry last night.”

“Yeah, I’m so sorry about that. I meant to call you.”

“That’s okay. Emilio told me about your condition.”

I raise my eyebrows, glance at Emilio. “Did he really?”

She nods. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. A lot of people have irritable bowel syndrome. I’m taking a nutrition class online right now, and we learned all about it. You should alter your diet, though. Definitely cut out the coffee.”

“Oh. Yeah. Good idea.”

Emilio’s fighting a smile. “Nat, looks like you could use a drink. What can I get you?”

“Something that won’t exacerbate my condition,” I say pointedly.

“Nothing alcoholic, carbonated, or caffeinated,” Erica advises.

“Well then. I guess I’ll have water.”

“Erica? You ready for a refill?” he asks.

She looks at her red plastic cup, hands it to him. “I’ll have another beer, I guess.”

As Emilio makes his way across the porch and into the house, I watch him, filled with longing. I’m so going to miss him. God, this is hopeless. There’s no way I’ll get a chance to say good-bye—not tonight, not ever.

I turn my attention back to Erica. “Did you see the show?”

“Yeah. I went with my mom. She’s in town for the night.”

“Right, that’s what Emilio said. Did you like it?”

She laughs. “Uh-huh. I couldn’t believe how that girl stepped in at the last second. She was really good!”

I look at my shoes, hoping my face doesn’t show how much this pleases me. “I heard about that. You thought she did okay?”

“She did great! Emilio said she’s your cousin.”

“Yep. Natalie.”

She studies me intently for a moment. “You two kind of look alike.”

“You think?”

“Except she’s a lot prettier.” She punches my arm lightly.

“Do you think, um, Emilio liked her?”

Erica’s eyes light up. “We should fix them up!”

I pretend to consider this. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“I don’t really like that girl Summer.”

“No.” I shake my head. “She’s stuck-up. Plus she has a boyfriend. He can do way better.”

“The four of us should go out sometime.” She flashes a quick, flirty grin.

“Mmm . . . that’s an idea.”
That’s never going to happen.

Without any warning, she tugs my hand, pulling me closer. I look around in alarm. Then I feel her fingers running up and down my arm. “I really like you, Nat.”

“Uh, I like you too.”

“You’re so easy to talk to. I feel a connection with you . . .” When I don’t say anything she adds, “You know what I mean?”

“Sure.”
Think, Natalie, think! You have to stop this before it goes any further.
“Listen, it’s only fair to tell you that I’m not really looking for a relationship. I mean, you’re very sweet, and you deserve someone as cool as you . . .”

“But you’re not that guy, right?” she asks, her tone suddenly bitter.

“No, I’m not.”
In more ways than you can possibly imagine.
“But I’m sure he’s out there.”

Tears sparkle on her lashes as she searches my face. “You’re not even going to give me a chance?”

God, how did this get so intense so quickly? Suddenly I understand the freak-and-flee instinct I’ve always found despicable in guys. I look into her eyes, willing her to understand, though of course the situation is so convoluted that’s patently impossible. “Please, Erica, just—”

Suddenly she snakes her arms around my neck, pulls me to her, and kisses me. This isn’t a gentle I-understand-and-we’ll-always-be-friends peck on the cheek, either. This is a look-out-sugar-’cause-I’m-going-to-rock-your-world kiss. I taste lipstick and beer and tongue and start to pull away in a panic, but she has her hands clamped to the back of my neck. She’s surprisingly strong, and it’s clear I’m not going anywhere until she’s had her way with me.

After what seems like forever, I hear somebody clearing his throat. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Erica lets go and we both jerk around to see Emilio smirking at us, carrying two plastic cups.

“You’re not interrupting.” I wipe my mouth as casually as I can.

“No, I definitely am.” Emilio winks as he hands me my water and Erica her beer. “I’ll leave you alone in a minute so you can pick up where you left off.”

Ew! I now officially want to die.

Erica slaps his arm playfully. “Shut up!”

He grins. “You won’t believe who just showed.”

“Who?” I’m eager to change the subject.

Instead of answering, he turns and peers through the French doors. “She was right behind me. Stopped to talk with Darcy and Chloe for a second.”

My stomach feels like it just stepped onto an elevator and plummeted thirty floors. It’s okay, I tell myself. Summer’s in LA. It can’t possibly be her.

“Who?” I repeat, only this time through clenched teeth.

“I told her all about your cousin, what a great job she did. It’s such a drag Natalie couldn’t come to—”

“Who?” I practically scream.

He gives me an odd look. “Summer. She finished her audition and came back early. She didn’t get the part, and she’s pissed. First thing she did when she got here was down three shots of vodka. Better not ask about—”

“I’ve got to go.” I pull the fedora lower and start for the French doors.

“Hold on!” He grabs my arm. “When I told her about your cousin she said she really wanted to meet you.”

“Sorry. Can’t.”

Erica looks hurt. “Where are you going?”

I don’t bother to respond. Enough with the lies already. It’s better just to shut up and bolt. I look from Erica back to Emilio. I stare for a moment into his eyes, tortured by everything I can’t say. Then I turn to go.

I force my way through the French doors and navigate the office, which has gotten more crowded. Someone’s smoking a clove cigarette, and the cloying scent makes me cough. I push on, using my arms to part the crowd, shoving gently when needed, barely seeing where I’m going. All I know is, I can’t let Summer spot me. She’ll figure out what happened and tell everyone. God, why did I even come to this stupid party at all? I can’t believe Erica kissed me!

My mind swirls like a snow globe given a good hard shake. Half-formed thoughts carom off one another. I pick up speed, shoving people out of the way less gently now as my heart throbs in my ears. Partiers turn angry faces on me when I push them aside. One girl with scary, painted-on eyebrows and bright magenta lips barks, “Watch it, buddy!” A pink-faced guy with a unibrow shoves me back, and I barely manage to regain my balance before scuttling on.

I pause at the second-floor landing overlooking the vast, open living room and kitchen below. Leaning against the balcony to catch my breath, I scan the scene for Summer. Downstairs the party has reached fever pitch; the music’s cranked and dancers writhe against each other like worms packed together in a jar. Just looking at them gives me a tight, claustrophobic feeling in my chest. Getting through there will be almost impossible; there must be a back door. Once I’m safely outside, I’ll text Chloe and Darcy so we can get out of here.

“Nat!” I jerk around and see Emilio pushing his way toward me, with Erica right behind him. “Wait up!”

It kills me to ignore him, but I have no choice. Concentrate, Natalie. Just focus on getting to the stairs and finding an exit. Don’t think, don’t feel, just go.

I’ve got my head down and have only taken a couple steps when a terrifying sight stops me dead in my tracks. There, blocking my path, is a pair of pale brown knee-high Dolce & Gabbana boots.

Summer.

“So
this
is the notorious Nat.” She’s wearing a pale pink dress and a filmy scarf. Her upper lip curls with snide pleasure. “I knew you were up to something.”

Behind her, Chloe and Darcy appear, panting slightly.

“We tried to stop her,” Darcy mouths.

It’s over. By now, Emilio and Erica have caught up too. Emilio’s expression is still injured and perplexed, but he tries to smooth it over. “So you two met.”