Chapter 15

The Party

In addition to me, Jen and Connor, Meg picks up two other kids and we all crowd into the car. The second she switches on the ignition, the music blasts on, super loud. We all start singing along even though no one knows the words. Meg opens the moon roof and Jen sticks her head through and screams at everyone standing around in the parking lot, “See you at Carolyn’s!” Then she sits down and we pull out onto the road, singing and dancing as maniacally as we can from sitting positions in a crowded car.

When we arrive at Carolyn’s I can see that things are already crazy. At the speed of about a dozen people per minute, kids are heading across her backyard, down into her basement through the open bulkhead doors in back of her house.

Word’s gotten out. Her parents aren’t home. Connor, Meg, Jen and I use the front door and I end up hanging out in the kitchen for a while, talking to my friend Nicole, who’s on the cross country team. There’s some pretty good dip getting passed around with potato chips and nachos. So I grab a couple of sodas for Nicole and me. We sit down at the table together and start eating and gossiping about who’s dating who on the team and whose race times have been really good so far this season.

After about a half hour, I head for the basement to see if Wyatt’s here yet. Maybe he came in through the bulkhead and I missed him.

The chaos in the Allen’s basement is generating some serious heat. At the foot of the stairs, a sweaty mosh pit of bodies jumps and jangles and twists to wicked loud rock and roll. Carolyn and her boyfriend are off in one corner stooping over an Ipod dock. I can feel the bass line of the music throbbing in my stomach. Carolyn loves to party and knows what kind of music’s best for dancing. I squish my way over to her and say hello. She smiles and nods back at me, her head bobbing to the beat. Trying to talk in this noise would be futile unless you’re a good lip reader so I just smile and look around until I spot Jen and Meg.

They’re a few feet away, dancing with Connor and Ryan, in the middle of a bunch of people. Wiggling past a few dancing couples; I duck and dodge the waving arms and kicking feet. I’m almost there when someone grabs my arm from behind and yanks on it. I tumble into Wyatt’s rock solid chest as he hugs me, kisses my cheek and yells into my ear.

“C’mon, let’s dance!”

Wyatt turns out to be a fun person to dance with. One second both his hands are up in the air; the next they’re around my waist, turning me so my back’s to him, then twirling me so we’re dancing face-to-face again. He dips me and spins me until I’m laughing so hard I almost pee.

After about a half hour of dancing madness I scream into Wyatt’s ear. “I have to go to the bathroom. Wait for me. I’ll only be a minute.”

Shoving my way through the crowd, I run upstairs. There’s a bathroom in the basement but I figure that’s where everyone will go. I don’t want to wait in line, so I head for Carolyn’s parents’ bathroom on the second floor. Sure enough, after hustling up two flights of stairs and running down a short hallway, I find their bathroom and it’s unoccupied. They have really good soap in there too, the kind that comes out all foamy when you pump it and it smells like melons.

I can’t lollygag though; Wyatt’s waiting for me on the dance floor. Flinging open the bathroom door, I come face-to-face with Colleen Foley, the queen of the Juicies. And she doesn’t have to use the bathroom. She’s looking for me. If I had a nickel for every time Colleen Foley went looking for me, I’d have a nickel. Only tonight. Only now.

Why does she want to talk to me?

After Meg and I showed our movie last year for the big project, Colleen and her friends called me “Ghost Girl.” They pretended they were joking with me, but they said it kind of mean. Like they were saying “weirdo” or “outcast” or “girl who’ll never be as popular as we are.” I don’t even care. Who’d want to be friends with them anyway? Not me.

She doesn’t call me “Ghost Girl” tonight, though. She calls me Annabelle.

“So, Annabelle, are you and Wyatt Silver together?”

“No, we’re just friends.” We’re not really even friends. We’re paranormal business associates, but I’m not going to explain that to Colleen Foley.

“Oh, good. I thought you two might be together because I saw you dancing and stuff and you’re always with Wyatt in the hallways at school.”

“Nope. Just friends. He sits next to me in history class. And his uncle is friends with my mother. So I have to be nice to him. You know how that is.”

“Yeah, the parental connection, totally awkward. Thanks for the info. Have fun!” And she’s off.

I head downstairs. In the kitchen, I run into Ryan and Meg who’re getting ready to leave.

“Let’s get out of here. I’m exhausted. Plus, the booze has appeared,” Ryan says.

Looking around, I notice that lots of the kids near us are holding bright red and blue plastic party cups.

“Hurry up and find Wyatt, Annabelle. It’s wicked noisy and tons more cars have arrived, just within the last ten minutes.” Ryan sounds worried.

“Carolyn must’ve posted an invitation on Facebook.” I actually think I saw it last week.

“Cars are parked all over the place out there.”

Every room on the first floor of the house is swarming with kids. Peeking down the stairs, I notice the basement’s packed, too.

“What if one of Carolyn’s neighbors calls the police? If the cops show up we could all get kicked off the team,” Ryan warns.

It occurs to me that it’s not just the soccer players who’ll get in trouble if the cops arrive. Tons of people from the cross-country team are here, too; if we all got arrested that would be the end of the season. Plus, my uncle’s a cop and he’d be pissed if I get arrested. I’d have to deal with his wrath in addition to my parents’.

“We’ll get Jen and Connor. Annabelle, you go find Wyatt and tell him we need to leave, ASAP,” Meg says.

Ryan adds, “Hurry. Let’s get the hell outta here.”

I rush down the steps, telling any cross-country kids I pass along the way, “The cops could show up any second.”

People start leaving in herds.

When I reach the bottom of the basement steps, I look around for Wyatt.

Finally, I spot him, over in a corner, talking to Colleen Foley.

Her hand’s on his bicep and she keeps rubbing it and smiling up at him. My mouth drops open and I close it quickly. Just then Wyatt looks over at me and even from across the crowded room, I can see the thunderheads rolling into his eyes.

He turns back and smiles at Colleen, bends down and says something into her ear. She kisses him on the cheek and they hug. When they finally let go of each other, he starts shoving his way through the crowd, toward me. I run up the stairs, hoping to catch Meg and hop into her car so we can speed away from here and I never have to see him again.

Colleen Foley! How could he? What’s wrong with him? I confided in him. I told him everything about my ghost! I trusted him! I painted his name on my t-shirt! He’s just like Matt Riley, only worse!

I spot Ryan and Meg standing at the kitchen door and head toward them as fast as I can. But before I reach them someone grabs my arm and yanks me to a full stop.

Matt Riley. In one hand he’s gripping a red plastic party cup and in the other, he’s gripping my arm. Fumes of vodka and Axe are wafting off of him and up my nose, so I try not to breathe in too deep.

“Hey, Annabelle, you look really pissed-off.”

“Cuz I am.”

“About what?”

“Guys like you.”

“Hey, lighten up. Let’s party. C’mon I’ll get you a drink.”

“Matt, I really have to go. My friends are waiting for me. Maybe I’ll see you around.” I try to pull my arm away, but he holds on tight. He’s so drunk, he’s wobbly but his grip’s still strong, almost as strong as his breath.

“Stay, have a drink with me.”

“Can’t. Gotta get home. I don’t wanna get caught and kicked off the team. I’m having a good season.”

“Partying’s way more fun than running, c’mon. It seems like forever since we hung out.”

“Thanks, but I really have to go.”

Maintaining his death grip on my arm, he pulls me closer so he can say something into my ear, but he never gets to speak the first word. Out of the darkness behind him a massive hand appears. As it comes down forcefully on Matt’s shoulder, he lets go of my arm and spins around. His plastic cup tips and liquid sloshes over the side. Wyatt’s face looms above Matt’s.

“Read the shirt.”

“What?”

“Can you read? Read her shirt.”

Matt looks at my shirt and weakly pronounces the word printed across my chest. “Silver.”

“Nice job, Matt. Now what do you suppose that means?”

“Sorry, dude, I didn’t know she was with you.”

“Well she is. Annabelle’s my number one fan, so hands off.”

Raising both his hands in a gesture of surrender, Matt stumbles backwards. “Okay, okay. I get it.”

Because Matt’s pretty drunk and he’s walking backwards, he trips over someone’s foot, bumps into another partier and almost goes down.

I turn to my self-appointed rescuer. “I could’ve handled that myself you know, Batman.”

“Yeah, but we’re in a hurry, so I expedited the situation.”

“‘Read the shirt.’ Nice one.”

“I think so...I like that shirt. Now let’s go. I already told your friends you’re coming with me.”

“Not a chance.”

Wyatt lowers his face until his lips bump against my ear. “Listen carefully, Annabelle, because I’m going to give you a choice.”

I can’t see his mouth because it’s smooshed up against my ear, but he sounds like he’s speaking through gritted teeth.

“You can take my hand peacefully and follow me out of this party right now. Or I’ll sling you over my shoulder and haul you out of here. I’ll announce to everyone that you’re too drunk to walk and I’m giving you a sober ride home.”

“That’s a hell of a choice.” I back away from him and stare bravely up into his gunmetal gray eyes. He wraps one of his huge hands around my right arm, ducks his shoulder and aims it toward my waist. I make up my mind.

“Okay, okay. I get it. You can stop going all Neanderthal on me.”

Seething hotter than the inside of a parked car in July, I wriggle my arm out of his grip and place my hand in his. He straightens up to his full height, turns around and tows me through the crowd. When we finally reach the door, Wyatt yanks me out into the night.

I wrench my hand out of his and push him away. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He takes one step toward me. “Why not, Annabelle? I thought we were friends.”

He pronounces the word “friends” like it tastes bad in his mouth and he needs to spit it out.

“Well, we’re not. We’re business associates. We’re conducting a paranormal investigation together. After it’s over, our association is, too.” I stand my ground and face off with him from about six inches away.

Wyatt’s complexion darkens to the shade of an over-ripe pomegranate. The whites of his full-blown eyes stand out in startling contrast to his slate irises and reddening flesh. His hands are clenched into pale-knuckled fists. If he were thirty years older I’d worry that he was having a heart attack. Aiming a thunderous stare at me, he grits his teeth so hard that his right cheek starts to twitch.

Finally he sucks in a deep breath and blows it out slowly. His face cools to a healthier color. He widens the space between his clenched teeth just enough to speak.

“You told Colleen Foley that we’re friends and that you’re only nice to me because my uncle and your mom know each other.”

“They do know each other.”

“And that’s why we’re always together? Because your mother makes you act like you’re my friend?”

“All right, so that’s not entirely true. We really are friends and it’s not just because my mom knows Oliver and it’s not only because of the ghost any more. We’re really friends, but just friends. Now can I go find Ryan and Meg before they head home without me? Then you can hook up with Colleen and give her a ride home.”

He grabs my wrist. “No, Annabelle. You’re not getting off that easy. You’re gonna talk to me and we’re gonna straighten this out now. First of all, we’re a hell of a lot more than friends, whether or not you admit it.”

“Bullshit.”

He ignores me and keeps going. “Second of all. Colleen’s been coming on to me since the first day of school. But I don’t want to hang out with her. And I have no plans what-so-ever to hook up with her. The only reason she’s left me alone lately is because she thought you and I were together. Now that she thinks we’re…” He drops my hand, shoves his face down close to mine again and air-quotes “‘just friends,’ she’s never going to leave me alone. Colleen was all over me tonight thanks to you!”

“You loved having her all over you! You kissed her!”

“She kissed me! On the cheek, Annabelle! I was being polite and trying to get away from her.”

“Bullshit!”

Wyatt’s jaw drops open and he guffaws. Then he shuts his mouth and puts his hand over it. When he uncovers his mouth, an obnoxious smile creeps across his face. I liked him better when he was gritting his teeth and turning red.

“Damn it, Annabelle! You’re jealous!”

“Why would I be jealous? On a good day, we’re…” I shove my face up close to his and air-quote “’just friends.’” I’m not jealous! You’re free to make out with Colleen anytime. I’m leaving right now with Meg. So get the hell out of my way!”

But Wyatt doesn’t step out of the way. He grabs me by the shoulders and sneers into my face. “D’you know why everyone thinks we’re together? Because we’re always together! We do everything together!”

“We do not!” Even to myself I sound like a whiny, mad little kid in a playground fight.

“Yes, we do! We do everything together except this…” His hands loosen so they’re cupping my shoulders gently, as he stoops down and presses his mouth against mine.

Wyatt’s lips feel remarkably soft considering that they were clamped together in barely controlled rage less than a minute ago. He tastes deliciously warm and sweet. I’ve never been this close to him before. His skin smells like clover and mint growing in a sunlit meadow. Gently, he grips my waist and pulls me closer.

My arms reach up and around his neck even though I didn’t tell them to. Our lips stay connected as he hugs me against him and lifts my feet off the ground. Moving backwards, Wyatt slowly staggers over to one of the Allen’s lawn chairs, sits down and gathers me onto his lap. I sink into the incredible melting heat of him, better than the first warm spring sun on your face, better than a bubbling Jacuzzi. Body and soul, Wyatt Silver surrounds me. And I can’t think anymore. I can only feel.

He’s worse. A quiet sound, like a sigh, rolls around deep inside of his throat for a few seconds. Shifting sideways, he nudges me off his lap and we stretch out together, on the lounge chair. I strive to move all of me closer to him, like everything green grows toward the sun.

Gradually, his mouth breaks free from mine for the first time since this madness began and he kisses my cheek, my earlobe and my neck before going back to my lips. The smell and feel and taste of him tumble over and around me, like clothes inside a hot dryer.

Finally, I realize that the night dew from the Allen’s lawn has soaked through my pants. At some point we must’ve rolled off the chair onto the grass. Wyatt’s sprawled beside me, still holding me and kissing me. It’s a miracle I didn’t break a tooth. Gently, I disconnect my mouth from his and he finds his voice, but it’s hoarse.

“Friends my ass, Annabelle.”

And I smile. My ass is resting solidly on the damp ground but my heart shoots up into the night sky and soars over the moon. We kiss again—but only for a minute because we have to escape before the cops arrive.