Shuffle, Repeat(64)

I turn it over in my mind. I don’t know why Ainsley cares if I’m mad at her, which I’m not. Not exactly. It’s more that I don’t want anyone to get hurt and this seems like it has big potential for hurting everyone involved, Ainsley included.

“I have to tell you something,” I finally say, and watch Ainsley’s smile vanish. “In the name of sisterhood, I think you need to know.”

“Go on.” This time her voice is sharp. Cold.

“When you and Oliver started dating, Theo made a stupid bet with him about how fast Oliver could”—I pause and Ainsley waits, tapping her foot against the porch floor—“have sex with you.” It sounds so awful when I say it out loud, and suddenly I hate myself for being the one to inflict this knowledge on her. “Theo bet Oliver he couldn’t do it by the Fourth of July. That’s why Oliver took that family sciences class, because he lost the bet.” Ainsley stays quiet and I can’t tell if she’s furious or if she’s going to burst into tears or what, so I keep talking to get it over with, the words coming out faster and faster. “Yeah, it was crappy of Oliver to take the bet, but maybe it was worse of Theo to make it in the first place. He brought it up in the locker room or something, so everyone was listening and all the athletes know about it. I’m so sorry, Ainsley….What?”

Ainsley has burst all right, but not into tears. She’s laughing, the sound of it ringing hard and clear through the night air. It’s not joyful. It’s scornful. “God, June. You’re just so earnest. It’s kind of adorable.”

I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m pretty sure she’s not giving me a compliment.

“I already know about their stupid bet,” she tells me. “I’ve known forever. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Indignation rises in me and spills out. “Are you kidding? A whole locker room of * boys speculating about how fast you’ll put out? It’s awful! It’s gross! It’s—”

“It’s a lie,” Ainsley says.

“The bet? The bet was a lie?”

“No. Oliver taking the bet was a lie. When Theo brought it up in front of everyone, it was a done deal. Oliver and I had already had sex, but Oliver didn’t want all those guys to know it. He thought it would make me look bad.”

I shove back the part of me that cares about Oliver having sex.

“He told everyone he lost the bet to save…like your honor or something?”

“I know.” Ainsley shakes her head. “Stupid, isn’t it?”

It’s not stupid to me. It’s revelatory. Oliver let me think he was an * jock so he could protect Ainsley’s privacy. Oliver might be the best person I’ve ever known. Oliver is a prince.

Ainsley hops up. “I need another drink. We’re cool?”

“Sure.” Because what else would I say?

She beams at me. “Awesome. See you in there.” She traipses back into the house. I look down at the plastic cup I’m holding and reflexively take a gulp. It’s not very good. I don’t love the taste of beer and this particular cup is already getting warm, so I stand and dump the contents over the porch railing. I have an urge to throw my cup into the darkness beyond, but that would be littering, so I don’t.

I stay there for a while, wondering how to approach Oliver on Monday. Sure, I’m not thrilled about the way he’s been behaving, but I was supposed to be his friend and I accused him of something he didn’t do. I accused him of the exact opposite of what he did. I started off the school year by believing the worst of him, and then I believed it again after he’d already proven me wrong.

Maybe I’m the jock-hole.

I wait for clarity that never comes. Finally, I’m tired of being alone and tired of slapping at mosquitoes, so I decide to see if Shaun is ready to leave. I’m starting toward the front door when I hear the sound of an engine and see headlights approaching fast as a car rumbles up the long driveway from the road. There’s a spray of gravel as the behemoth grinds to a stop, nestling in a grove of trees beyond the other cars, at the edge of the darkness.

I stand on the porch, frozen, as the door slams and Oliver appears, stalking toward me, winding his way through the other cars. I don’t need to see his face to know he’s pissed. I can tell by the way his body is moving, by the fact that he slammed the behemoth’s door. Someone must have texted, or called, or posted a photo of the party online.

Oliver knows about Ainsley and Theo.

I rush to the top of the porch stairs just as Oliver storms up them. He stops when he reaches me. “Hey,” he says, but there’s no true greeting in his voice. I’m a blip on the radar, a fork in the road. An obstacle to get through.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” It’s an attempt to stall him, an accidental echo of what Ainsley said when I arrived.

“Yeah, I thought so, too.” Oliver’s whole body is vibrating, angry, tense. “But I got some information that made me think I should be social after all.”

He shoulders past me into the house and it’s a full thirty seconds before the commands make their way from my brain to my feet so I can chase after him. More people have come in from the backyard, and now the living room is full and loud. Someone cranked up the music and it’s finally starting to look more like a house party in a movie: dancing and drinking and groping. I don’t see Oliver, but Shaun is by one of the coffee tables, bopping around with a guy from the theater department. I grab him mid-bounce. “Quick, where’s Ainsley?”