The Art of Lainey (33 page)

“I don’t care. Call her and tell her you’re not coming. Tell her I grounded you for letting her take Steve’s car if you want.”

I give my mom a sideways glance. “You want me to lie?”

She winks at me. “You want me to really ground you?”

I call Kendall. She doesn’t answer. I leave a quick voice mail telling her I won’t be able to make the party and asking her to call me back. Then I try Jason.

He picks up right away. “Lainey,” he says, like he’s surprised to hear from me. “What’s going on?”

“Your sister took my brother’s car to some party at Wash U,” I say. “I’m supposed to meet her but now I can’t and she’s
not answering her phone. She’s kind of pissed at me, so that might be all it is, but I feel bad leaving her by herself.”

Jason swears under his breath. “Our dad coming to town has made her half crazy, I think. So far she refuses to even talk about him. Do you know where this party was supposed to be?”

“Like a block off campus on Pershing Avenue? She said it was being thrown by a friend of a friend of someone she met on
So You Think You Can Model.”

“Okay. I’ll track her down. Thanks for calling me.”

“No problem. When you talk to her, tell her I’m sorry.”

“Sure. Hey, we made the play-offs partially thanks to you,” Jason says. “Games the next two Saturdays. Give me a call if you’re interested in filling in.”

“I am completely and utterly interested in filling in,” I say. Maybe it’ll be a little awkward playing with Jason, but if he’s willing to give it a shot, so am I. “Let me just check my Denali schedule and get back to you.”

“Sounds good. I’ll make sure Kendall returns the car in one piece.”

“Thanks, Jay. Bye.”

“So are things back on with Jason?” my mom asks after I hang up the phone. I can tell she’s curious.

“Nah. But hopefully we can be friends.” I fiddle with the buckle of my seat belt.

She turns onto our street. “I see.” She doesn’t press me for details.

Which I bet is hard for her, considering that she prides
herself on being one of those “cool moms” who their kids can talk to. “Have I told you lately how awesome you are?” I ask.

She laughs. “Not in the last five years or so.”

“You’re pretty awesome.” I watch the neighbors’ houses roll by through the passenger window. A sheepdog frolics on one of the front lawns. A dog could be fun. Maybe if I do end up staying in Hazelton to go to college I could get one. That might make living at home worth it.

My mom swings her car around onto our driveway. My dad is out on the lawn watering his herb garden. He swears it has parsley, basil, cilantro, and oregano, but it all looks like the same leafy, green stuff to me.

“How did you know Dad was the guy for you?” I blurt out. These are normally the types of stories I avoid, but it occurs to me that as similar as my parents act sometimes, they’ve definitely got their differences.

My mom chuckles. She turns off the engine but makes no move to get out of the car. “Your grandparents were less than thrilled with my choice,” she starts. “Everyone in my family had gone to college. Your dad was just a high school grad working at his family business.” She exhales long and slow. “I had my own worries, I admit.”

Dad flashes an impish grin at us and turns the hose on the car, sending a thunderous spray of water against the driver’s-side window.

“I can’t imagine why.” I snicker. “So what made you stick with him?”

She looks over at me and her lips quirk into a smile. “I wish I had a concrete answer for you. Like maybe I walked into Denali one day to study and saw your father cutting apart the plastic six-pack rings to save baby animals, and then in that instant I knew it was love.” She pats me on the knee. “But it wasn’t like that. I liked being with him, but there were things that scared me. Then one day none of it seemed to matter anymore.”

My dad disappears into the garage. Mom glances over at me. “Nothing changed, and yet things were different.” She shrugs. “Maybe I changed.”

It makes me think of Micah and me on the patio at Beat—how all of my fears melted away in that moment. How nothing mattered except for being with him. Maybe it’s too late for that, but it can’t be too late for us to be friends.
I guess because some things are worth it.
I’m going to talk to him the next time I see him, even if it scares me.

I slide out of the car and shut the door behind me. “Dad really cuts apart the six-pack rings to save baby animals?”

My mom shakes her head. “No, I saw that in a movie once, but hey, a girl can dream.”

Kendall shows up with Steve’s car—in one piece—around eleven thirty. I’m already in my sweats and ready for bed when I see the headlights slow to a stop outside my window. I peek my head into the study and tell my mom Steve’s car is fine and that I’m going to drive Kendall home. Mom is surrounded by notes and books as usual. “All right,” she says.
“Be careful.”

I intercept Kendall on the way to the porch and steer her back to the Civic. She starts bitching before I even pull away from the curb. “I can’t believe you called Jason.” She slurs her words and I don’t have to lean very close to her to smell the liquor on her breath. “He said if I wasn’t home by midnight he and my dad were going to come find me.”

“I was worried about you, for good reason apparently. I can’t believe you drove my brother’s car drunk.”

She adjusts the passenger seat to make more room for her long legs. “I’m not drunk, Lainey. I just had a few shots. Big deal.”

“Big deal? Are you kidding me?” I back down the driveway and turn out onto our street. “What if you got arrested? What if you got in an accident and killed somebody?”

Kendall tosses her hair back over her shoulders. “What if you stopped being so dramatic?”

“Okay then.” I turn left out of my subdivision and head for the highway. “What if you simply wrecked my brother’s car? He freaking loves this thing like a baby.”

“This piece of shit is probably not even worth five grand.” She stares straight ahead through the windshield. “He needs to get over it.”

“No. You need to get over it,” I say. “Just because you don’t think something is worth caring about, doesn’t mean the rest of us have to agree.”

Her eyes narrow as she glances over at me. “Are we still talking about the car?”

The words strike like a whip, but this isn’t about Micah, and I’m not going to let her bait me. “You know how cops are around here. They won’t just write you the minor possession. You’ll get a DWI too.” I merge on to the highway. “Do you want to get arrested? I know you’re pissed at your dad—”

“Stop trying to play therapist,” Kendall says coolly. “You don’t know shit about my family.”

And that’s Kendall, the girl who lectured me about how best friends should tell each other everything. And like I said, she never tells me anything. Never lets her guard down.

“I could though,” I say softly. “If you would talk to me. I’m trying to be your friend here, K.”

“If you were trying to be my friend, you would’ve come to the party with me tonight. Maybe I wanted to talk to you about my dad, but now I don’t feel like it.” Kendall flips the radio on and makes a face at the music.

Micah’s music.

I turn it off. “Are you kidding me right now? You barely talk to me about your
mom
and you’ve been dealing with her for seventeen years. You don’t confide in anyone ever, do you? Not even Jay. It must be so lonely.” I shake my head. “I just think it’s sad.”

Something about the combination of “lonely” and “sad” ignites a fury in Kendall. “You bitch,” she says. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.
You’d
be sad and lonely if it weren’t for me. No one but your fat little Mexican friend would even
know your name.”

“She is not fat,” I say, feeling rage flare up inside me too. “And I have plenty of my own friends.”

“Yeah. What a bunch of
winners
.”

I take a deep breath and bite my tongue. Kendall is only saying this stuff because she’s drunk and upset. But still, she doesn’t need to be hateful toward people I care about, and it was beyond irresponsible of her to drive my brother’s car all wasted. Maybe Micah is right. Maybe I do make excuses for people’s shitty behavior. As I pull off the highway, I swallow hard and start to tell Kendall she’s out of line, but she’s not finished yet.

“You would be
no one
if it weren’t for me. I introduced you to all the right people, made you go to all the right parties. Basically, I
made
you.”

Did she? When I met Kendall, my entire wardrobe consisted of soccer shorts and sports tees. I was more freckles and braces than human. I spent my free time watching soccer on TV and hanging out with my brother. After she and I were the only freshmen who made varsity, Coach Halstead paired us up a lot and it felt inevitable we’d become friends. But nothing is inevitable with Kendall. It’s all calculated, controlled.

Was she responsible for my popularity?

Maybe.

But I made the team on my own.

Was she responsible for my continued social climbing throughout sophomore and junior year? I think about the
fashion advice, the parties, about her hooking me up with Jason.

Probably.

“You’re right,” I admit. “You made me. But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m remaking myself. And I like the new me better.”

“Good thing,” Kendall spits out. “Because I will see to it no one else does. No one that matters anyway.”

A few weeks ago these words would have terrified me, but now they just sound frail and pathetic. I turn to look at her as I pull into her subdivision. “I get it, you know? I feel for you having to grow up with no dad and a control-freak mom, but that doesn’t give you the right to do and say whatever you want. You’re better than this. I know it.” I sigh. “But lately you’ve been acting just like your mom.” It’s a harsh thing to say, but it’s true, and I can’t hold back anymore.

“Take it back,” Kendall demands. “Take it back or else.”

I turn into her driveway and shift into
PARK
. Part of me wants to take it back. Part of me wants to apologize, to forget the hateful things she’s said tonight. To just wash them away because she’s obviously upset and I don’t want to lose her from my life. But I didn’t say anything wrong. She’s the one who needs to apologize.

“Good night,” I say.

Kendall unclicks her seat belt and slides out of the car. For a moment, she stands there, her face half rage and half shock as I pull the car door closed and back out of her
driveway.

I’m actually trembling as I make my way through her neighborhood and back to the highway. It’s like walking away from Jason all over again. Almost without thinking, I turn the car toward Denali. Funny how all roads seem to lead there.

I pull into the parking lot right after midnight. The lights are still on, but I can see through the window that the front of the coffee shop is empty. Everyone must be clocking out. Micah’s car isn’t here, but Bianca’s is. Also Ebony’s and Leo’s. After having it out with Kendall, all I want to do is give Bee a hug and thank her again for being such an amazing friend.

I watch the three of them appear from the back and pass through the dining area. The door opens and Bianca steps out into the night. She looks insanely gorgeous in her Denali tee and long skirt. The wind blows shiny ribbons of black hair around her face. I start to call out to her, but then she opens her mouth and I can tell she’s laughing, even though I can’t hear it. Leo follows behind her. He takes her hand and she leans in close to him. There’s no way I can disturb this moment.

Instead I wait until everyone has left and then pull out of the lot. The street is deserted. Only the whisper of wind and the reflection of the metallic lane markers keep me company. I know where I am driving, but I’m not sure why. Micah is not going to just be sitting outside at midnight waiting for me.

Sure enough, when I loop past his apartment building there is no sign of life. The Beast is parked out front. I berate myself for being a stalker. Fine, I need to apologize to him, to see if we can at least be friends, but that doesn’t mean I have to do it right that second. But I don’t want to go home yet either.

I return to the deserted Denali parking lot and pull the Civic into Micah’s usual spot. It’s lame, but just being parked there makes me feel a little closer to him.

As I slouch down in my seat, my foot hits something on the floorboard. I bend down to grab it. It’s Kendall’s flask—I’ve seen her bring it to parties before. I twirl it around in my hands a few times before I uncap it and take a long swig. Whatever it is, it’s too strong, but it numbs the heavy feeling in my stomach. Being friends with Micah is not going to be good enough. I should have just told him how I felt about him. So many chances—at The Devil’s Doorstep, at Beat, at the soccer game, at Denali. So many lost opportunities because I couldn’t figure out what I wanted, because I was scared. I close my eyes and see Micah and me out on the back patio at Beat, his head on my shoulder, his fingers rubbing the pointy bone in my wrist.
I like you too.
Why would he say that if he was getting back together with Amber?

I take a few more sips from Kendall’s flask without really thinking about it. The steering wheel starts to blur before my eyes. Shit. What am I doing? I just yelled at Kendall for drinking and driving. Now I’m stuck here, unless I want to walk home alone in the dark.
Smart, Lainey. Real smart.

Oh, well. I’m in no hurry to get home anyway. I’ll just hang out here in the car for a little while, until my head clears. I recline my seat and get comfortable. My eyelids flutter closed. I’ll just rest my eyes until the whole world stops spinning. I won’t actually go to sleep.

Only I do.

Until someone yanks my car door open with such force that I almost tumble out into the parking lot.