Here So Far Away(54)

“Uh, yaw.”

“Enough to stop smoking this?”

Doug gazed down at the joint in his hand like I’d told him it was a terminal puppy.

“Oh, give me some of that,” I said. “We can be pathetic together.”

Just as my fingers wrapped around the joint, a third hand came out of nowhere and knocked it onto Doug’s lap.

That was the fastest I’d seen Doug move since—ever.

Lisa was standing in the doorway by the chair, straddling the line between slushy and surprised. I had a feeling she’d punted the joint without thinking. Maybe she’d developed a muscle memory after years of trying to keep me away from the stuff.

She half smiled. “No one wants to see you high.”

It was the first time she’d spoken to me in months.

“Well, that’s true,” I admitted, “but it’s been kind of a shitty week.”

“Mine sucked too.”

“Yeah?”

“Big-time.”

“So let’s have some of this. Drugs solve everything, right, Doug?”

“Won’t make it worse,” he said.

Christina called from the sofa, “Couldn’t possibly make her sluttier.”

A few nervous laughs. Joshua looked uncomfortable beside Christina. Nat was tucked in the corner behind Skateboarder Brad, pretending to be absorbed in peeling the label off a beer bottle. Doug pulled his hat down so it covered his face entirely and sank deeper into the chair. Lisa just stood there.

The funny thing is, I think the other people in the room wanted me to slam Christina, or at least make her flinch. It would give them something to talk about on Monday. But as I sat there considering my options, hoping I gave the impression of deliberately taking my time, I couldn’t think of anything to say. Because I didn’t care. Real life was out there, beyond this cabin, after high school. This was nothing but a holding pen, and suddenly I didn’t give a damn about anyone in it—except Bill, out peeing in the snow. Certainly not Lisa and Nat, who were letting Christina bait me.

“This is . . .” I was going to say boring, but didn’t bother finishing the sentence.

Back in the coatroom, my foot decided Lisa’s key chain wanted to live under the radiator.

Bill was doing his thing at the side of the house. I stomped over a snowbank and prodded him in the back. “My privates are hanging out!” he said.

“Just how long have you been peeing?”

“It took me a while to find a place.” He shook and zipped.

“I want to go home, buddy. I’m sorry. I should have driven myself.”

“You’re bailing? Seriously?”

“Seriously, it’s getting mean in there.”

“Who’s picking on you?”

“Christina.”

“Fuck that ferret.”

The sudden flashing lights of a cop car sent us skittering around the back of the shed. It was something I’d always avoided in the past, getting busted at a shack party, thanks to my early curfew. Usually, the noise complaints didn’t roll in until well after midnight, and the cops couldn’t be bothered to break up parties before they got out of control, especially out in the boonies. But this cop didn’t always follow the unwritten rules.

“Young guy,” Bill said. “Do you know him?”

“He’s the constable who boards with Rupert.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Bad. Very bad.”

“Maybe you can get him onside.”

“Of everyone here, whose father is he mostly likely to call?”

Within minutes, the party was out in the snow. Francis was taking names, sending some kids on their way, making the less sober types stay back.

Christina looked terrified. She was inching behind Nat, who hid under the hood of a giant man’s parka that she’d managed to nick from someone.

“If I get grounded,” Lisa said, “I won’t be able to work on the play.”

I didn’t catch what Nat said from under her hood, but Lisa had tears in her eyes.

Bill gave me a shove, harder than I think he meant to, and I knocked into the woodpile, sending a couple of logs tumbling.

“Just taking a leak,” I said as Francis turned in our direction.

I yanked Bill out into the open with me.

Francis could not have seemed less interested. “Miss Warren. What would your father think about you being out here at this party?”

I felt about twelve years old. Christina and Lisa were both crying now. Joshua was off to the side, stomping his feet sulkily, and Keith was giving me the stink eye, like this was somehow my fault.

My pride smarted. I was not like them. I wouldn’t let him treat me like them.

“He’d make a big frigging deal of it, but you don’t have to. It’s just kids having fun.” I pointed to Christina. “This one has literally nothing else to live for.”

Prodding the bull, as my father would say.

“I mean, if you need to arrest someone to make your night, arrest me. Maybe they’ll give you another medal.”

He wouldn’t. I had too much on him. Mutually assured destruction. But no one else knew that, and I realized that I appeared to be going down on purpose, taking one for the team. People were sneaking off while Francis’s attention was focused on me. You could hear the clinking of bottles being tossed into the woods.