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I returned the high-five and said, “We make a good team.”
“It only took us eight years to figure it out!”
Both of us lingered there together, inches apart. Jack wiped his wet hair away from his forehead. His eyes were so incredibly blue, much more vibrant than I had ever seen. Why hadn’t I noticed that before?
An impulse struck me. The urge to kiss Jack Franco. He looked like he wanted to kiss me, too. His hand was brushing against my arm, fingers curling ever so slightly, like he wanted to hold me in his grasp. I imagined it, kissing Jack. Feeling the rest of his hard, masculine body against mine. Jack was starting to lean in. I desperately wanted it, burned for it, and I very nearly leaned in too.
We’re surrounded by classmates. Even if I never saw any of them again, that didn’t mean I wanted to make out with a guy in front of everyone.
I pulled away, then swam over to the pool ladder. Jack followed. I climbed out, acutely aware that Jack was right behind me and probably had a front-row seat to my wet ass.
“You want to get another beer?” he asked when we were both out of the pool and in the sun. The moisture on his tan skin really made his muscles pop out.
“I’m good, thanks.” I grabbed my towel and began drying off, then laid out on the chair. I thought Jack had walked away, but he was still standing there. Like he had something more to say.
Before I could ask, he turned and went inside. The last thing I heard was him shouting, “Be careful! No keg stands unless you have people around to hold your legs!”
While I allowed the sun to dry my body, I thought about Jack Franco. The almost-boy-next-door. How good he felt in the pool, how my body reacted to being carried by him. The beer had to be the only reason I felt that way.
Right?
The guys still by the pool were starting to get rowdy, and I was afraid of being coaxed into another chicken fight, so I got dressed and went looking for Brandi. I didn’t get another beer; whatever buzz I’d felt had faded, and I didn’t want to press my luck with a second cup. If this really was going to be the last time I saw all of these people, then I didn’t want their final memory to be of me puking in the bathroom.
I asked the girls in the kitchen if they’d seen Brandi, and one of them said she was upstairs. I climbed the steps, and the music from the first floor faded to a muted thump. I had never been in Jack’s house before, but I knew that his bedroom must be down at the end of the hallway since it faced my house.
I started in that direction, and knocked on the first door I saw. A couple was making out inside, but neither of them were Kyle or Brandi. The next door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it open.
“Wow, ever heard of knocking?” Darren Pamploma said.
“Hey, she’s cool, man,” Will Zimmer said. “Aren’t you, Alyssa?”
The smell of weed hung heavily in the air. Will had a joint in his hand. It was like a scene straight out of those old D.A.R.E. videos they made us watch in health class.
“Any of you seen my sister?” I asked.
“Haven’t seen her.” Will waved me inside. “Come hang out with us.”
“I’m just looking for Brandi.”
“Take a hit,” Darren said. “Prove you’re not a narc.”
“I don’t care what you do,” I replied. I was definitely sober, now. “But you should probably crack a window. This looks like Jack’s younger brother’s room.”
I turned to leave, but Will’s hand snatched out and grabbed me by the arm and pulled me deeper into the room.
“Relax,” Will said. “We’re not going to hurt you or anything. We’re not like that.”
“You’ve never had weed before, right?” Darren said. His eyes were bloodshot. “You should try it. Before you go to college.”
“That’s a good idea,” I said. “I’ll try it the next time I get a chance.”
“What better time than the present?” Will asked. He’d let go of me, but I got the impression he would grab me again if I tried to leave.
I can scream, I thought. A dozen guys will be up here in the blink of an eye. But I didn’t want to do that. Will and Darren were popular; they would probably claim I freaked out about the drugs. I definitely didn’t want everyone at the party remembering me that way.
“I’m good,” I said.
“Take one puff,” Darren insisted. “Then we’ll let you go.”
