He answered on three rings. “Sup, Savvy?”
“You don’t have to be a dick; you could respond to my message.”
“Yeah, well, I just paused porn to answer your call. Now who’s winning?”
I wait for him to laugh or smile or something.
“You got something to ask me, or are you just gonna sit there?”
“Whatever. Fuck you, then.”
“Definitely what every guy wants.” Then he hangs up on me.
* * *
“He’ll be here,” Chloe whispers.
“I don’t want him here. I want to get shitfaced, high, and not worry about anything but spending the weekend, that I took off, finding my center again.”
“Perfect idea.” Ziggy raises his red Solo cup, and I raise both of mine.
Little by little, a few more of Ziggy and Roach’s friends show up, and the small bonfire gets bigger.
As the sun begins to set, I’m so over it, and so wasted that I’m not even sure I’d recognize him if he did come.
Lies.
“I’m going to pee. Which way?”
Roach points to the trees. “Red scarfs. Follow the trail.”
Stumbling through the woods, having found no red scarfs, I just piss by a tree that could very possibly have poison oak on it. And I more than likely wipe with poison ivy.
Stomping and stumbling back, I follow the smoke.
Once on unrutted ground, I focus on the only red scarf-like material I’ve seen today. Roach is wearing a red bandanna. Asshole is either so stoned he thought his head was a tree, or he forgot to tie them on the trees to make markers. Either way, he’s my target, and anyone around him is collateral damage.
“What the fuck, assholes?” is all the warning they get when I charge toward them. And then I close my eyes and dive on them. “Nice directions, dickheads! I have bug bites on my ass and probably just wiped with poison ivy! Payback’s a bitch.”
When I stand up, Roach is laughing his ass off, and I kick some sand at him.
“Sleep light tonight. One eye open and shit.” Then I look for Chloe to give her hell. “What is wrong with all of—”
I clamp my mouth shut when I see him.
“Hey, Savannah.”
I don’t care how hot he looks; he asked for this version of me back, and he’s getting it.
I cross my arms and tap my bare foot that’s either numb because I’m drunk or because it’s getting cold. “How many times do I have to tell you my name’s Savvy?”
Everyone starts laughing.
“Why are you here?” I ask him then see his cousin, Truth. “And, you, please tell me you didn’t blast this party on that miserable fucking app. This is an asshole-free zone. Which, again, I ask the question”—I look back at Patrick—“why are you here?”
He sighs. “Come on, Savannah.”
I look at Truth. “Oh my God, was this one dropped on his head repeatedly on purpose? You can tell me the truth. I won’t turn his parents in. As a matter of fact, I don’t blame them.”
Patrick lunges at me, picks me up over his head, and I close my eyes because I’m going down and I’m sure I’m going down hard. But when he lays me on the ground, it’s softly.
“Has he always been such a giant child?” I ask Truth as I jump up to get away from him.
“He’s always been full of love, light, and a little fuck you.” She laughs sweetly.
“Who’s got the hooch?” Patrick asks.
I turn to find a drink, intent on drinking myself to oblivion, because this isn’t fun. This isn’t fun at all, but I asked for it.
I hear Truth whisper to him, “Am I driving?”
“Tent’s in the back, so—”
“What?” she snaps quietly.
“If you’re not having a good time, we jet. If you are, we stay.”
“My parents—”
He holds his arms up in the air. “Already got the okay.”
“ ’Cause he has a dick,” flies out of my mouth accidentally, but I have to keep going with it. “And … and he’s a white man. You’re all—”
“Shut it down, Pocahontas,” he interrupts me, a tight smile on his perfect lips.
I dive at him again, and he catches me and falls back hard. I land on top of him, again, and he laughs. It’s not sincere, and it’s embarrassing. I’m embarrassing, and I’m straddling him.
“See? You’re all the same.” I grab his neck and pretend to strangle him. “Indian with a dot, not a feather.”
He rolls me over easily and pins me to the ground. “Savannah, to me, you’re Pocahontas, because you’re a …” He looks at them all and mouths something.
Together, they say, “Savage.”
“You done?” he whispers his obvious annoyance so I’m the only one who hears him. Then he pops up and looks around. “Let’s hear some tunes?”
I walk away and try to get my shit straight, but I do so grabbing another drink, then going and sitting in a chair by the fire where a couple of Roach’s college friends are discussing politics. Although it’s not ever been my cause, I join in, and Truth sits next to me, listening while we bash everything corporate America stands for.
When I realize she’s gone, I feel bad. I feel like shit, actually. Then, as I walk up to her, I hear Patrick say, “Because she hates everything our family is about, and I’d never want to change a thing for her.”
I walk around the chair she’s sitting on to where he’s sitting on the ground. I think my intentions are to make peace, but I miss my mark and end up plopping right down on his lap.
“Savannah, what—” I put my hand over his mouth, and he finishes with a muffled, “—brings you here?”
“He’s afraid I’d change him is more accurate. That I’d have him joining the Peace Corps with me, and he’d end up wiping his million-dollar ass with leaves and drinking from red Solo cups.”
He laughs. “What would likely happen, Savannah—”
I interrupt him, as I lean in to look for the green in his eyes. “You’re so annoying.”
“—is the second I was balls deep in
