him, the only thing steady in a spinning room. I tilt my head and peer up at his surprised face.
“Sooo…Z. Wha’s Z short for, hmm? Zipper?” I yank on the jacket zipper but it doesn’t budge. Stupid zipper. My fingers won’t work. Stupid fingers. I try to shake myself off.
“Are you okay?” the hot leather Z says in my ear.
“Sure.” I giggle. The leather smells so good. I wonder if it tastes good. I lean forward to lick it and accidentally drop the bottle of water on his foot.
He winces. “Whoa, take it easy. Did you drink out of this?” He takes the empty cup next to me and smells it, like maybe he thinks it’s roses or something. He frowns. “This is just Coke. Did you have something else to drink? Alcohol?”
“Nope. That’s it. Coke.” That’s a funny word, Coke.
His eyes tighten. “Did you do any drugs?”
“Drugs, schmugs. I don’t do drugs. Just like on TV.”
“Who gave this to you?” he demands, his face crinkled in anger. Or maybe it’ll be happy if I tilt my head…
“Is your frown turned upside down?”
“Who gave this to you?” He holds the cup in front of my face and shakes it to rattle the ice. I try to concentrate but my eyes keep slipping around to him. Hot guy is hot.
“Liv!” Z peers at me closer like he’s trying to see inside my eyes. “Who gave this to you?”
“Ooh, him. Tyssson. He’s sooo gross. Tries to sit on me on the bus. Or sit on the bus.” I can’t remember what I’m trying to say.
“Did you say Tyson?” Z looks around sharply before shifting his attention back to me.
I know he’s asking me something, but I don’t know or care. I only want to be in his jacket. I giggle again, then fall to my knees.
“I’m getting you out of here.” He tugs my arm to pull me up. “Come on.”
A tiny voice in the back of my mind screams that this is very wrong, but I can’t focus on exactly why. I shake my head to try to clear the fog out of my brain, but all it does is make me dizzier.
“I need to lie down. Right now.” I crawl to the edge of the dance floor and fall down flat, my cheek pressing against the cool, vibrating wood. Through heavy lids I can see the soles of many kinds of shoes sliding near my face. So pretty.
I feel a hundred arms pulling on me, but when they get me up, it’s only Z and Sam.
“Hey, Sam. I don’t feel good.” I can see other people staring at me now. I wonder if they’re sick, too.
She tucks an arm under my shoulders. She has to shout over the thumping music. “I know. You need to get out of here.” She looks at Z. “Where do you want to take her?” I can’t hear his response.
They’re pushing me out into the cool night air. I want to protest, but I don’t know why. Sam slides away from me and lets me fall across Z as she walks away. I feel his arms close around me as I fade into blackness.
…
Z
The window is stuck. I jiggle it, stick a pin in the lock, try everything to get it open. Judging by this window’s small size, I’m guessing and seriously hoping it doesn’t lead to the master bedroom. I drop the pin and pull out my pocketknife, jamming it underneath the wood. I wish one of the other kids were here, like Cameron. He’d have it open in ten seconds flat. A dog barks, making me almost drop the knife. Damn it . I’m glad Sam isn’t watching. She’d give me hell for this.
Finally, I manage to pry the window open and struggle my way through. For such a slender person, Liv is really heavy when she’s passed out.
I lay her down in the bed and pull off her shoes, feeling kind of weird about the whole thing. Rubbing my sore shoulders, I take in the surroundings, lit up by a thick stream of moonlight. It’s kind of blah for a girl’s room, but maybe that’s how she likes it. If this is even her room. Or her house. The last thought makes me laugh. If this isn’t her house, then Sam is definitely slipping.
A small moan draws my eyes back to Liv, but she’s still out. Bad dream, maybe.
“Sooo…Z. Wha’s Z short for, hmm? Zipper?” I yank on the jacket zipper but it doesn’t budge. Stupid zipper. My fingers won’t work. Stupid fingers. I try to shake myself off.
“Are you okay?” the hot leather Z says in my ear.
“Sure.” I giggle. The leather smells so good. I wonder if it tastes good. I lean forward to lick it and accidentally drop the bottle of water on his foot.
He winces. “Whoa, take it easy. Did you drink out of this?” He takes the empty cup next to me and smells it, like maybe he thinks it’s roses or something. He frowns. “This is just Coke. Did you have something else to drink? Alcohol?”
“Nope. That’s it. Coke.” That’s a funny word, Coke.
His eyes tighten. “Did you do any drugs?”
“Drugs, schmugs. I don’t do drugs. Just like on TV.”
“Who gave this to you?” he demands, his face crinkled in anger. Or maybe it’ll be happy if I tilt my head…
“Is your frown turned upside down?”
“Who gave this to you?” He holds the cup in front of my face and shakes it to rattle the ice. I try to concentrate but my eyes keep slipping around to him. Hot guy is hot.
“Liv!” Z peers at me closer like he’s trying to see inside my eyes. “Who gave this to you?”
“Ooh, him. Tyssson. He’s sooo gross. Tries to sit on me on the bus. Or sit on the bus.” I can’t remember what I’m trying to say.
“Did you say Tyson?” Z looks around sharply before shifting his attention back to me.
I know he’s asking me something, but I don’t know or care. I only want to be in his jacket. I giggle again, then fall to my knees.
“I’m getting you out of here.” He tugs my arm to pull me up. “Come on.”
A tiny voice in the back of my mind screams that this is very wrong, but I can’t focus on exactly why. I shake my head to try to clear the fog out of my brain, but all it does is make me dizzier.
“I need to lie down. Right now.” I crawl to the edge of the dance floor and fall down flat, my cheek pressing against the cool, vibrating wood. Through heavy lids I can see the soles of many kinds of shoes sliding near my face. So pretty.
I feel a hundred arms pulling on me, but when they get me up, it’s only Z and Sam.
“Hey, Sam. I don’t feel good.” I can see other people staring at me now. I wonder if they’re sick, too.
She tucks an arm under my shoulders. She has to shout over the thumping music. “I know. You need to get out of here.” She looks at Z. “Where do you want to take her?” I can’t hear his response.
They’re pushing me out into the cool night air. I want to protest, but I don’t know why. Sam slides away from me and lets me fall across Z as she walks away. I feel his arms close around me as I fade into blackness.
…
Z
The window is stuck. I jiggle it, stick a pin in the lock, try everything to get it open. Judging by this window’s small size, I’m guessing and seriously hoping it doesn’t lead to the master bedroom. I drop the pin and pull out my pocketknife, jamming it underneath the wood. I wish one of the other kids were here, like Cameron. He’d have it open in ten seconds flat. A dog barks, making me almost drop the knife. Damn it . I’m glad Sam isn’t watching. She’d give me hell for this.
Finally, I manage to pry the window open and struggle my way through. For such a slender person, Liv is really heavy when she’s passed out.
I lay her down in the bed and pull off her shoes, feeling kind of weird about the whole thing. Rubbing my sore shoulders, I take in the surroundings, lit up by a thick stream of moonlight. It’s kind of blah for a girl’s room, but maybe that’s how she likes it. If this is even her room. Or her house. The last thought makes me laugh. If this isn’t her house, then Sam is definitely slipping.
A small moan draws my eyes back to Liv, but she’s still out. Bad dream, maybe.
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