They Wish They Were Us(59)

I train my eyes on Jared. He stands on the right side of the stage, red-faced and elated. His brow is damp and his bass rests on one knee, which juts out into a lunge. He rocks back and forth setting a solid rhythm for Bryce’s janky guitar chords. Sweat drips from his brow and his eyelids flutter. I recognize his hyper-focused face, the one he gets when he’s concentrating on a geometry practice set or trying to get through a dense book. But now his mouth extends into an easy smile. This isn’t work. It’s the time of his life.

When the song ends, Jared tosses his hair and wipes his face on his white T-shirt. He looks up as the crowd cheers and his eyes scan the room. His gaze lingers on where I stand for just a second and I wonder if he can see me through the bright lights. I wonder if he knows I’m here, that I’m rooting for him.

Before I can tell, they rush into another song, just as loud and just as fast. The Garage feels like a bounce house, expanding and contracting with every launched step. The wooden floorboards creak and sag.

“They’re killing it!” Adam yells over the music. His voice is warm and wet in my ear. “Jared’s amazing!”

He is, I want to say back. He really is. But now I can only focus on Nikki and Quentin, dancing together in the corner, singing all the words, lyrics I don’t know and wasn’t invited to learn. I miss them in my bones, like Shaila but almost worse because they’re actually still here, just across the room.

“I need some air!” I scream back at Adam. I wait a beat, hoping he’ll follow me, but he doesn’t. Instead he nods and keeps his eyes focused on the stage, pumping his fist in the air.

I turn on my heel and squeeze through the sea of sweaty bodies, until I reach the side door. The heavy metal lurches forward when I shoulder it open and the freezing wind shocks me, whipping my face and tossing my hair. Suddenly I can breathe again. I’m free. I lean back against the brick wall and lift my chin, spotting Aries the ram. I trace his horns and picture him headbutting the other nightwalkers, galloping through the sky. My fingers are frozen from the chill but I don’t care. It feels good to not feel them, to let something go numb.

I’m not alone for long. The door heaves open, bringing sounds from the Garage into the alley. Guitar chords carry into the night.

Nikki emerges from the darkness and stomps on the frozen concrete in designer black combat boots. I press myself against the building, hoping she doesn’t see me. “I know you’re out here,” she calls.

I wince. I’m not ready for this. I’ve never been good at fighting or confrontation. When Shaila was still here she was the one who stood up for all of us. She was the one who slapped Derek Garry’s hand away when he tried to reach up my dress during one of the pops. She was the one who told Liza Royland to suck a dick after she let the air out of the tires of my bike in middle school. She was the one who reported Assistant Coach Doppelt for staring at us too long in the locker rooms after phys ed. Shaila was our guard dog. I was the puppy trying not to piss on the floor.

I realize, standing here in the freezing cold, I don’t want to fight with Nikki. I don’t want to be mad at her. I want to hug her and pretend like we’re not on opposite teams. I want to know if she’d believe Graham, if she would be as hungry for the truth as I am, if she saw what I saw. If she knew what I knew.

I take a deep breath in. “Here,” I say, stepping forward.

Nikki clomps toward me so we’re face-to-face, exactly the same height. Her mouth contorts into a hurt frown, a pout. Her eyes are wild. She’s had a few drinks. Not too many, but just enough to feel a fire in her belly, to muster up her wannabe-Shaila courage. Maybe I should find mine, too.

“I’m mad at you,” Nikki says, crossing her arms and cocking her hip. “I’m really fucking mad.”

“I’m mad at you, too.” My words are more wobbly than hers. Unstable.

“You said we’d do this together. But then you fucking bailed. You left me all alone!”

I scoff. “I left you? You have Quentin, Marla, Robert. Henry, even. You have everyone,” I counter. “I’m the one who’s all alone.”

“It’s not the same without you,” she says. “You know that.”

“You went against everything we said we would do.” I fight the tears threatening my vision.

“That’s not true.”

I bite my lip. I want to scream. “You know it is. You made the pops so much worse for them. You have the power now and you’re acting just like them. Like Derek, and Jake, and all the other boys who put us through hell.”

Nikki’s eyes narrow. “No, I’m not.”

“How can you not see this?” I feel like I’m losing my mind, like she’s totally delusional.

“I’m not the queen of the universe, Jill. Anyone can say no. It’s not like we’re forcing them to do anything.”

“But you are,” I say. My throat is scratchy and raw. “We have the power. They don’t. Did you ever feel once, when we were freshmen, that we could say no? Think of how they feel right now.”

“This is so classic, Jill. You’re just trying to protect yourself. So if anything goes down, if anything happens to your precious little brother, you won’t be the one to blame. You always let Shay take the fall for you. You’re letting me do it now.”