Pushing Perfect(52)

I was shaking my hips with my arms in the air when I felt hands on my waist. “I’m glad you came,” Drew said. “You look really good tonight.” His hands felt sure and strong as they slipped under the tank I was wearing to settle on my bare skin. Thank goodness the zits didn’t travel that low. He pulled me backward toward him and we danced like that for a while; then he flung me around so we were facing each other, hips still moving together, and though I was already sweating, my body flooded with warmth. If it hadn’t been so dark, I’d have been worried that he was close enough to see past the makeup, but I barely had time to think about it before he moved his face so close to mine that it would be so, so easy for him to just lean in and kiss me.

And he did. His lips were tentative at first, as if he wasn’t sure if I’d push him away. But when I didn’t, he kissed me harder, opening my mouth with his tongue, and somehow I knew how to respond, even though I’d never done this before. His hands moved from my waist to the small of my back, farther up my tank top, until I worried he’d pull it off right in front of everyone. I pulled away for just a minute to yank it down, and then he started kissing me again.

But he moved his hands. To my face.

That’s when the panic set in. I pulled away, maybe too abruptly, because even in the dark I could see that he looked confused. “Stop!” I shouted.

“I thought—”

My head was pounding and the room was starting to spin. Was I panicking, or was I just drunk? Did it matter? “You thought wrong,” I managed to say before I ran off to find Becca and Isabel. More people had come while I was dancing, though I had barely noticed, and the small room was crowded with people, mostly paired off, mostly using the dark to make out. Where were Becca and Isabel? Why had they left me alone?

I hated the idea of interrupting them, but I had to. I had to get out of there. Through the crowd, I spotted Becca dancing with a guy I knew she liked. I grabbed her arm. “We have to leave. Now.”

“Why?” she asked. “What’s going on?”

“Let’s just go.”

“Are you okay? Are you sick?” She looked worried, but she also wasn’t moving. She didn’t want to leave; that much was clear.

But I was starting to feel the same way I’d felt during the PSAT, when I’d left the room to keep from fainting. I was sure now that it wasn’t the beer.

I was having another panic attack.

I didn’t want to faint here. I didn’t answer Becca’s question; I just ran outside and collapsed on the lawn, hoping no one had seen me. Becca didn’t come out right away, which gave me enough time to get myself together and sit up. I waited for a while trying to figure out what to do. Should I just call my parents and get a ride home? Then they’d know I’d been drinking.

Finally, Becca came outside, with Isabel. “What’s going on?” Isabel asked. “Why did you just run out of there?”

Looking back, it’s obvious I should have just told them. Becca already knew about the PSATs; if I just said I was having a panic attack, they’d understand. But it was one thing to freak out over a test; it was a whole other thing to freak out because the boy I liked had finally kissed me and I was afraid he’d see who I really was. Which meant explaining to them about the monster. I couldn’t do it.

“I’m not having fun. I want to leave,” I said, standing up.

“So we’re all supposed to just pick up and go?” Isabel asked, her voice getting louder. “We keep trying to get you to hang out with us, to have fun, and the minute we’re all actually having a good time, you get to decide it’s over?”

I turned to Becca, hoping she’d understand without me having to explain, but she looked just as mad as Isabel. Like I was abandoning her. Please, I thought. I tried to say something, anything, but standing up had made the nausea worse, and now I was so dizzy I felt like I might fall down again.

“You’ve got nothing you want to add here?” Becca asked. “Last chance to explain.”

That’s when I knew I’d lost her.

They dropped me off at home—Isabel was a little older than the rest of us, and had gotten her license the minute she was allowed. I heard later that they went back to the party without me.

That had been what finally did it. I guess Becca viewed that as my third strike, and I was out. She gave up on me, and Isabel followed suit.

“I was having a panic attack,” I told her now. “Like at the PSAT. I didn’t want you guys to know. I didn’t want to ruin the party. But I should have told you. I’m a horrible person who lied to my friends, and now you know every last one of my secrets. Okay? So now tell me yours.”

She stared at me for a minute. I’d said something she hadn’t expected. “Fine,” she said.

“Fine,” I said.

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

She let out a deep breath, and then she was ready to talk. “I’ve been getting these text messages . . .”

“From a blocked sender,” I said.

“You know about that too?” She sounded genuinely surprised. At this point I wasn’t.

“We’re all in the same boat,” I said.

“Are you going to tell me who this we is you keep talking about?”