The Way to Game the Walk of Shame(7)

“As exciting as a class taught by my mother could be. She called me sweetie pie and fixed my hair in front of everyone.” Carly slumped into the seat across from me and rolled her dark eyes so far back, I worried they’d get stuck. “I was tempted to stab myself with a pen just to have an excuse to leave.”

I usually didn’t bring up her mom, but I needed something to distract Carly, at least for a bit, and her mom was her kryptonite. She could complain about her all afternoon if she wanted to.

Carly’s mom was a substitute teacher, and although she promised her kids she’d never work at their schools, the economy was so bad that sometimes she couldn’t help it. It was still money, after all. This was the first time she’d taught one of Carly’s classes, though—something Carly had been dreading all week.

I liked Mrs. Winters, but that was because she spoiled me. Carly swore her mom would still love me even if I egged their house weekly, because she approved of “my career choice.” In Mrs. Winters’s mind, doctors, lawyers, and dentists were the way to go. Either to become one or to meet one—like Carly’s older sister, Nancy, did. She married an optometrist. The crème de la crème.

So her younger daughter’s love for drama and music was a touchy subject between them. Although with Carly’s over-the-top theatrics, theater was the obvious choice.

Carly opened a bag of veggies, once again on her never-ending quest to lose weight. “I’m asking again. Why did you ditch me at the party? And why did you lie to me?”

“I don’t remember leaving the party.” I squinted up at her in confusion. “And when did I lie?”

“Uh, after you disappeared, I texted you a gazillion times, and finally you texted back that you were already home, remember?” She waved a carrot stick in the air like a sword. “Imagine my surprise when your mom called me the next day asking about you. You’re lucky that I’m brilliant at improv and was able to cover for you.”

Chewing on my lower lip, I tugged on my ear and tried to remember texting her, but I couldn’t. I still didn’t know what happened that night. “Sorry.”

She let out a heavy sigh and poked me with her carrot stick. “Seriously, though, do you know how worried I was? Don’t disappear on me like that again! And could you please sit up? I feel like I’m talking to a corpse.”

“Sorry,” I said again, pulling myself upright and propping my chin on my palm. “But you know, none of this would have happened if you hadn’t dragged me to that party. And gotten me drunk.”

Carly scoffed and rolled her eyes. “What else was I supposed to do, let you keep moping at home and camping out by your mailbox for news from Columbia like you’ve been doing all month? You’ll get accepted. One little party isn’t going to change that. This is our senior year! We have to experience it! And it was your own fault for not eating all day. That’s why it hit you so bad. You barely drank.”

Really? I swear I must have drunk a lot more to have felt that crappy. Maybe Evan was right. Maybe I was a lightweight.

My fingers tapped against the table. I was irritated and wanted to blame someone. Anyone. But I couldn’t blame Carly. Mainly because I knew she would blow up at me if I did. But she was right. It’s not like she dragged me kicking and screaming to the party. Or poured the drinks down my throat. The wait-list letter had made me panic, and I was stupid. Really stupid.

“Sorry,” I finally said.

“I forgive you.” She dusted off her hands and picked up her Diet Coke. “So now that we’re done with all the apologies, you have to tell me. What did you do after you left the party with Evan?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t know or won’t say?”

“I don’t know. Seriously.”

“Hmm.” Carly continued munching on another carrot stick. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. “As your friend, I know I’m supposed to believe you, but seeing how you and Evan were making out at the party in front of everyone makes it kind of hard. Especially when you both disappeared together afterward. It was all anyone could talk about.”

Great, my first time making out with a guy, and I can’t even remember any of it. At least now I knew how everyone found out.

My head flew up, and I winced. Oh god, what if I was awful? Like too-much-saliva, garlic-breath horrible? I’d only kissed three guys in my life, and none for more than ten seconds. And barely any tongue. I wasn’t exactly experienced. Then again, since Evan ended up taking me home, I guess I couldn’t have been that bad, right?

Not knowing the inner turmoil her comment caused, Carly picked up my unused fork and stabbed at the cold mystery meatloaf on my plate. “Are you sure you guys didn’t do it?”

“Carly!”

“Come on! You have to at least tell me if you did. Remember, I lied to your mom for you.” She waved the fork at me. “You owe me some details.”

“I told you. Nothing happened.”

“Seriously?” Her eyebrow rose. “You went home with the dude, and you guys didn’t do anything? How is that even possible? He’s Evan McKinley, for god’s sake.”

I looked down at my half-eaten plate. The memory of waking up in his bed was still fresh in my head. And the image of a nearly naked Evan was practically seared into my mind. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”