Page 73 of Old Acquaintances

“Not for him. It’s never been a game to him.” He tilts his head. “Are you really that naive?”

I stand up straight. “Naive aboutwhatexactly?”

“The way he touches you. The way he looks at you. He wants to sleep with you. That’s all it’s ever been for him.” His lip screws up in disgust. “He’s not your friend.”

“You’re just realizing this now?”

“I want everything the way that it was. Back when we were kids. You two shouldn’t be fooling around.”

His glasses are askew on the left side, and I have such an urge to flick them off his face. He’s still shooting daggers at Tucker while his fiancée sits awkwardly on the couch beside Wyatt, getting a lesson in his conspiracy theories that she did ask for. I don’t need saving. She does.

I say, “Um, newsflash Johnny, I’m not ten anymore. I do not want to fool around with Tucker, but I’m allowed to, seeing as I’m a fully grown adult woman.” It occurs to me that he’s okay with Tucker’s distance for this very reason. “You don’t mind that he stayed away from me, do you? Because then we’d be just as we were - your two separate friends.”

He drops his can in the recycling. “You two have nothing in common anyway.”

“We have literallyeverythingin common, Johnny.”

“So, I have to worry about you too, now?” he asks. “Maybe you and Ritchie should switch beds.”

“Worry about me?” I say scornfully. “Wanting to sleep with him? You shouldn’t worry about anything like that because I’m not an underaged prairie girl and you’re not my dad!”

He rolls his eyes, and I steer my face in front of his.

I pick, “What’s the deal with you and Jen?”

Johnny says simply, “We’re engaged.”

“You don’t seem very comfortable about that. You also seem to have a whole slew of new traits and activities that younevertold me about.” I drop one last penny in the empty bucket that is his silent response: “I hope you’re moving toward things you want, not away from things you’re afraid of. You can’t pick a safe person just because the unknown scares you, Johnny.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbles, focused on the swirls of the countertop.

I drink.

For the rest of the night.

I down my wine like I’m trying to wash Tucker’s taste out of my mouth and drown out Johnny’s words. Unfortunately, I’m not the kind of drunk who gets sleepy and affectionate. I’m the kind of drunk whose attention-seeking behavior turns up to a ten.

Music blasts through the house. Serena, Wyatt and I are dancing, Tucker constantly prying the wine from my hands. Johnny’s shouting about not paying for damages. Callie and Ritchie engage in a deep, emotional conversation and Jen left a long time ago. That’s probably for the best. There’s a high probability I will strip off all my clothes.

“Let’s go swimming!” I scream.

“Nope,” Tucker slams an arm across my stomach.

“Let me go!”

“No.”

“We’re gonna jump in the pool.”

“No - you’re going todrownin the pool.”

I twist and look him in the eye. “I already almost died, and you didn’t give a shit.”

His nose touches mine, he gets so close to my face. “Not true,” he snaps. I’m slung over his shoulder. “I’m taking her to bed.”

In my brain I’m beating against his back and telling him to put me down, but in reality, I’ve lost muscle control. I dangle against his shirt. I press my face into it. It smells good. He’s so warm and strong. I wish I didn’t hate him.

Suddenly I’m dropped on the bed.

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