Page 22 of Told You So
My feet start moving, carrying me through the crowd with no specific destination as long as it’s away from them. I need to numb the sting. I need liquid courage to say or do something that will liberate me from the humiliation and anger that scorches my skin.
I stop at the keg and pour myself a half-filled cup, too impatient to let it fill completely. I chug it down, then refill it just as quickly. The foam tickles my lips and the carbonation almost burns going down, but I do it again. Pour and chug.
The sound of laughter taunts me, and the thrumming music in my head is almost too distant against the sound of my heart, beating in my ears. My blood is rushing.
I’m not sure what comes over me, but when I see Hilman talking to a group of people in the kitchen, I head straight for him. Nick and Slinsky want a story to tell, so I’ll give them one. It will be about the night Bethany Fairchild decided she was done being the good one, or the one that isn’t good enough.
Draping my arm over Hilman’s shoulder, I take his cup from his hand, earning a surprised frown as I down the rest of his beer. It tastes like crap, but I don’t care.
When his eyes shift to my mouth and he smiles, I do what sober, less impulsive me will regret tomorrow. I lean in, close to his ear. “I changed my mind,” I tell him, and when Hilman looks at me with amusement, I don’t hesitate. I pull his mouth against mine and pray his kiss will chase the memory of Nick’s away. And if my dad thinks I’m a disappointment, I’ll give him something else to be disappointed about.
I kiss Hilman harder and with more need than I expect, but I embrace it and I don’t stop until I can no longer breathe.
Finally, when I pull away, Hilman blinks his eyes open. He looks more than surprised, he looks pleased. “Damn, girl. You’re better at that than I expected.”
I hated it. I hated every second of it. I want to scream, but the look in his eyes and the power I feel, knowing I can make fancy-footed, star running back Steve Hilman blush, emboldens me.
When I see Nick’s face across the room, when I see the shock in his eyes, I can’t help myself. I take Hilman’s hand and lead him from the room so that Nick’s gaze won’t burn so badly.
Here’s a story for you, Nick.
Seven
Bethany
“I’ll take bed number three—oh, and I’d like a flamingo sticker this time, please.”
I fake-smile at Carol Goode because it’s about all I can manage, and hand her a pair of tanning bed glasses and a small flamingo sticker I can only assume she’ll put in some secret place on her body.
“My boyfriend is taking me to Hawaii,” she says, all smiles and boasting glee. “I want to make sure I’m ready.”She shimmies her shoulders, and I force another grin.“How fun. Let me know if you need anything else.”
Carol traipses into room three and clicks the door shut.
“Your favorite person,” Anna Marie quietly sings as she comes in from the back, armed with a large bottle of disinfectant spray. “Who’s she dating this week?”
“I didn’t ask,” I grumble and flip my textbook open again. I hate that my life has resorted to nonstop studying.
Anna nudges the disinfectant closer. “Make sure Trent refills all the bottles when he’s finished, would you? I have a dozen boxes of inventory and supplies I have to receive in the back today.”
“Sure.” I’m listening but also not really at the same time. I have a quiz tomorrow in my Developmental Psych class, which is more pressing than bad tans and Clorox spray. I peruse the highlighted tidbits in my book, scanning for the field studies I need to spend the most time reviewing.Had I not accidentally fallen asleep last night, working on the essay Professor Murray expects me to have completed tomorrow in order to pass his class, I wouldn’t be panicking right now.
“Hey,” Anna Marie says, leaning on the desk. She taps the countertop to get my attention.
“Hmm?”
When I don’t look at her, she covers the open page with her hand. “Hey,” she says more coolly, and I meet her blue gaze. “I know you’ve got a lot going on right now with graduation and your brother, but I need you to work, too.”
My cheeks burn, and I swallow thickly. She’s completely right. “I know. I’m sorry.” I clamp the book shut. I need this job, even if I barely have time for it.
“Why are you working here anyway?” Anna asks. “I mean, I know your parents are loaded.”
I bark out a laugh. “And what makes you think any of that money is mine?” I work when I can so I can move out, though going to school full-time makes an apartment feel like a pipe dream at this point. The closer grad school gets, the more I dread the impending cost. “I’m the black sheep, remember?”
“I thought Jesse was the black sheep.”
I laugh again, more saddened by the reality of it all, but still highly amused. “He is—we both are,” I clarify. “It’s complicated.” My parents don’t give me handouts like hers do, but I would never tell her that to her face. She’s been a good friend, even if she’s gotten me into more trouble than I’d care to admit. “I’ll put my book away.”
“I’ll tell you what,” she says, steadying her hand on my book. “Trent needs to learn the register anyway. Why don’t you take your break? That way you can get some studying in now, feel a little better about it, then actually carry on a conversation with me later, when we’re really slow and I’m about to lose my mind.”
