two types of guys she always leaned towards: jocks and preps.
Sadie had carried a torch for Matt for as long as I could remember. One day in the seventh grade Sadie had missed her bus, and Matt walked her home even though his bus was still in the parking lot, and he lived on the opposite end of town. Ever since that day Sadie laughed at whatever Matt said, even if it wasn’t funny, and would always find subtle ways to touch him.
She’d kill me later for pulling her away, but I grabbed her arm and tugged anyway. Poor Matt was left alone in midsentence.
Sadie narrowed her smoky eyes. “Liz, what the hell?”
“Did you see who’s here?” Her black hair was sleeked into a sexy ponytail that swayed when she went to look over her shoulder. I swatted at her arm.
“Don’t look!” Sheesh. Did I really have to explain that?
In the most pathetic attempt not to look obvious, she stretched her arms over her head and glanced behind her. She turned back, smoky gray eyes boring in on me. “Come on, what’s the big deal?” Sadie asked. I was happy she didn’t notice my eye roll. “It’s not like we’re going to hang out with him. He’s just here. You have to remember he had the same friends as us, and he stayed in contact with them.”
That’s what hurt the most. The fact he was able to keep a relationship with the majority of our friends but didn’t have the decency to end things properly with the girl he supposedly loved.
It was ridiculous to be holding on, but it didn’t stop me from doing so. Why should I let him off the hook just because he apologized?
“Fine, I guess, but I’m not talking to him.”
“No one is asking you to. Besides, Joe is here, so you two can find a corner and make out the whole time. But just for the record, if that’s what you plan on doing, you’re not sitting with me.”
“Duly noted.”
“Anyways, you look hot. So if you ask me, you won,” Sadie said, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder. She always looked like she had just walked off the red carpet of a Bollywood premiere, especially when she had to dress up in her sari. I don’t think she’d had a zit in her entire life either, unlike me, who constantly battled those irritating red spots.
“Won what?” I asked, unaware I was taking part in a game.
“The breakup.”
“I didn’t know it was a competition.”
“Of course it is. And just FYI, if you want Zach to keep away from you, you might want to stop looking so good.” She reached over and flipped my hair with the back of her hand.
“I’m not trying to look good for Zach.”
“If you say so,” she said with a roll of her perfectly outlined eyes. As if I knew Zach was going to be here. Trust me, if I knew, I never would’ve showed in the first place.
“I’m going to get a bucket. Do you want anything?” I might have been the one who’d started the conversation, but I needed to get away from it. And even though beer was not my drink of choice, it was cheap and did the trick.
“No, I’m good. I have to drive. Are you?”
“Joe can drive my car home.”
“When have you ever known Joe to stay sober?” she asked, arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
“He drinks all the time. It’s my turn.”
“If you say so.” She waved to Ruthie, who was making her way towards us.
I walked up to the bar and squeezed between the crowds of people. Why were there so many people here anyway? Didn’t they realize who was playing tonight? Purge wasn’t exactly . . . good.
The bartender leaned in, but I still had to shout my order. After some back and forth he figured out what I wanted and handed over a bucket filled with ice and six bottles of beer. I paid and just as I was about to push through the crowd, Zach stood in front of me with that stupid grin of his. When his hand reached out, I couldn’t stop from sucking in a nervous breath. His fingers skimmed the skin of my hand and reached in for a bottle. “Since when did you start drinking beer?” he asked as he twisted the cap off and took a swig.
Did I offer him one?
“Maybe if you called, you’d know.” I stared him down with an intensity I’d never felt before. I remembered the endless nights of staying home with my phone, waiting for it to ring. Waiting to hear his voice. Scared to accept the fact it was over. A year of buildup rose inside of me. But just as the anger was about to boil over and turn to pathetic tears I pushed past him.
His hand gripped my wrist and pulled me back, the bucket the only thing keeping me from being pushed against his chest. A chest I spent so many nights snuggled up to. I hated how I still knew exactly what it felt like to be there. How happy it once made me.
“Don’t touch me,” I yelled and his hand dropped my wrist like it scorched his skin. Shock swept across his features and for a single second I felt guilty for being so harsh. But then guilt was lost to the hole that still pierced my heart.
He rubbed the back of his neck, and his dark eyes softened. Warm breath shot chills up my spine as he leaned in close to my ear. “I told you I was sorry.”
I stepped back, knocking into a guy behind me. My balance wavered, but before I could fall, Zach’s hand reached out and caught me. I glanced down at his hand, and just as I felt the heat radiating from his touch, he let go.
“Sorry won’t give me back the time I wasted crying over you. It won’t take back the fact my crying overtook my schoolwork. And it definitely won’t change the fact that it cost me the only thing I ever really wanted. My ticket out of here.”
Shock-widened eyes stared back at me. For once, Zach was speechless. Good. I didn’t care what he had to say. I pulled out a bottle, popped the top and walked away, guzzling until nothing was left.
And crap! He totally abandoned my sweet-ass table. Figures. I couldn’t count on him. I leaned against a graffitied wall, the bucket hanging like a wristlet as I popped open another beer.
An hour later, Scott and the band were finally ready to start and I’d had enough. I’d drunk all the beer, minus the bottle Zach stole.
Joe was helping with the last-minute setup and I stumbled over to him. “I’m ready.”
“What? Babe, the guys are just getting ready to go on.” He stuck his lip out in his sad puppy-dog way.
“I’m tired.” I pouted my lip back and waited for him to give in to my cuteness.
“Go back to the booth and take a nap. We’ll leave as soon as they’re done. Promise.”
I rolled my eyes and staggered away, reached into my bag and pulled out my keys. I was usually the DD, but tonight . . . oops.
“I don’t think so.” My keys vanished, and I jumped to grab the hand that took them.
Zach! Ugh! I should’ve known. “Give me my keys!” He was always taller, and while I used to love how he towered over me, at times like these it was seriously inconvenient.
“No way in hell I’m letting you drive.”
I planted my hands on my hips and did my best not to sway. “Why not?”
“Because you’re drunk.”
“You’re not my keeper.”
“No, I’m not. But since your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care, someone has to. And besides, your brother would kick my ass if he knew I’d let you drive like this.”
“Of course, because you two still talk. Well la-de-freakin-da. Give me my damn keys.” I jumped again and tried to grab them, but regardless of my drunken coordination, Zach was quick. In one swift motion, he shoved the keys in his pocket and tossed me over his shoulder.
Face-to-face with his butt, I couldn’t help remembering the time we went skinny-dipping at Front Beach. Even swimming naked side by side, he never pressured me to do anything I didn’t want to. As always, he was the perfect gentleman. Never letting his hands wander too far south.
Stupid memories.
“Put me down,” I demanded, but he didn’t listen.
