Shut Out(34)

“I still cannot believe Kelsey is wearing that,” she said after we’d been hanging out and eating pretzels for about an hour. “Someone should tell her that yellow isn’t her color. Oh, and I think that someone should be me. Be right back—”

I grabbed her elbow and held her in place. “Leave her alone.”

“Party pooper.” Chloe took a sip of her Diet Coke and scanned the dance floor again. “At least Susan had the sense to wear something cute. Oh, and Mary’s dress is so pretty. I wonder where she got that? It’s probably expensive, though. Damn it. And—hey, looky there.”

“What?” I looked up from the pan of cupcakes I had been examining on the table, trying to decide between chocolate-on-chocolate or chocolate-on-vanilla. “Look at what, Chloe?”

“Your lover boy is standing over there,” she said, gesturing across the dark gymnasium.

I squinted, thinking I’d see Randy standing there. Thinking he’d be looking at me. Thinking he’d walk over, take me in his arms, and tell me he was sorry for not taking me seriously and that he wanted the feud to end, too. Thinking we’d dance until midnight when they finally kicked us out and for once I wouldn’t care who was watching and—

No.

No, it wasn’t Randy at all. It was Cash. Cash was the one standing across the dance floor, and he wasn’t looking at me. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded loosely over his chest as he talked animatedly to a pretty sophomore in a dress so short I wondered if it was meant to be a shirt instead. He was flirting with her, and the girl was inching closer and closer, touching his arm when she laughed.

“That’s not funny,” I told Chloe, forcing my eyes off Cash and continuing my mental cupcake debate. I reminded myself that I had no reason to be upset. I was with Randy. I shouldn’t care about Cash at all.

Still, I couldn’t fight that nagging feeling in my stomach. That irrational possessiveness over Cash. I just wanted to march over there and pull him away, keep him to myself and hide him from all the other girls.

Crap. Cash wasn’t supposed to be on my mind tonight. I’d promised myself.

“I think it’s funny,” she teased. “Randy might not, though.”

I groaned. If only she knew.

“Speaking of Randy,” Chloe continued, “you should probably go find him. It’s almost time for the Homecoming Court announcements.”

“Yeah.” I sighed. “All right. I’ll be back.”

I grabbed a chocolate-on-chocolate cupcake and headed off in search of Randy. Really, there was no important reason for me to find him, but I did want to be next to him when they announced that he’d won. It was just good girlfriend behavior. I should be there to smile and cheer and hug him when the “unexpected” announcement came—whether he liked it or not.

When I finally reached the other side of the gym, I found Shane leaning against the wall, sipping a Coke that was probably spiked with something. Knowing Shane, something strong.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hey there, Lissa Daniels,” he said. He raised his Coke. “Would you like to say hello to your distant cousin, Jack?”

“No, thank you.”

Shane shrugged and took a swig of his Jack and Coke. “So what’s up?”

“Not much,” I said. “Where’s Randy?”

And right then—when Shane’s big blue eyes darted toward me and away so fast I barely noticed, and his free hand shoved forcefully into his jeans pocket—right then I knew something was wrong.

“Shane?” I asked slowly.

“He’s, uh, in the bathroom. He’ll be out in a minute.”

I thought back to when I had been standing with Chloe next to the refreshments table. It had been a good ten minutes since I’d noticed Randy over here with Shane—way, way more time than he needed in the bathroom.

“Thanks,” I said, moving around Shane and heading toward the boys’ bathroom.

“What?” Shane sounded terrified as he reached for my arm with one hand while struggling to hold on to his bottle of Coke with the other. “Lissa, wait a sec. You can’t go into the boys’ bathroom.”

I sidestepped his attempts to reach me. I wasn’t just going to wait around to find out what was going on.

“Lissa, wait. You really don’t want to do that—”

And I knew he was hiding something from me.

As fast as my heels allowed me to move, I shoved through the freshmen, toward the bathrooms. I pushed against the heavy wooden door of the boys’ room—a door that was supposed to be propped open by a doorstop at all times. As soon as I stepped into the tiny hallway, separated from the rest of the large bathroom by a tiled wall, I heard the noises.

A suction-y noise mixed with heavy breathing and one very female giggle.

I skirted around the wall as fast as I could, daring myself to see who was on the other side. Even though, really, I already knew.

Sure enough, there was Randy. He was with some leggy blond girl (or maybe she only looked leggy because of the way Randy had her skirt hiked up to her hips, exposing a string of her thong). They were leaning against the wall opposite the urinals—classy—with her back pressed against the tiles and his front pressing into her. They were making out in the most vulgar way possible, and by the way her fingers were scurrying across the zipper of his pants, it appeared as though the scene was about to turn into a lot more than just making out.