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Chapter Twelve
SARAH
I feel physically ill as we make the drive from the club to Parker’s shore house.
Liam makes me feel awful, as if my very being is capable of inspiring disgust and loathing in another person. Abhorrent, that’s the college board exam word I’m looking for. In his eyes I am abhorrent.
I stew in the backseat of the car wondering why. I’ve never had an enemy before. Truly, I am not aware of any person in my past or present who has actively disliked me. I’m not saying that people cheer when I walk into a room or anything, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt genuine hatred directed my way.
Hatred is what I seem to inspire in Liam, though.
I want him out of my head, so it’s almost a comfort to dive into party planning mode. Parker smiles my way as I’m rolling up an area rug, appreciating when I insist that it’s too nice to leave out. The three of us work for two or three hours getting everything ready, and once the keg is icing, the jello shots are chilling in the fridge and the Hastings family’s valuables are securely locked away, we relax on the deck. It’s still chilly out, but summer is coming and the sun feels good on my face.
I even take the beer Logan hands me, and for once I don’t hate the taste of it. It’s cold and refreshing, and I’m probably dehydrated after a morning of riding followed by party chores, so the bitter taste doesn’t bother me like it usually does. One shot—just to make sure I didn’t screw up the recipe—and then the boys drop me off with a warning to be ready in an hour.
People start to roll in at around seven, and by ten o’clock the house is packed. Tatiana hasn’t showed up yet, but no one expects her until close to midnight. She insists on making an entrance unless the party is at her house. But Clara and Penny are by my side, and while there’s a voice in my head reminding me of how crappy I felt the morning after overdoing it at my birthday party, a louder voice is overruling sensible Sarah.
Screw it,I’m having fun.
And I am having fun. School is winding down, and we’re all a little sappy and nostalgic as we acknowledge this bridge we’re about to cross over. In a few months, the people I’ve spent most of my life with, countless hours in and outside of school, will be scattered across different time zones. The realization brings on a closeness that I’ve never really felt before.
I’ll miss Penny, Clara and Tatiana. Although I don’t open myself up and expose my innermost thoughts, I do feel close to them and I know I’ll miss them. Penny won’t be there to make me laugh, or to give me a gentle nudge so that no one teases or rolls their eyes on those frequent occasions when I space out. Clara won’t be there to talk me through it when I’m stressed out over grades, tests, or other things that I’m beginning to see as unnecessary worries. And Tatiana won’t be there to teach me what I don’t know. I shake my head at the outrageous things she does, but from watching her I’ve been acquiring the kind of knowledge you can’t get from books.
The three of us do a shot to our impending graduation, another once Tatiana shows up to toast her acceptance into some prestigious art program in Paris, and another as we pledge to visit each other at our respective colleges regularly.
Borderline euphoric in my buzzed state, I’m still a realist at heart, so I know the pledges and promises are a lie. I don’t believe these girls will disappear entirely from my life, but we’ll drift apart. Tatiana will be in Europe, and knowing her she may never come back. Clara is heading off to California and Penny will be in Texas. I’ll be at Penn and Parker will be at Princeton. Looking around the room at my drunken peers, I decide that I don’t really care where the rest of them are heading. Pretending otherwise would be fake on my part, and I’ve already been accused of harboring that loathsome trait once today.
The damn door has opened and closed like a hundred times so far, and yes, I want to slap my own face for checking to see who’s coming and going. I tell myself again that I don’t care if he’s here or not, but like I said, I’m not so far gone that I don’t see the words for what they are: a lie.
“Oh!”
“Get out,” Parker barks as he pulls the blanket up to cover me.
“Sorry,” Penny whispers as she backs out of the room. When I hear the door close, I push my hair out of my face and attempt to open my eyes. I’m so tired and my mouth is so, so dry.
“How are you doing, angel?” Parker asks as he rolls onto his side to look down at me.
I try to wet my tongue but it feels two sizes too big for my mouth. I manage to answer, “Good, but I need some water.”
“On it.”
He gets up and walks to the bathroom. He’s naked, which compels me to peek underneath the covers to discover that I’m in the same state.
I made a decision. Sometime late last night when Parker told me that he loved me, I decided to end this ridiculous stalemate. I was still ambivalent when it came to Parker, but holding out any longer seemed pointless. I’d have sex eventually, so why not now? Why not tonight?
He comes back into the room and hands me a glass with a pill. “This will make your head feel better.”
As he waits for me to swallow it down, I lower my eyes to look at him. He doesn’t make an effort to cover himself and I find myself staring. I must still be a little bit drunk because I’m thinking that he’s big, and it looks like a long, lazy thing dangling between his legs. I smile, thinking to myself that penises are weird, ugly things. They’re nothing like the muscles on a man’s body, or the lips that can kiss you senseless or frame a dazzling smile.
It’s obvious that he’s trimmed the hedges. I’m not really surprised, he’s been shaving off his chest hair for as long as I’ve known him, but Parker’s smooth and hairless manscape makes me self-conscious for a fleeting moment. The only reason the idea of waxing isn’t entirely foreign to me is because my mother all but insisted upon it. But I don’t keep up with any kind of beauty routine, so I can’t help but wonder if he’s judging me and finding me lacking. One look back up at his face tells me my worries are unfounded.
“That was pretty great last night.”
I nod my head and do my best to match his smile.
Was it great? I have no idea. I have nothing to base my opinion on. I just know that I brushed any concerns I had aside last night, told myself it was time and that it was no big deal.
Virginity is such a ridiculous, outdated concept, but despite what people say, there’s no doubt in my mind that within the confines of high school, it’s still an adjective assigned to us by others or one we assign to ourselves. People stillput way too much value on that rite of passage.
