The Opposite Of Invisible Part 14

We drink and talk some more.

Simon stands up and takes my hand, leads me back to the kitchen. While he's mixing vodka with lemon-lime soda, Mike stumbles in and opens the fridge. "I gotta find some pepperoni!"

"Only Corrigan decides to make pizza during a party where everyone is drinking but no one is eating," says Simon, stirring his concoction. "I gotta pee."

"Get in line!" Mike shouts.

By the time Simon's back from the bathroom, I'm alone in the kitchen and I've finished his green drink. It tasted like melted Popsicle.

I've gone beyond half-drunk. For the first time in my life. My head feels light. I close my eyes and try to get back into myself. I try to drown out the voices, the pumping music, the sway of the crowd.

Simon grabs me by the waist.

It feels too good.

Then I feel like I might vomit.

Simon burps in my ear. I turn around. His eyes are watery. "I'm pretty gone."

"I can see that." We're both drunk. It's a couple of miles from Corrigan's house to mine. I could walk. "You can't drive me home."

Corrigan comes back to the kitchen, takes his pizza out of the oven, and grabs Simon by the elbow. "Shooting pool," he says. "You versus me."

Simon follows him.

He actually leaves me standing there.

I take deep breaths. I could stay; hang with Mandy. But the world is spinning. Simon's not with me. I feel like I'm falling.

I slip out the garage door and start walking. Carefully.

Chapter Fifteen.

Sat.u.r.day I hear the chimes above the front door when my parents leave for a brunch date with Dad's old colleagues. I stay in bed until one.

They know. When I got home last night they were waiting in the kitchen. I was as quick as possible about saying good night but I'm sure they could tell that I wasn't my sober self.

I've never disappointed them like this before. Or myself.

I sit up in bed and look at my Dove Girl.

It's almost like she's sending me a message, instead of our usual thing, which is all about me asking her for help.

I get out of bed and grab my sketchbook from the floor. I sit on the bed. Close my eyes.

Her face is calmness. She's only a few lines and circles. She's barely even there. Nothing weighs her down. She's light. She can fly.

Pencil to paper, I open my eyes and start with the bird, her wings. The angles of the feathers are so simple, but I've never been able to do them exactly before. Just breathe Just breathe, I tell myself. Pencil up and pencil down. Just shapes.

Then I get to the eyes-curved lines with three-quarter circles underneath. The nose, long with only a slight bend. The lips, a straight line surrounded by a heart.

Pencil up, pencil down. Simple.

I've done it. I've copied her.

And I think she's starting to rub off on me.

I need to find my own peace.

Talking to a poster is so not enough.

I need to concentrate on friends who talk back.

The rest of Sat.u.r.day is filled with cable television and a Nancy Drew book that I found under my bed. Mysteries solved in the span of about two hours. I wish.

Then I lounge on the couch watching guys who remind me of Simon's friends try to win a date by bench-pressing the girl, who wears a bikini and doesn't have tan lines.

The phone rings as contestant number three lifts the girl. Maybe it's Jewel calling to ... what? Apologize for leaving me to the wolves?

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Hey." Not Jewel. But I feel a flutter in my middle.

"Hi."

"You said that already." Simon sounds nervous.

"Did I?"

"So, I'm just calling to say I had a good time at the party."

I did too. But I have a hangover.

And what about the way the night ended? That was so not not fun. Are we going to talk about it? About Simon's being too wasted to take me home? My face feels hot. fun. Are we going to talk about it? About Simon's being too wasted to take me home? My face feels hot.

"Yeah," I say.

"You left early."

"You remember?" I am harsher than I want to be.

"Of course," he says. "I looked all over for you."

How can I explain the way I felt at that party without him? "Yeah."

Maybe he'll invite me out and we can talk somewhere. I think there's a good band at the s...o...b..x tonight. I could invite him.

"Hey," I say. "Let's get a Stranger Stranger from the newsstand and check out the shows tonight." from the newsstand and check out the shows tonight."

He breathes. Then I hear Corrigan in the background. He's saying something like "Tell your woman you've gotta go!"

Simon coughs. "Actually, I gotta go."

"Oh."

"I'm at Corrigan's still. Crashed here. We're going for burritos."

I picture them, surrounded by empty bottles and who knows what else. "Sounds good."

"Talk to you later."

Somehow that sounds even less promising than "See ya." "See ya."

Most people would be getting grounded right about now.

Maybe a break from Simon would be the right thing.

At dinner, my parents bring it up. Dad looks at me over his pasta and says, "We need to talk about last night."

"I know," I say. I might cry if I say more, and I really don't want to do that right now.

"No more drinking," Mom says. "None!"

"I know. I didn't like it. It felt awful."

"Remember that feeling," Dad says. "Getting drunk is not all right."

It was horrible being drunk, and seeing Simon drunk. It made me feel ... more alone than ever. Even at a party, I felt ... invisible, again.

"This is your freebie," Mom says. "Next time we won't be so easy on you."

"I'm done with it. I swear."

If only I could get Simon to make the same promise.

Simon calls after dinner on Sunday. "How was your weekend?"

He's being casual. "Fine. Yours?" I hope he can hear that I'm being short with him.

"After Corrigan's, I worked at the aquarium. Then today we had practice."

"Oh." I pause.

"Something wrong?"

Yes. I'm waiting for him to apologize for the party.

He left me alone. And then he chose burritos with a beefhead over hanging out with me. It didn't feel like ... what I want in a boyfriend.

I just blurt it out, "At the end of the party and then all the rest of the weekend, I didn't really feel like I was your girlfriend."

His voice sounds thinner. "What are you talking about?"

"You didn't take me home, or make sure I got there, and my parents ... then you didn't hang out with me on Sat.u.r.day or today. What's that about?" I'm trying not to boil.

"I was having fun. It was a party. And the rest of it? I guess ... I don't know. I ... feel like maybe I've been too into you."

I fiddle with the magnets on the refrigerator. "How so?"

He lets out a breath. "I just like being around you so much. I want you to be happy. I guess that's part of why I went with Corrigan at the party. I could tell you weren't really into the party anymore, and I didn't want you to get angry."

"I wasn't angry. It was more ... uncomfortable."

"I didn't know you felt so bad that you'd leave. I feel terrible about that. I'm going to do better. Okay?"

It's a dream come true.

So why don't I feel lucky?

Chapter Sixteen.

Monday morning, I reach the scone place and wonder if I have time to grab coffee. I look in the window and see a blue sweatshirt. That's what I notice first. Not Jewel. His hoodie.

Is Vanessa with him?

G.o.d. She lives in Ballard. Of course she's not with him before school.

He turns, sipping what I know is a vanilla latte.

He sees me.

We're caught.

There's still three-quarters of a mile to school and we're both headed that way.

He walks out of the shop and I say, "I liked your photos at the art show."