Forever for a Year(28)

“You live here?” the first policeman asked Katherine. She rolled her eyes, stumbled over to the couch, and collapsed into it.

“Yes, I f*cking live here. Shit. This sucks.”

“You should leave, miss,” the second policeman said to me.

“I can’t. Peggy’s sick. She’s passed out.”

“Where is she?”

“In her bedroom.” I pointed up the stairs.

“We’ll make sure she’s okay,” the policeman said. “Do you have someone to take you home?”

“She has her f*cking bike!” Katherine said, then cackled and swore under her breath.

“I can walk her home,” a boy’s voice said, stepping into the house from outside. Everyone turned except me since I was already facing him.

It was Trevor.

You know how I said I didn’t really love him because I didn’t know what that meant? Well, now I knew what it meant. I really did. And, gosh, did I love him.





18

Trevor does his own party loop

When I arrived at the party, my eyes locked with Carolina’s. I didn’t stop to talk to her, because I’m a wimp, so they didn’t stay locked for long, but for that one moment … I’m not going to say any generic, fake-romantic crap. No. It was just that, I knew … Crap. I don’t know. Maybe I just I knew I liked looking into her eyes and wanted to do it again as soon as possible.

But I followed Aaron and Tor and their friend they called DJ into the house. We had to push our way through an endless, thick wall of people. Why? I don’t know. Because at parties you have to move around so you look like you know what you’re doing, I guess. Stupid. Whatever. But halfway across the living room, I realized I was only getting farther away from where I wanted to be. So I let the sophomores keep doing their party loop, and I stopped and looked back. Carolina and Kendra had stepped inside. Carolina was looking for someone. For me? Probably not. But maybe. Yeah. Why not, Trev? Why’s it always have to be someone else? Why couldn’t it be you? So I started moving back toward the front, but I lost sight of them and by the time I got near the door, in front of the stairs, I had totally lost them. Looking outside, I considered leaving. Just because. But then I waited. Just because.

When I spotted Carolina again, she was talking to my cousin Henry. He was hitting on her. He was goddamn hitting on her. Told me I couldn’t like her, but here he was, making a move. Everyone’s a liar. Or an *. Or both, like my cousin. Then I noticed Carolina’s face. She didn’t like Henry hitting on her. Not at all. And I couldn’t stop being happy for a second, even though I hate being happy.

Then something changed, and Carolina walked toward me, and I was nervous until she said, “I have to go check on Peggy.”

And not even knowing what I was thinking, I said, “I’ll help you,” and followed her up the stairs. We found Peggy drunk, getting felt up by some creepy upperclassman. When he tried to push Carolina away from helping Peggy, I stepped between them. I’m not brave. Never been in a real fight in my life. But I don’t know. Hard to describe. Just did it and wouldn’t have backed down no matter what. Didn’t need to. Peggy puked and that cleared the room. Carolina and Kendra helped their friend to the bathroom and closed the door.

I lingered in the upstairs hall, but then felt like I was stalking her and she needed private time with her friends, so I went downstairs. The screaming and drinking and claustrophobia of the party all looked so boring. Truth? It didn’t look boring; I felt I was boring looking at it. The more people at the party … the more alone I felt. Man, I’m lame.

Went outside. Thought about going home. It was a good night. I had done what I hoped. Saw Carolina. Even helped her help her friend. Yeah. I might have even looked brave in her eyes, maybe? So a good night. I should go home. Not ruin it. Not stalk her. Not look desperate and strange. But I couldn’t get my legs to start walking home. So I went and leaned against a big tree and stared back at the party. Stalker! I’m such a freak! If my life were a horror movie, I would be the serial killer about to kill every kid at the party. But I’m a good guy. Right? I just didn’t fit in. But I didn’t want to leave either. So I was an outsider standing outside. I guess I was where I belonged.

Then I heard a siren, and police lights flashed. A cop car stopped in the middle of the street, someone yelled, “COPS!” inside the house, and then, crazy-town, every kid flung himself or herself out of the party. I just stood there, smiling at how funny they all looked sprinting in fifty directions out of the house, like baby mice escaping a sinking ship.

Most of the kids had fled by the time the two policemen got out of the car. One of them said to me, “Go home.”

And I said, “I’m waiting for someone.”

He didn’t like how I talked back to him, so he repeated it: “I said, go home.” But he didn’t know I knew I wasn’t doing anything illegal. Also, I knew he was probably just another screwed-up adult who only pretended he knew what he was doing. So I ignored him, and the police forgot about me and walked inside. Through the open front door I could see her.

Carolina. Standing on the stairs. She hadn’t run.

I started moving toward the front door. Maybe to get a better look at her. Then I heard a cop say, “Do you have someone to take you home?” And I had my moment. So I walked inside and said, “I can walk her home.” And Carolina looked at me. And I looked at her. And our eyes locked for more than a moment. I almost thought, “they locked forever,” but that would be just the fake-romantic crap I hate, so I didn’t think it.