She Drives Me Crazy(32)

“You might wanna check this guy’s breath first,” he says with a grimace.

“It’s not that bad,” Gunther says, but now that I’m closer to him, I can definitely smell a strong, funky garlic smell.

“Oh woof, that’s bad.”

“Told you,” Kevin says. “Dude put raw garlic bits on there.”

Irene watches this interaction with her nose wrinkled. When I turn away from the garlic sticks box, she grabs my elbow. “Thank you. I would have refused to talk to you all night.”

“Well, as it is, darling, maybe you can escort me to the kitchen.”

“The way they flirt is so cute,” Honey-Belle whispers to Danielle.

“I completely agree,” Gunther says, standing as close to Honey-Belle as possible while keeping his hand over his mouth.

Irene starts to head for the kitchen, but I hold her back.

“What?” she whispers.

“You need to hold my hand. We’re here to sell this to Tally, remember?”

“God, you’re a psycho,” she says, but she takes my hand anyway.

We make our way through the throng of people, all of whom stare at Irene and then at me. By the time we reach the center of the house, my heart is trilling, expecting Tally’s face to appear any moment. I scan the room out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t see her anywhere.

“Well?” Irene prods.

“She’ll show up. Let’s get a drink.”

It’s hot and crowded in the kitchen, but the sea of people parts for us until we find the island with the drinks stationed on it. I grab the vodka and lemonade to mix myself a drink.

“What do you want?” I ask Irene.

“Water.”

“Ha, ha. I’ll make you one of these.”

“No, I just told you. Water.”

She butts me aside, grabs a Solo cup, and fills it from the sink. She sticks a lime wedge on the rim of the cup so it looks like a mixed drink.

“What?” she says, seeing my expression. “Do you think I want people giving me shit for not drinking?”

I shake my head. This girl never ceases to surprise me. It’s a welcome distraction from worrying about Tally.

“So Danielle totally has a crush on Kevin,” Irene says.

My heart stops. “What? No she doesn’t.”

“Please. It’s visible from a mile away.”

“That’s—it’s not—”

She quirks an eyebrow.

“Fine,” I grumble. “But keep your mouth shut about it.”

“Who am I gonna tell? Besides, I like Danielle.”

I’m about to respond when her face changes. Her eyes widen, her breath stops. “Shit,” she says, looking over my shoulder. I try to turn, but she plants a hand on my arm.

“What?” I say, wrenching free of her grasp.

I spin around. My eyes find the stoners passing a joint, the soccer girls flirting with the baseball players, the kid throwing up in the corner, and—

Tally.

In the middle of the room.

Making out with another girl.

All the air is sucked out of my lungs. It feels like my heart’s been flattened by a slab of concrete.

It’s a girl I’ve never seen before, so she must not go to Grandma Earl. Probably a Candlehawk girl, based on the way she’s dressed. And she’s pretty. Tally is kissing her with so much enthusiasm it’s almost like she’s trying to eat her. Everything inside me sears with pain.

There’s a warm hand on my shoulder.

“Stop watching,” Irene says, pressing firmly until she can spin me around.

“But I—”

“No, Scottie,” she says, holding me in place. Her voice is softer than usual. “Don’t torture yourself.”

We make eye contact. She actually looks concerned, but I don’t have the emotional bandwidth to care. I slip free of her grasp and hurry to the back patio.

At the last second, when I close the door, I look back to see Tally watching me.



* * *



I’m not sure how long I sit there for. It’s so cold that I’ll have to go inside soon, but my heart is aching and I don’t know how to make it stop.

Shouldn’t I have expected this? I mean, I’ve been pretending to move on, but why wouldn’t Tally actually move on? Is she dating that girl, or merely hooking up with her? Is she kissing lots of pretty girls at parties?

The back door snaps open behind me. Irene stands there, fiddling with the long necklace that hangs over her scarlet sweater. She purses her lips like she’s trying to decide something.

“Don’t tell me you’ve come to gloat,” I mumble. “I’ve already realized my plan has backfired. I don’t need you to rub it in.”

She sits next to me, kicking her wedge boots against the steps. “It’s truly heartwarming how you always expect the best from me.”

“So you’re not here to gloat?”

“I’m here to tell you that your ex-girlfriend looks like a terrible kisser, and the only person I feel sorry for is that poor girl whose face she was chewing on. Seriously, that was heinous. Did you even like kissing her?”

I’m not sure why I answer. “I thought I did.”