Page 37

I smiled. This was my Jenn. “You’re not dying. You’re just drunk.”

“I feel awful.” She turned to look at me. Damp strands of hair stuck to her forehead. So much for the added volume. “Do you hate me?”

“Of course not.” I picked up the hand towel from next to the sink, then soaked it in cold water. “Why would I?”

“Because I brought up Peyton. And made you drink.”

“You didn’t make me do anything.” I handed her the towel. “Put this on your face. It’ll help.”

She did, and I slid down to sit against the door, my knees to my chest.

“You don’t like Margaret,” she said finally. It wasn’t a question.

“I don’t know her,” I replied, sidestepping it anyway.

“She’s really nice, Syd, I swear! And so funny! And, you know, not from here. She doesn’t see me the way everyone else does. She thinks I could date Chris McMichaels. And drink piña coladas. And . . . be different. You know?”

I nodded. I did understand, in my own way. Not the boy or drinking part, but the clean slate that came with a new friend. “I miss you,” I said, feeling bad about even thinking this while I was with her.

“I miss you, too.” She looked at me again. “Will you stay tonight? I know you weren’t planning to.”

“Sure,” I said. “Let me just make sure it’s okay.”

My mom answered on the second ring, and she sounded upset. At first, I thought this might be because I was calling so close to curfew and she assumed I was angling for an extension. But I found out soon enough that, once again, it had nothing to do with me.

“You may as well,” she said, once I asked if I could stay. “Since we’re not going to Lincoln tomorrow.”

I blinked, surprised. “We’re not?”

Silence. Then, “Your brother apparently has had his visiting privileges rescinded. Of course, I can’t find out why, despite multiple efforts to contact the director of the prison.”

She said this like prison was high school and contacting the office could fix anything. Not for the first time, I wondered if my mother really understood where Peyton was.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” I said. “I know you were looking forward to that.”

“I was.” She sounded so defeated. I hadn’t thought anything could be worse than her being sad. This whole experience: it just kept teaching. After a moment, she rallied, saying, “Tell Jenn happy birthday, and I’ll see you in the morning. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Back in the bathroom, Jenn was looking slightly better, with a little color creeping into her cheeks. She still wasn’t ready to be too far from the toilet, however, so I went to fill Margaret in on what was going on. I was almost to the kitchen when I heard voices and realized the guys had arrived. They were gathered around the island, and Margaret, as she poured them drinks. She’d taken off her shoes and added bright red lipstick since I’d seen her last. When she saw me, she smiled like we were best friends.

“Sydney,” she called out, and the guys all looked at me. I knew them, of course, as we’d all been in school together since kindergarten. Besides Chris McMichaels, who had a sister in Peyton’s grade, there was Charlie Jernigan, who also lived in the Arbors, and Huck Webster, captain of the Perkins Day soccer team. “How’s the birthday girl?”

“Fine,” I answered, walking up to them. Chris was already drinking from his glass, while Charlie and Huck were still sniffing theirs. “She’ll be out in a sec.”

“I poured you a fresh one.” Margaret held out a glass to me. “You’ve got some catching up to do.”

I took the drink without comment, then had a sip. In truth, it smelled too much like the bathroom I’d just left, but I wasn’t going to give her anything to comment on. “Thanks.”

“How’s the new school, Sydney?” Charlie asked me. “You liking it?”

I nodded. “It’s good. Different.”

“I hear you switched to Jackson High,” Margaret said. “Why?”

“I was ready for a change,” I replied.

“That’s more a revolution than a change.” She adjusted her dress. “I hear there are fights there every day. And that’s with the girls. My friend who used to go there? She wouldn’t even go in the bathroom.”

“Not true,” I told her.

“Anyway, Sydney’s tough,” Chris said, smiling at me. “No one’s gonna mess with her.”

“Exactly,” I said. “They’re all scared of me already.”

The guys laughed. Margaret twisted a ring around her finger, then sighed. “I’m bored,” she said. “Let’s play a drinking game. Who’s got a quarter?”

With this, she led them over to the kitchen table, bringing the pitcher with her. I went back to check on Jenn, only to find her asleep on the bathroom floor. So much for the birthday girl.

“Hey,” I said, kneeling down beside her and shaking her arm. “Jenn. Wake up.”

“It’s not time to get up yet,” she mumbled, rolling over and pressing her cheek into the tiles.

There was a sharp knock at the door. Instinctively, I knew it was one of the boys. They even announced themselves differently. “Just a minute,” I called out.

“Uh . . . okay.” Then footsteps retreating. From the kitchen, I could hear Margaret laughing.