Put Me Back Together(37)

I understood the old Katie. I knew her limits. But what were the new Katie’s limits? What could the new Katie handle? And if the new Katie suddenly disappeared, leaving the old Katie in her place, what the hell was I supposed to do then?

My great look armor had basically started to disintegrate and I was about two seconds from running for my life when Lucas appeared on the path to my left. Slutty man-whore Lothario Lucas. But he didn’t seem slutty to me. Seeing him was a breath of fresh air and as I got to my feet I found myself drinking in the sight of him, every beautiful well-sculpted inch. It was weird the way just looking at him and knowing he was near made me feel strong. Maybe that was how the new Katie handled it all. She didn’t handle it alone. She had Lucas by her side.

“What are you doing out here in the cold?” Lucas said. “You should have waited inside for me.”

Reaching out, he ran his hand up and down the back of my coat, which only pressed me closer to him. I got the impression that was kind of the point.

“It’s not that cold; I’m wearing gloves, and it’s not even below zero. Why are we going to this party?” I said in one big rush, forcing out the question I didn’t even realize I’d been holding in. The validity of the question didn’t stop me from staring at the ground in embarrassment as Lucas barked out a laugh.

“I mean,” I continued—wow, the cement really was fascinating!—“I know you haven’t been going to a lot of parties…”

“You know that?” Lucas said. I could just picture the glint in his eye as he said it. “And how do you know that?”

“Well, you know, Em mentioned…”

This time I could see him bending down to get a better look at my face. “So you’ve been talking to your sister about me?” His warm, minty breath against my face made me shiver.

“Oh, shut up!” I said, looking up at last, narrowing my eyes at him. “Emily knows you and I are friends.”

Lucas stood tall again as we started walking down the path. “There’s that word again,” he said as he put his arm around my shoulder. “Friends.”

I chose to ignore this, even though being snug in the crook of his arm, my side pressed into his, was making my heart skip every second beat.

“But really,” I persisted, “what changed your mind? I thought you wanted to stay away from the party scene. What made you want to go to this one all of a sudden?”

“You mean besides the terrible free beer and awful conversation and, oh God, those friends of mine? They really are a miserable bunch,” he said. His tone was light and sarcastic, but I suddenly felt as though I’d stepped in something. Did he sense that I had no interest in meeting his friends or drinking their beer or talking to them? Was old Katie rearing her ugly head?

“I mean, no,” I said frantically. “What I mean is… I didn’t mean—”

He stopped and took me by the shoulders. “Katie,” he said softly, but firmly. “I was just kidding.”

I felt my whole body sag with relief. Jesus, we hadn’t even made it off campus and I was already exhausted.

“And to answer your question,” he went on, pushing a stray curl behind my ear, “I couldn’t think of a good reason to go to those other parties. That’s why I didn’t go.”

I nodded, eager to be agreeable, though I still didn’t really feel like I understood.

Then he took my chin in his hand and tilted my face up toward his. Unconsciously, I found myself leaning in. It was incredible, like he was the flame and I was the moth. I just couldn’t stop gravitating toward his touch.

He said, “I guess I was just looking for a good excuse.”

“So what’s your excuse?” I breathed.

“The chance to show you off,” he replied

And just like that going to a party with Lucas didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all.

We left campus, going north. I lived east of campus, but I knew the area—we were close to the Dairy Queen. (I mapped out all locations in Kingston by their distance to the Dairy Queen.) Though Lucas had told me the party was on Frontenac, I’d had no idea it would be so close by. We’d only been walking for about five minutes when we began to notice parked cars crowding both sides of the street. It was pretty clear which house we were aiming for. As we approached on the sidewalk, the three-story gray house on the other side of the street stood out not only because the porch was crowded with people, but also because the Christmas lights that lined the roof and wound up the porch columns were all lit. The booming music was also a pretty good indicator.

My footsteps started to slow as we came closer and I was surprised to see that Lucas’s did, too. By the time we were standing directly across from the house, we were at a standstill.

A guy on the porch spotted Lucas and called out his name. I examined his face for a reaction, but saw nothing. It had taken on that closed-off quality again.

He swallowed. “I guess it’s too late to change our minds,” he said, and my heart did a little pitter-patter at the idea that getting out of the party was still a possibility. I began to think of all the other things we could do with the evening: go to the movies, or out to eat, or to the studio, or maybe…


Another voice, a girl’s voice this time, joined the first guy in calling Lucas’s name, and then suddenly the whole porch was chanting, “Lucas! Lucas! Lucas!”