Uninvited (Uninvited, #1)(25)

The living room is crowded. Bodies press close together in tight groups. Conversation is loud, but the music louder. No one stops and points at me. There’s no outright gawking, but the awareness of my arrival is palpable. Sly glances turn my way. Heads shift subtly to examine me. It’s impossible to understand anything in the deafening mash of words, but I’m sure I’ve become the topic.

A few of the guys approach Zac, their hands slapping one another in that guy way. These are boys I’ve known for years. They’re strong, good-looking. Confident in themselves and where they’re going even in this uncertain world. They’re at the top of the social hierarchy. Just like Zac. If I wasn’t dating him, I’m sure I’d be dating one of them. Carlton with his blue eyes and lashes so long any girl would kill for. Josh with his matching dimples.

They always hug me. Tease and flirt with me in a way that would make Zac get all huffy.

“Hey, Davy.” They greet, smiling down at me almost with embarrassment. It’s mutual. My cheeks burn. The whole situation is awkward. I’m sure if I said boo they would jump. Ironic, considering they both top me by almost six inches.

None of the girls approach. They hang back, pretending not to watch. Except Tori. She doesn’t hide her stare. I stare back at my best friend. I start to move toward her but Zac stops me. A deliberate move, I know. His gaze flits uneasily between us.

“C’mon. Let’s get a drink.” He laces his fingers with mine and leads me to the keg. Away from Tori.

Carlton follows us. The two guys talk about rugby as I pretend to drink from the Solo cup. I hate beer. Zac knows it, but it’s never stopped him from handing me a cup. It’s, like, the thing you do at these parties. Everyone drinks in order to make it okay to act dumb and do things you’ll regret later. I know the game, but I don’t feel like playing it tonight. Not after the day I had. I just wish Zac and I could be alone together. I wish we could talk. I wish I could hug him and share all the horrible things that have been happening to me.

I spot Tori pushing through the crowd to reach the keg. But I know it’s really not the keg she’s after. Her gaze is bright and glittery, fixed on me. A quick glance at Zac, and I see he hasn’t noticed her advance. He’s too busy chatting with Carlton.

She stops in front of me. “Why are you here?”

“Am I not supposed to be?” I ask carefully, still hoping somewhere deep inside, maybe in that part of me that’s delusional and still believes in the tooth fairy, that Tori and I can still be friends.

Zac tenses beside me. “Tori?” His voice is full of warning . . . and something else: an easiness and familiarity that I’ve never heard in his voice when talking to her. They hardly ever talk. She annoys him. He calls her clingy. I’m the one always mediating between the two of them. This reversal of our roles . . . that Zac is now the mediator between us . . . is just weird.

She holds up a hand as if to stop him from saying anything. “No, Zac. I told you not to bring her here.”

She told him? Like they somehow have a relationship now? A friendship? As though Zac listens to her? Since when?

Since you got labeled a carrier. I ignore the voice, refusing to give it validity, refusing to admit that I’m any different than I was last week. These are my friends. I’m still me. Not a monster. They should see that.

“She needs to go.”

“Who are you to decide where I can and can’t go?” I demand, the emotion I held in check seeping out.

Her gaze is back on me, withering and sharp, and I can’t help wondering where my friend went. Tori couldn’t pick out lip gloss without getting my opinion first. At that moment, I realize how much I had enjoyed being in control of our friendship—how gratified it felt knowing my best friend couldn’t win over my boyfriend. And yes, I knew she had wanted him. Like so many other girls, she had stared longingly after him. But winning Zac was something I alone had the power to do. Secretly, that had pleased me. Petty, but there it is. I swallow my suddenly constricted throat, not liking this insight into myself.

“You don’t go to our school anymore.” Tori flips her hair over her shoulder.

“This isn’t school. It’s a party.”

“You’re not one of us anymore.” For a moment, I hear the hurt in her voice. The accusation. As though getting identified as a carrier was somehow a betrayal of her. Like I failed her. I see it in her eyes, too. For a moment they glimmer wetly like she might cry. Then she blinks and the hint of tears vanishes.

Gradually, I become aware of the lack of conversation around us. It’s just the pump of music from the speakers. I glance at the faces of my old friends. There’s no comfort, no reassurance in their eyes. Carlton stares down into his cup as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

Zac looks pissed. He shakes his head at Tori. “I told you not to do this tonight.”

And that’s when I fully understand that they have been together . . . discussing this. Discussing me. At length. Tori knew I would be here tonight. Zac told her he was bringing me and she had objected. My best friend, who couldn’t even bring herself to call me, didn’t want me here. She didn’t want me around at all. And Zac had never mentioned any of this to me. Not even when I asked him about Tori.

“I told you not to bring her,” Tori returns, tapping her head. “Not smart. Try using your brain.” Her gaze scours him and there’s no missing her meaning. She thinks he’s using another part of his anatomy.