Part 31 (1/2)

”I'm not,” I insisted. ”I may have done some climbing, but I am not a climber. That's not who I am.”

”Whatever. I never even asked you out, Cara. You know why? I knew I didn't have to. I knew I could get you in with my friends and you'd go right along with it.”

I was so beyond offended that I wanted to scream at him-except he was right. Then I remembered something.

”Okay, fine-then you're a climber, too. Robert Schwarner said you used to be friends. What did you do, dump him to be more popular?”

”You really want to know? Robert dumped me. I tried to kiss him in fourth grade and he freaked out.”

”Oh.”

”Don't get me wrong, Cara. I don't care that you're a climber. I like it. It works for me. It means we can help each other. I am totally happy to keep things the way they are. You keep me looking hetero, and I'll keep you in with Trista and the girls.”

”I don't like that you think I'm that shallow,” I said.

”You don't like that I think it or that I see it?”

”G.o.d, you don't even like me, do you?”

”Of course I like you. I wouldn't want to hang out with you this much if I didn't like you. I might not respect you, but I like you just fine.”

That was it. I needed to get away immediately. Not that I had a lot of options. I was too drunk to drive home, and The Hang was occupied. I slid off the chaise, keeping the blanket wrapped around me.

”What are you doing?” Eddie asked.

”I'm going for a walk.”

”Cara, it's freezing. You're only warm because we have heaters.”

I needed shoes, but I couldn't bear to stuff my feet back into heels. ”I'm taking your sneakers,” I told Eddie as I shoved them on.

”You'll swim in them.”

”I'll deal.”

Eddie was right, of course. His sneakers were several sizes larger than my feet. Walking in them was like strolling in flippers. I basically had to shuffle and covered all of an inch at a time.

”You still haven't told me,” Eddie said as I attempted to move. ”Are we still together? 'Cause believe me, you might think the girls are your best friends, but if we break up, you're history to them.”

I didn't want to believe him. I wanted to scream at him that he was wrong, that the girls weren't just my friends, they were my sisters. I was one of them, and I would be whether or not Eddie Riegert deigned to call me his girlfriend.

But then I remembered the List and the other columns with owners scratched out of existence. Maybe the Populazzi girls would keep me in their circle ... but maybe they wouldn't. Did I really want to risk it? Trista, Ree-Ree, Kristie, and Gemma were now my only friends at Chrysella. If they dumped me, where would I be?

”Cara?” Eddie prodded.

”Yes,” I said softly, hating myself for being just what he said I was. ”We're still together.”

”So you'll keep my secret?”

I glared at him. I'd hoped it went without saying that if I was going to keep acting like his girlfriend, I wouldn't advertise that he was gay.

”I need you to say it, Cara.”

I hated him.

”I'll keep your secret.”

”Good.”

That was the extent of Eddie's concern. He lay back on the chaise and curled under the blankets as I trudged over the snow-covered ground. It was freezing, and I had no clue where I actually intended to go ... until I looked up to the main house. Someone had left the lights on in the large bas.e.m.e.nt room that led out to the pool, and through a gla.s.s sliding door I could see Riley, my favorite dog, curled up on a couch. That's what I needed. I turned and started the long, slow trek to the house. I had no clue if the slider was even unlocked, but I didn't care; I'd crawl through the dog door if I had to.

Clutching the blanket tightly around me, I slogged up one hill, around the pool, and up another hill. With each step, snow tumbled into my giant clown sneakers and froze my feet. They were soon numb, and I slipped, lost hold of the blanket, and slid down several snowy feet on my bare b.u.t.t. Could the night get any better? I didn't think so. Finally I neared the main house, and Riley's right ear p.r.i.c.ked up.

”Hey, boy,” I cooed. He must have heard me through the gla.s.s because he lifted his head and gave me a tongue-out doggie smile that for one moment made everything in the world all right.

The sliding door opened when I tugged on the handle. Leaving it unlocked seemed like the height of irresponsibility, until I remembered the whole property was gated, so a few open doors probably weren't a big deal.

The warmth of the room melted me, and I closed my eyes a moment to let it seep into my frozen pores before I kicked off Eddie's shoes and staggered to the couch.

Thump-thump-thump-thump. Riley's tail beat happily against the cus.h.i.+ons as he waited for me to get comfortable.

”Okay, boy, come here.”

Riley obeyed, bounding onto my lap so he could lick my face while I scratched his fuzzy black body. I gently grabbed his little head and kissed him right on his snout. Riley took this as a sign that we were now on intimate enough terms that he could roll over and present his belly for some serious rubbing.

As I scratched, I looked around the room, which seemed like a giant finished bas.e.m.e.nt made for casual entertaining. On the vast brown-s.h.a.g-covered floor sat not just the couch on which Riley and I cuddled but also two love seats and a couple recliners-all of which gathered around a large plasma TV with the works. Across the room to my right was a b.u.mper pool table. Off to the left was a 1950s-diner-style kitchenette with lots of steel, Formica, and red leatherette. The lights in that area were all off, but someone had been there earlier. I saw a huge pile of Tastykakes wrappers, empty soda cans, and an empty pint of ice cream. They were strewn on the carpet, as if a bunch of people had feasted on the floor. I knew Trista had a twelve-year-old little sister. Maybe she'd had a slumber party with her friends and they hadn't bothered to clean up.

I felt the couch shake. While I scanned the room, I'd stopped scratching Riley, and he pumped his front paws up and down, begging for more. I laughed and went back to work.

Huuuuuuullllllll!

I froze. It sounded like someone was gagging. Riley didn't seem to notice. It was odd, since his little radar ears usually perked up at anything unusual.

Huuuuuuaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

That time the noise ended in a painfully scratchy croak. More silence, then the punched-in-the-stomach sound came again, this time followed by a splash.

Now I got it. I winced and hoped that someone was actually sick, since the alternative was that Trista's sister or one of her friends was already making herself throw up at age twelve. I probably would have to tell Trista tomorrow. She should know.

I heard the sink running and several moments later heard the k.n.o.b turn. I considered hiding just to save the kid some embarra.s.sment, but that didn't seem right. She should be aware someone knew, especially if I planned to say something to Trista. I pulled the blanket tighter around myself and watched as the door opened and a figure dressed in a bulky, knee-length sweats.h.i.+rt padded out. She was hunched over and looking down. A curtain of lank chestnut hair obscured her face.

Then she lifted her head.

I gasped. I couldn't help it.

”Trista?”