Party (20 page)

“Blegh,” Morrigan said.

“You can say that again,” I told her.

“Blegh,” Morrigan said.

“Right,” I said, and shut the door.

I walked around to the other side of the car, but stopped as I saw Beckett a little ways up the street talking to that guy Max. Amazing. I’ve never seen her talk to
anyone
since
freshman year. I’d asked Max out once before, but he’d declined. He was nice about it, though.

I got in the car and started the engine. Morrigan held up a hand and said, “Wait.”

Morrigan opened her mouth, and I thought,
Oh, god, not in the car, please not in my dad’s car
. It’s not that Dad would be mad, but I’d be the one to clean it up.

Morrigan let out this raw, juicy belch that curdled her lips and looked like it probably tasted as bad as it sounded.

She dropped her hand with a content sigh. “Okay,” she said. “Carry on.”

“Dork,” I said, and started rolling down the street. “You sobered up now?”

“Sadly, I think so. Blegh.”

I was going very slowly, as people from the party were all evacuating to their various cars. People turned in front of me with their vehicles or stumbled across the street. I noticed Ryan Brunner off to one side of the front yard talking into his cell phone, and making pleading gestures to absolutely no one. Talking to Josh, I guessed. I hoped they worked everything out; it was a hell of a dumb way to lose a friend. And Ryan’d been very nice tonight, all things considered.

Because of all the foot traffic and people trying to drive away at once, it made getting down the street something of a chore. I didn’t mind. It gave me time to watch Beckett and Max.

I was pretty disappointed the night turned out the way it had. This whole thing with Antho and that kid Azize, that was
messed up. Anthony had always been a great guy. Then Morrigan and her—what do you call it—
attempted dalliance
with Ryan … that must’ve sent poor Josh screaming for cover. I hoped she’d explain it to him, regardless of their dating status.

But really, most of all, I was disappointed because Beckett had shown up to the party out of nowhere, and I had barely said ten words to her, after all this time. That sucked. And I hated that I’d yelled at her earlier, even if she did seem to have forgotten or forgiven me by the time I walked up to her and Max on the sidewalk. I didn’t mean to yell at her on the patio; it was just so frustrating having her stand there not looking at me, not talking to me, like she’d rather be anywhere else in the world.

Of course, my dearest best girl Morrigan might’ve had a little to do with that.
Girls
, honestly.

I was glad to see Beck at least talking to someone. And I meant it when I said I’d call her. Maybe she’d even answer this time. I knew her mom’s number was in the phone book, which I’d have to look up since my phone was out of commission. Despite her refusal to call me back, I hadn’t ever deleted her number. I can be too optimistic for my own good sometimes.

Hell with it, I thought. I’m going to make sure she knows I’m serious about talking again. Whether she wants to or not. Plus who knew what kind of trouble Antho was in, and he might need our help. She couldn’t turn her back on
him
, too. At least, I didn’t think so.

I stopped the car opposite her and Max and rolled the window down.

“So, um … maybe I’ll see you around?” Max was saying.

He looked so hopeful it was almost mythically tragic. I honestly expected Beck to blow him off. She’d do it nicely, but she’d do it. She’d done it to me and Antho. But anyone who could help Morrigan to her feet after the way she’d behaved toward Beckett wasn’t someone who could be the bitch Morrigan accused her of.

“Okay,” Beckett said, and I thought, Here it comes. Brace yourself, dude.

“Would you … call me?” Beckett asked.

Max looked exactly as shocked as I felt. He recovered quickly.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, absolutely,” he said. “Um. Yeah!”

“Okay. Maybe we can do coffee.”

“Yeah, sure, perfect! Um … when’s good?”

“I don’t know—tomorrow night?”

I felt myself nod. Yes! Tomorrow night! Good job, Beck.

“Tomorrow night, yeah,” Max said. “That’ll work. Cool. Oh, um—I guess I need your number.”

Beckett gave it to him, and Max punched it into his phone.

“All right,” he said, and smiled. I remembered then why I’d asked him out—he was nice, and he was
hot
. Instead I ended up with the catastrophe that was Todd. Well, that wasn’t Max’s fault.

“Awesome,” he said. “I mean, cool. All right. Cool. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then. Beckett.” He said her name like an afterthought, like he was trying it out.

“Cool. See ya, Max.”

I wouldn’t have thought his smile could get any bigger, but it did. Max nodded once, big-time triumphant, then ran full steam back up the sidewalk to the house where the party had been. I watched in the mirrors as he took a skateboard from his friend Brent, dropped the board to the ground, and skated into the darkness. He popped an awesome ollie on his way. I wondered if he ever surfed.

“Well,” I said out the window, and let it come out a little
saucy
, “looks like everyone’s having quite a night.”

Beckett jumped, like I’d startled her. She blushed and hugged her bag to her chest.

“Oh, hey,” she said, and watched Max disappear down the street.

“Listen, you need a ride or something?” I said. “I got to take Morry home anyway. It wouldn’t be a problem.” Not a problem because I assumed Morrigan was already passed out. She was never that quiet for that long otherwise.

Beckett studied me for a second, then turned some sort of business card over in her fingers. It was shiny on both sides and caught the light from a streetlamp. Finally she hustled over to the car and got into the backseat.

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

“No problem,” I said, and waited again as another car pulled in front of me.

Morrigan sat up and looked over her shoulder at Beck. Still awake after all.

“Oh,” she said. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Beck said, just a whisper.

Morrigan turned to me, studying, but I just kept my eyes on the road. After a sec, Morry looked away.

“Hold up!”

I tapped the brakes and watched in the rearview mirror as Anthony jogged toward us. I put the car into park and jumped out of the car and into his arms.

I hugged him close. “Are you okay?” I said into his arm.

“I’m fine,” Anthony said, squeezing me tight.

“What happened, are you going to jail?”

“Naw,” Anthony said, releasing me. “It got worked out.”

“How? What did they say you did?”

Antho touched the back of his head, and I noticed it had been bandaged. “I got into it with this kid,” he said. “It wasn’t cool. I messed up bad, Ash.”

“Okay, but how?”

“Ash, it’s a long story and I’m wiped out. I just wanted to let you know everything was okay.”

Beckett opened her door and stood up, staring up at Antho. “He’s okay,” she said, and I’d never heard her voice so bitter. “In case you wanted to know.”

Antho looked upset. “Beck … damn, girl.”

Anthony took a step toward her, opening his arms, but Beckett hunched her shoulders. Antho stopped.

“The only reason you’re not in jail right now is because Azize lied.”

“But why would he do that?” I asked her.

Beck was looking at Antho when she answered. “Because he’s a good guy,” she said. But she emphasized the
good
, not the guy; like he was a superhero or something.

Antho sort of winced. “You friends with him?”

Beck nodded. I was stunned. I didn’t know she talked to anyone, period.

“There’s blood on your shirt,” Beckett added.

Antho looked down at his Raiders jersey. Beck was right; a few smears of red glistened on the silver numbers.

“Whose is it?” Beckett said, her lips all tight.

Antho looked at his hands like he was seeing them for the first time, then touched the back of his head. “Both of us,” he said.

Beckett shut up.

Anthony peered down at her. “You tell him something from me?”

“Okay.”

“Tell him I’ll make it right.”

Beckett kicked one sandal against the street. “How?”

“Get a job this summer. Pay for his bills. I’ll work next year if I have to.”

“Wait,” I said. “What about football camp? Isn’t that in August?”

Antho shrugged. “S’all good.”

Beckett looked at him again, then slowly nodded. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll tell him that. Thanks.”

“You mind givin’ me a hug now, stranger?”

Beckett moved over to him and Anthony hugged her. “Where you been?”

“Busy.”

“Busy, huh?” He let her go. “What you two doin’ hangin’ out? I thought you were all pissed at each other or something.”

Beck and me looked at each other. I guess neither one of us knew what to say.

Antho sort of grinned and reached out to touch Beckett’s knit hat. “So where’d you get this thing, anyway?” he asked, like trying to change the subject.

Beckett’s hand touched the tam. I’d noticed her starting to wear it a few months or so ago.

“It’s Mom’s,” she said.

“Cool,” Antho said. “Hey, tell her I said—”

A car honked behind us, trying to get past. Antho looked back over his shoulder, waved quickly to the driver, and turned back to us.

“I should go,” Antho said. “But we all need to hang out, huh?”

“Totally,” I said, shooting a glance to Beck.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “Okay.”

Antho stepped backward. “Maybe we can barbecue or something, huh? Take it easy, ya’ll. Don’t be gettin’ in no more catfights, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, and waved, relieved that he was okay and not going to prison or something.

Anthony walked into the darkness as Beck and I got back into the car. Our path was free now, and I edged the car down to Shoreline.

And talk about
silence
.

“Well, that’s cool it all got worked out,” I said, checking my rearview for Beck’s reaction.

“Yeah” was all she said.

I cleared my throat. Time to change the subject. “So … you and Max, huh?”

“I don’t know,” Beck said, watching the gray June Gloom start to envelop town as the sun tried to rise. I heard her playing with the business card, wiping the edge up and down her fingers.

Morrigan chose that moment to rouse herself. “Max,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Gee, Ash, didn’t he ask you out once?”

God
, I wanted to slap her silly.

“No,” I said.

“Huh. Oh, right, you asked
him
out.”

Dammit, Morrigan.

“It was a while ago and it wasn’t a big deal. He’s a nice guy. His friend’s kind of a jerk, but Max is sweet.” I looked in the rearview mirror. “He really is,” I added.

Beck nodded absently.

“You know—” Morrigan started, and I jumped in to cut her off. I didn’t know what she was going to say, but I knew I didn’t want to hear it.

“It’s been a
really
long night, Mor,” I said. “And some really messed-up things happened, many of which you were directly or indirectly responsible for, so let’s just be cool, okay?” I was still deciding whether or not to tell her, or Beckett, that it was her damn bottle of Jack that got the whole ball rolling.

Morrigan stared at me, like I
had
slapped her. “Okay,” she said quickly. “Sure.” She glanced back at Beckett. “Sound like a plan to you?”

“Um. Okay,” Beck said.

And we hit the mute button again. It stayed quiet for about ten minutes, almost all the way to Morrigan’s house, who I had already decided I was totally taking home first. I love her to death, but I was absolutely on my last nerve. Too much had gone wrong.

So when Morrigan broke the silence, what she said couldn’t have surprised me more.

“You all hungry?” she said. “’Cause I’m frickin’ starving. Let’s get some breakfast or something.” She sounded much more awake. Second wind, I guess.

I turned her idea over in my head. I felt like a zombie, but I was pretty hungry, too. And if Morry was wanting to make peace with Beckett, I didn’t want to miss it.

“Sure, sounds good,” I said. “What about East Beach Grill?”

“Ohhhhh,” Beckett and Morrigan said in accidental unison, like it was the best idea anyone ever had. I had to laugh at them.

A second later, they sort of giggled, too. Not much—but enough.

“You sure you can go?” I asked Morrigan, although I had already taken a right turn that took us in that direction and away from her house. “Your parents are already pissed.”

She waved me off. “Sure, sure,” she said. “It’s all good.”

“Cool,” I said. “Let’s do it.”

I drove us to the Grill, which is right on East Beach. They make these wheat-germ strawberry pancakes that are so, so, so good. I parked the car and we all got out. Probably we
all
looked like the walking dead at that point.

“I’ll buy,” Morrigan announced as we got to the Grill. “I won’t be needing any money for the rest of the summer.” She smirked to herself.

Beckett looked uncomfortable with the idea, but I answered for both of us. “Sounds good,” I said.

“Go find us a cool spot,” Morrigan ordered. “I’ll get the food. Strawberry pancakes all around? Good.” She marched off to the counter to place the order without waiting for a response. I led Beckett out to the beach near the water.

We found a “cool spot,” which was pretty much like every other cool spot on an early Sunday morning. There were a lot of joggers on the sidewalk and a lot of dogs, but no one settling down for the morning. We sat, not caring about getting wet sand on our butts. June Gloom had rolled in solid, settling thick overhead. The sun was a dust-colored ball, still trying to penetrate the overcast. Not much of a sunrise, but a sunrise all the same.

“So, is your mom totally going to beat you insensate?” I asked Beckett, bumping my shoulder into hers. Jennifer Montgomery had always been nice to me, to our family. I missed talking to her. My parents still asked about her and Beckett, and it was frustrating that I had nothing to tell them.