A Midsummer's Nightmare(40)

I couldn’t stand up anymore. My legs gave way, and I fell on all fours, puking next to the passenger’s side door of Theo’s SUV. Face wet, throat aching, I practically crawled around the front of Theo’s vehicle, trying to figure out what had just happened.

Then I saw Harrison.

His fists moved so fast that I barely saw them, but I heard the thuds as each hit Theo—one in the jaw, one in the stomach.

The last thing I saw before I passed out in the gravel driveway was Harrison’s foot colliding with Theo’s rib cage as he lay, groaning, in the grass.

Yes, I thought as the blackness swept over me. Harrison is definitely my friend.





18


When I felt the fingers brushing through my hair, my first instinct was to jerk away. My eyes snapped open, my hand swatting blindly. Theo’s perfect face and shiny teeth flashed in my mind. Only, now they looked much less attractive. The strong muscles in his jaw were menacing, and the glittery teeth were sharp and dangerous.

“No!” I gasped, rolling onto my side. But I wasn’t in the SUV anymore. Or lying in the driveway. It took me a second to realize that the ground beneath me was soft. There was even a pillow propping my head up.

“Shh… Whitley, it’s okay.”

My eyes found Harrison’s, and a sigh of relief exploded from my lips.

“Thank you,” I murmured, trying to sit up. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He put a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to lie back down. “Don’t get up yet, okay? Nathan is on his way.”

“What?”

“I called him.”

“Forget those thank-yous.”

I didn’t want Nathan to see me like this. I didn’t want him to know how badly I’d screwed up this time, how right he’d been about me. That I was a drunk and a whore. This was my fault, just like what had happened to Bailey was my fault. I didn’t want him to see that he’d been right.

“He’s coming to take you home,” Harrison said, sitting down next to me on the bed. I figured we must be in his room. The clock on the wall said it was just after three, which meant I hadn’t been out for long.

“But what about our slumber party?” I asked.

“It can wait,” he said, squeezing my hand. “You should go home tonight, sweetie.”

“I’d rather stay here.” But I knew I wouldn’t be good company for the fun sleepover I’d promised him.

“We’ll have a real slumber party before the summer’s over,” he said. “Just not tonight.”

I rolled onto my back again, looking over at Harrison. “So, how did you find us?” I asked. “Theo and me… How did you know to look for us?”

“I found your purse on the picnic table,” he said. “And my sister said she saw you hanging out with Theo. He’s not a good guy, Whitley. He’s my sister’s on-again, off-again thing, but they pretend to be friends when they’re off. It’s weird…. Anyway, he’s a jerk. I got worried. So I checked the front of the house and I heard you yelling, and there you were.”

“There we were,” I whispered.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I said. “I’m just really, really drunk.”

“Took you long enough to admit it.”

“Screw you.”

“You wish you could.”

I laughed, but it hurt my head, so I stopped. “Ow…”

Harrison smiled. He placed his large hands gently on my shoulders and pulled me upright. “Easy,” he murmured, just as the doorbell rang in the next room.

“You should get back to the party,” I said when he slid an arm around me, walking me into the living room. “I’m making you be a bad host.”

“Party’s over,” he said. “I kicked everyone out after I carried you inside.”

“Christ.” I dropped my head. “I’m so sorry. I totally ruined your party.”

He squeezed my shoulder as we reached the front door. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “I didn’t give a shit about the party. I only threw it because you wanted me to. You’re what I care about.”

I smiled and clumsily kissed his cheek. “Why do you have to be gay?”

“That’s just how God made me.” He reached out with his free hand and opened the door, already wearing his flirty smile. “Hey there.”

Nathan was standing on the front porch, dressed in the same battered blue jeans and black T-shirt he’d had on that morning. His hair was messier than usual, which meant he’d been asleep when Harrison called.

“Whitley…”

His dark eyes passed carefully over me, as if he was checking to make sure every part was still intact. When he looked into my face a moment later, he seemed relieved… and kind of sad. The expression reminded me of one Sylvia used right before she tried to hug me, and for a second I expected Nathan to extend his arms and pull me to him.

But he restrained himself. Instead, he turned to Harrison and said, “Thank you so much for calling me.”

“Get her home safe,” Harrison said, easing me onto the porch. I stumbled a little, and Nathan reached out to hold me up the way Harrison had.

“I can walk,” I told them, though that obviously wasn’t true.