Slow Burn Part 21

Dean ignores me, letting my teasing roll off him like water off a duck's back. But Ben chuckles, elbowing him in the ribs.

"I always had a feeling about you two. The s.e.xual tension between y'all is ridiculous."

My eyes meet Dean's, and I burst out laughing. "Right. All that fighting and cold silences were just foreplay."

"Big time," Ben agrees with a sly look at Dean. "You do like living dangerously, Youngblood. s.h.i.t, man, you keep playing with someone else's toys, you're gonna get caught."

To my surprise, Dean smirks back at him. "I'm not gonna get caught."

I don't know what they're talking about, but I'm certain it doesn't have anything to do with me. Which is why I'm letting that 'someone else's toys' comment go. I wonder what secrets Ben knows about Dean, though.

I decide to change the subject before curiosity gets the better of me. "Ben, have you seen my friend, Heather?"

"You mean the drunk redhead glued to Sloane's a.s.s? Can't exactly miss her when she's going around telling everyone she's the president of the Itty Bitty t.i.tty Club."

"Oh noooo," I groan. "I have to go."

Trying to run while putting my sandals on, I hop awkwardly away. d.a.m.n it, Heather! I warned her, and she just-grrr!

I briefly entertain visions of dragging Heather away by her hair while she shrieks like a tea kettle. It would have been perfectly acceptable in caveman times, according to the movies. If only.

I find Heather in a circle of people near one of the bonfires. One of the girls is Arianna, and I'm annoyed to find them giggling together. Sloane stands on the other side of Heather, and she appears to be listening to whatever fascinating story the drunk redhead is recounting animatedly. Gosh, I wish I could rent her out at parties. I would make a fortune.

The group's mood sours as soon as I intrude, mostly due to Arianna's glare. What is that girl's problem? I pull Heather away to scold her about breaking her promise not to get drunk. She's irritated with me for interrupting her moment with Sloane, but I don't care. I resolve to shadow her every movement for the rest of the night.

It goes downhill quickly after that. I manage to catch the attention of one of the many drunk and h.o.r.n.y guys roaming the party like stray dogs. Not only does he grab my b.o.o.b and try to hump me from behind-he does this in front of Johnny, who at his most sober, is not known for his Zen-like control. He body slams the drunk pervert to the ground and proceeds to beat his face in.

Three guys I don't recognize try to pull Johnny off the guy, but it's not happening. Finally, Mack and Nick come to the rescue, wrestling the beaten guy out from under him. The drunk guy makes it only a few stumbling feet before he falls into the sand ,bawling loudly. No one seems to notice, and the party continues on. I try to help the guy out by getting him some ice and a towel-and while I'm cleaning him up, he tries to go for the b.o.o.b again! What the h.e.l.l?! I just can't.

By the time our group is willing to call it a night, Dean and I are the only sober ones left. Jason and Ryan decide to spend the night at Mark's along with several other kids, so it's Mack in the pa.s.senger seat, and Nick and Heather leaning against each other and snoring away in the middle. Johnny and I are alone in the back, and it doesn't take him long to find out I'm not wearing a bra. Even smashed out of his mind, he's still irresistible. Fortunately, the memory of him beating some guy to a b.l.o.o.d.y pulp is still fresh in my mind, and I have no problem yanking his hands out of my dress. Besides, I'm not down with exhibitionism, and I never understood how couples could just make out at parties in full view of everyone else. Aren't the girls afraid it would end up on the internet?

The drive back seems to last hours. When we finally arrive at my house, Heather refuses to get out of the car. She wraps her arms around the headrest and keeps shouting, "porque, porque!" I have to repeatedly pinch the fleshy underside of her upper arm to make her let go. Finally, Dean swings her into his arms like she's a little kid, and offers to carry her in the house. But I see the flickering light of the television through our big picture window, indicating my mother's home and awake. I decline his offer and tow Heather up the front walk by myself. If we fell into the bushes planted by the porch, I'll never tell.

Chapter 19.

I'm getting ready to go to Dad's when my phone rings. I stare at the screen in disbelief before answering.

"How do you still have your phone?" I demand by way of greeting. "How are you not chained to a post in the bas.e.m.e.nt?"

"I am awesome," Heather replies after a short pause and a strange hissing sound. "The only thing I'm in trouble for is puking on Barney Cat. I'm bathing him right now."

I fold my favorite blue hoodie and stick it in my bag. "Okay, how?" I'm not asking about the cat.

I can practically hear the shrug in her voice. "I told them someone spiked the punch at our pajama party. And since I've never had a drop of alcohol in my innocent life, how was I to know that the foul taste was the liquid devil?"

"What?! They bought it? I'm so rolling my eyes right now."

"I know. I can practically see it." Heather laughs her goofy good-natured laugh. "So, I think I blacked out a little last night, 'cause I really don't remember what happened after we left the party. Wanna fill in some of the blanks for me?"

I sigh, flopping back on my bed. "You pa.s.sed out in the car, snoring like a chainsaw all the way back to my place-where you refused to get out of the car. You kept saying 'el' instead of 'the' and it was really obnoxious. Mom was up when we got home, and she looked you over, and made you drink about a gallon of water before she drove you home. Wait, she didn't say anything to your parents?"

"She didn't even come in the house. Oh, my G.o.d," Heather mumbles, her voice unnaturally quiet. "Your mom drove me home? I kind of...I think I remember some of it. Was she wearing a blue sweater last night? I may have tried to lick her arm. I may have tried to hit on her."

"How did it go with Sloane?" I ask, deciding to change the subject. Anything to erase the image of Heather's tongue on my mother.

Menacing growls sound erupt from Heather's side. "Um...good, I think," she pants. It sounds like she's on the move. "I got her number. We talked a lot last night. She's really-Barney Cat, no!"

I wait patiently, unwrapping a piece of gum and popping it into my mouth as I listen to the splashes and screams coming through my phone's speaker. There's a huge thud, and then something that sounds like a whip being cracked. Heather suddenly lets loose a string of profanity so exotic, I know she must've borrowed them from her Uncle Josiah.

"I'll text you later, Heather!" I yell into the phone. "I gotta go to my dad's now!"

"Okay!" she yells back through the splashing. "Call me when you find out why Mich.e.l.le's being so weird!"

"I will! Talk to you later! Ow!"

Unearthly screams and crashing sounds have me quickly pulling the phone away from my ear. I stab the end call b.u.t.ton, and breathe a sigh of relief.

I was worried that Heather would be mad at me for turning her in, but it's not like she got in trouble, anyway, d.a.m.n it. I can't believe Mom didn't say anything to the Joneses. She didn't ask me what happened last night, just checked me to see if I had been drinking. When she was satisfied that I was completely sober, she left with Heather without a word. I even hung out in the living room, waiting for her to get back to see if she would blast me for being at a party where there was obviously drinking. But no, when she came back, she stuck her head in and asked me to turn off the television, then headed upstairs without another word. I thought for sure I'd be grounded until graduation. Maybe this is some kind of reverse psychology ploy?

She's still in bed when I'm ready to go, so I just stick my head in her room to tell her I'm leaving. I also let her know that there's a pot roast in the fridge. I get some kind of weird grunt in response. I fear the zombie apocalypse, because how will I know my mother's turned until she bites my nose off?

Luckily, Dad is a little more animated. We play a new board game he picked up-until he reads one of the cards piled on the board, and realizes the game is made for couples.

It's a s.e.x game. I'm gonna hurl.

"I'm sorry," Dad mutters, red-faced. "It-it said it would be fun for college-aged kids, so I thought...oh, G.o.d. Sorry."

"It's okay," I rea.s.sure him, picking up the box and examining the s.e.xy young couple entwined on the front. "Anyone could have made that mistake. I think I have to vomit. I'll be back."

"Okay, well, don't forget we're going to dinner with your aunt and uncle in forty-five minutes."

Oh, thank G.o.d. "Sure."

I can't wait to see Mich.e.l.le. I strip off my faded gray t-shirt in favor of a nicer sapphire blue one, then check to make sure the braids I'm sporting doesn't make my head look too big. Hm, not too bad, I guess. I grab my phone, and I'm ready to go.

We meet Mich.e.l.le and Uncle Derek at Shin.o.bu's, an expensive j.a.panese restaurant overlooking the water. Normally, I love j.a.panese food, but my stomach is too twisted in knots to eat much of anything. I'm certain they're going to announce their divorce. Derek avoids eye contact, and every time Mich.e.l.le opens her mouth, she looks like she wants to scream. Even Dad knows something's up. We exchange a couple of nervous glances before he pretends to be preoccupied with using his chopsticks to pick up the pickled ginger on his plate.

"Derek bought this shirt for me," Mich.e.l.le says into the awkward silence. Her perfectly plucked eyebrows are twitching madly, poor thing.

I smile gently at her. "That's great. Uh..."

She leans an elbow on the table and props her head against it. I can see her sneaking a glance at Derek. He returns her look, frustrated. G.o.d, I wish they would just spit it out, so I can tell them what a terrible mistake they're about to make. It's that stupid guy's fault-the one who sent her the lingerie. Did she have an affair with him? Ugh, she should have known- Mich.e.l.le suddenly slams a hand down on the table, rattling the dishes, and causing me to jump in my seat.

"Oh, for G.o.d's sake!" she exclaims. "You two-dingbats! Read my shirt!"

What? My eyes drop down to her chest.

Oh, my G.o.d! In gold glittering letters is one word: Baby. An arrow points down to her stomach.

"You're pregnant!" I shriek.

"She finally guesses, right before my head explodes!" Mich.e.l.le rolls her eyes, but she looks ridiculously pleased.

I don't care how many people are looking in our direction right now. I'm so happy for them! And so glad their news is, like, the opposite of what I thought. Wow...after so long. How amazing! I squeak with excitement. Even Dad's eyes are shiny with emotion as he wraps his baby sister in a huge hug.

"Remember that time when we eating at the Lotus Garden, and I got sick?" Mich.e.l.le is saying to me. "I'd been feeling nauseous on and off for a long time, but I never would have thought I was pregnant! My cycle's been so messed up lately, so I wasn't really keeping track of my periods."

"That's so great!" I give in to the urge to rub her still flat tummy. "How many weeks are you?"

"Almost eleven! And believe me, I wanted to tell you right away, but we wanted to wait until we went to the doctor to confirm it..."

"That's why you've been so weird on the phone!"

"Yeah, sorry." She laughs sheepishly, and exchanges a sweet look with her husband. "You know what a hard time I have keeping things a secret!"

"I completely forgive you," I say with a grin. "Have you guys discussed names yet?"

"Are you kidding?" Uncle Derek snorts. "The day after she took fifteen pregnancy tests, she went out and bought bags and bags full of baby clothes."

"In gender neutral colors, of course." She giggles.

Oh, my G.o.d! I'm so happy for them I have to blink back happy tears. They've waited for so long for this-and now they look more in love than ever. All the fighting and trust issues are things of the past. And I'm going to have a baby cousin! Man, I wish we lived closer to each other-I would babysit for them every day.

We're at the restaurant for over two hours, talking about the baby and eating way too much sushi. I can't seem to stop smiling, and Dad and I talk excitedly about the soon-to-be addition to the family on the drive home. Still pumped up from the news, he breaks out the playing cards, and we play Texas Hold Em for hours-something we haven't done in years. It's nice. Like old times.

The next day, I make a huge pot of chili, a pan of cornbread, and two apple pies to take to Mack's. Heather tags along, and she brings five big Ziploc bags of homemade tortilla chips-which turns out to be a good thing, because Johnny, Ben, and (ugh) Arianna all show up minutes after we get there. At first, Arianna acts like she's too good to eat my low-cla.s.s food, but she starts sneaking bites off Ben's plate, until he gets annoyed enough to give her the whole thing and make another one for himself. Arianna seems fascinated with my best friend, hanging on her every word. She even warms up to me-she barely scowls at me when I ask her if she wants a second trough of chili.

It's a really fun afternoon. Johnny behaves himself, spending most of the time throwing a football around with Nick. Every once in a while he'll look over at me and smile, and when Mack and Lala teach us girls some hula moves, he quietly watches. His azure eyes on me make me jumpy and nervous. I turn the wrong way and hit Heather in the neck with my hand. She pretends to gasp for air.

Okay, maybe she wasn't pretending.

Later, I'm sprawled on the gra.s.s under the shade of a tree, browsing through Lala's family photo alb.u.m that she insists I look at. d.a.m.n, she and Mack were gorgeous babies. She's in the middle of telling me a funny story about one of their family vacations, when a shout distracts her. It's Nick-he does a running jump into the pool, landing with a huge splash. He resurfaces, his brown hair plastered to his head, and laughing in that carefree way of his. Lala watches him with rapt attention, the way a cat would watch a mouse. I wonder if Mack knows his sister has a huge crush on one of his best friends. Probably not, since Nick is still around and breathing.

Lala suddenly snaps out of her trance-and without another word to me, jumps up and makes a beeline for the pool. Just like that, I'm abandoned for a s.e.xy laugh and hard body. I can't really blame her as I've done the same thing myself on more than one occasion.

Speaking of hard bodies...

Johnny eases down next to me, grunting slightly at the effort. Sometimes football players sound like old men with all their aches and pains. I consider asking him how his shoulder's doing, but I remember it was just fine when he beat that guy up the other night.

He nudges me with his arm. "You still mad?"

I shrug, keeping my gaze downwards. "More like exasperated. You nearly killed that guy."

"He had his hands all over you," Johnny says, anger creeping into his words. I'm not sure if it's directed at me, or at the pervert he beat up.

This time I look up. "I would have handled it, but you didn't give me the chance to. Besides, it's not your job to protect me. We're not together anymore, remember?"

A muscle in his jaw jumps as he clenches it. "So you keep reminding me." He looks away. "Just 'cause we broke up doesn't mean I don't still care about you."

I sigh wearily. I so don't want to have this fight again-why did I even bring it up? "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-never mind. I should start heading home. Dean's coming over pretty soon to work on our English project, so..."

"Teeny. I know he's not coming over until ten-I live with the guy, remember? If you don't want to be near me, just say so."

I flush, shifting my legs awkwardly. "No, it's not that. I just-I want to go home. I ate way too much, and I just feel, like-blah. I really want to take a nap! but I didn't want to sound...you know...elderly."

Johnny chuckles. It looks like he wants to pat me on the head, but he knows better. "Says the girl who likes to be in bed by nine-thirty on a school night."

"I know. I don't know why Dean wants to come over so late-I have to get up early tomorrow," I complain.

"He probably didn't think about it." He shrugs. "He never sleeps."

"Never?"

Johnny takes the photo alb.u.m from my lap, and opens it up. "Three or four hours a night, tops. I don't know-I never sat there and timed him. He's out almost every night, doing who the h.e.l.l knows what."

"Hm." I give a little laugh before I climb to my feet. "Maybe he's Batman."

"I can totally see that. Is this Mack-or his sister? d.a.m.n, look at the size of that 'fro! I wonder if he claimed air rights for it."

"I heard that!" Mack shouts from the pool. He glares ominously in our direction. "Put the photo alb.u.m down, Parker, and walk away."

Johnny and I exchange grins. He quickly puts the book down, but as I believe he mentioned before, he has fast hands. He casually slides the pilfered picture into the side pocket of his Cargo shorts.

"What are you going to do with that?" I murmur, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing good," he replies with a wicked gleam in his eye. "You leaving now?"

"Yeah, if I can pry Heather away from her new bff. She-what are you doing?"

Johnny continues to pat my a.s.s. "There was gra.s.s on the back of you shorts. Jesus, Juliet, get your mind out of the gutter. It wasn't like that."

But he says this with a smirk, so yeah-it was like that.

"Don't worry about her-I can give her a ride home, or Ben and Arianna will if she doesn't want to go with me," he offers, standing up.

I watch Johnny as he stretches his long lean body in a way that he d.a.m.n well knows makes me kind of drool. I'm already suspicious that he's letting me run away from him again...what's he up to?

A chorus of protests sound off when I announce I'm leaving. Well, there was a m.u.f.fled cheer, but since it came from the sea harpy, I'm ignoring it. Unsurprisingly, Heather is having too much fun to leave. She and Arianna are huddled together like plotting terrorists talking about strappy sandals. I'm totally okay with with my bestie being so snuggle bunny with the enemy. I don't know why I have the urge to bake two strawberry rhubarb pies topped with whipped cream, and smash them into both girls' faces. Must be about that time of the month.

Johnny walks me to my car, and I half expect him to invite himself over tonight. But he gives me a lingering kiss on the cheek, taps the roof of my car, and says he'll see me at school tomorrow.