TWELVE

Pretty much everyone at Todd’s party is smashed. Believe you me. Even the dog looks stoned from all the second-hand pot smoke in the air. I push my way through the crowd. Where’s Emma? Not in the hallway. Not in the living room. How ’bout the kitchen? Someone hands me a glass as I walk through the doorway. I have no idea what it is, but it looks red and icy and it tastes sweet. I drink it down in a couple of gulps. And then someone hands me another. I drink that too. And then another.

What the hell. Maybe this is what I need to fall asleep.

Problem is, when you don’t even weigh a hundred pounds with your snow boots on, it doesn’t take more than one or two drinks to put you over the edge. After the third, Todd’s party loses any and all charm for me. After only ten minutes, the smell of smoke is turning my stomach. And the reek of alcohol is hanging in the air like a smelly damp cloud. Plus, the music is so loud I can feel my skull throb. Giving up on finding Emma, I slide open the screen door and wander outside to the backyard. Todd’s dog follows me outside, clearly happy to get into the fresh air. A few couples are in the swimming pool, fooling around in the water. I pretend they’re large fish and keep walking. Jeepers creepers, what is it about water that makes people so horny?

The air is better out here. I take some deep breaths. My head is spinning in slow-moving circles. It’s kind of nice, actually. I drop down onto one of the lime green lounge chairs that surround the pool. I close my eyes and the spinning gets a bit faster. Like I’m riding one of those teacup rides Dad used to take me on at the annual Canada Day fair. I lean my head back on the lime green cushion, curl onto my side, and try my best to enjoy it. Maybe sleep is finally on the way. My thoughts drift back to Ben and the spinning goes faster still.

Suddenly, I feel a tapping on my shoulder. My eyes open to a narrow squint. Bleary Emma is standing above me hugging a beer, her eyes glassy like lake water. Beside her is Bleary Todd — owner of this house of wrecked kids.

“Hey, s’up?” I mumble. My words sound like they’re coming from the other side of the yard. Wild. “I’ve been looking for you, Emma.”

She has a freckled arm wrapped around Todd’s shoulder. Just like a polka-dot scarf, I hear a little voice that doesn’t sound entirely unlike Aunt Su’s say in my head. Har-har.

“Just here to cash in on a little bet,” Emma says, her words running into each other like a melting cherry slushie. “Todd didn’t believe me when I told him you were here. When I said you were out in the backyard, he thought I was yanking his chain. Bet me five bucks.”

As soon as that last word is past her lips, she lets out a loud hiccup and a giggle. Todd laughs too. “Hey, Lily, did you bring any party favours from your aunt’s garden?” He’s smiling at me, probably too drunk to realize how hurtful that comment is. Pulling the bottle of beer out of Emma’s hands, he tilts his head back and drains it dry. My stomach lurches at the sight. All I want to do is close my eyes and get back to my spinny teacup ride.

“So you see?” Emma turns and punches him in the ribs. “She’s here like I said she was. Now pay up, smartass!”

I watch as Bleary Todd fishes a fiver out of his pocket and slaps it into Bleary Emma’s hand. My eyelids begin to feel like there are lead weights attached to them. Emma disentangles herself from Todd’s arm and holds up the bill in triumph.

“Hey, Lily, I’ll treat you to some fries. Maybe at the drive-thru later tonight?”

Her voice rises to a squeal on the words drive-thru. With a wink, she turns around and stumbles back towards the house. As soon as we’re alone, Todd sits down on the end of the lounge in the big empty space where my short legs can’t reach. He shoots me a sheepish, little-boy smile. “Sorry about that whole bet thing. I just didn’t believe it when she said you were here tonight. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you out at any party before.”

“Yeah, I usually try to avoid scenes like this.”

Todd’s smile widens as he leans back on his elbows. Wow, he has nice teeth.

“Why? Are you shy or something?”

There’s that word again. “No,” I snap, maybe a little too harshly. “Not at all. Just highly selective about the company I keep.”

Todd sits up straight and I can see his pale eyebrows scrunch together with hurt. “So why’d you bother coming here tonight if we’re all so beneath you?”

I roll my eyes at my own stupidity. Now can you see why I avoid people? I always end up saying the wrong thing and coming off like a bitch. I feel bad. I reach for his hand to apologize. Problem is at that moment, Bleary Todd is sporting four hands (and two heads). Trying to focus my eyes as much as possible, I take a shot in the dark and somehow manage to choose the one of the hands that isn’t a drunken mirage.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I’m actually glad I came here tonight. I’ve always been curious to, you know, see what these things are all about.”

I can tell he likes my answer because the scrunch in his forehead smoothes right out. We stare at each other like that for a few seconds. Todd is actually pretty good looking. And I’m not just thinking that because I’m smashed. Why have I never noticed him before? Like, really noticed him? And, more to the point, why does he suddenly seem to be noticing me?

That’s when one of the couples who were making out in the pool climb up the side and throw their dripping selves down onto the lime green lounge chair beside us. And then they start flopping around like two giant fish out of water. Suddenly the view is all sliding tongues, speeding hands, and twisting torsos. It’s like a scene right out of Aunt Su’s romance novels — without the luxury of being able to close the book and toss it onto the floor. Yeah, holding Todd’s hand and watching these two make out right beside us is quite possibly one of the more awkward moments I’ve ever had to endure. Then the girl lets out a little moan and the whole thing officially takes the gold medal for cringe-worthiness.

Forgetting all about Todd for a minute, I close my eyes so I don’t have to watch the X-rated scene going on beside me. But the slurpy sound of their lips sucking on each other is impossible to escape. I’m just about to get up and run away when I feel a hand gliding around the back of my neck. Todd must have taken my closed eyes as some kind of an invitation because the next thing I know, his mouth is on mine. My eyes pop open in shock. For a few seconds, I can’t even move. His lips are kind of chapped and his breath smells like beer and weed. After I get over my initial impulse to smack him away, I decide to let him push his tongue into my mouth. I mean, what the hell; I’m dying anyway, right?

Okay, confession time again. This is kind of my first kiss. Yup, that kiss you’re destined to remember forever because it’s the first real one. Except I’m not sure I want to be remembering it forever. Even if my forever is only a few more days. For starters, it’s a whole lot messier than I imagined it would be. When you watch people making out in the movies or on tv, it all seems so perfect and neat. And this is all wet and kind of squishy — like there’s an oversized goldfish swimming around in my mouth. Don’t get me wrong, I want to enjoy it. The aching hole inside me that Aunt Su left needs to be filled and this seems like a decent way to do it. So, I let Todd kiss me for a while. I even kiss him back. After a few minutes, he starts to pick up speed. I can hear his breath panting against my face and I know he’s getting way more excited about this than I am. As much as I want to like the whole first-kiss thing, it just isn’t happening for me. Cute as Todd is, he’s kind of slobbery and his tongue sweeping through my mouth is about as exciting as a dental cleaning. When I feel his hands climb up under my shirt and start fumbling with the back of my bra, I decide to put the brakes on. For God’s sake, a klutz like Todd could work for an hour with those tiny little clasps and not get anywhere. Just the thought of it smashes any infinitesimal chance at the romance I’m trying to force myself into feeling.

I’m so over it.

My first kiss, sealed forever in a flush of beer-flavoured spit. This is what all the fuss is about? Call me crazy, but I think dying alone while counting the tiny stucco bumps on my bedroom ceiling is better than this. See what a freak of nature I am? The only teenager in the world who doesn’t like to party, get wasted, and have casual sex.

Pushing him off me with one hand, I drag the other over my mouth to wipe away the trail of his spit on my lips. “Stop, Todd,” I say, swinging my legs off the lounge. “I’m tired. I want to go home now.”

He looks so disappointed — like a kid whose ice cream cone just fell over into the sand. “Why?” he whines. “I thought we were just getting started.”

Sheesh! Is this how guys get their way with girls? By handing out guilt trips?

“Sorry, I … I just gotta go.”

“Wait!”

Too late. I jump up and start walking away before he can say anything else. My head is still spinning, but I manage to get away without falling over.

Walking home is a balancing act, but I make it in one piece. And the entire time, all I can think about is Ben. And the stack of secrets he seems to be working so hard to hide.

And how goddamned much I wish it had been him kissing me tonight instead of Todd.