Then again, not many people do. It helped that Jared and I broke up over the summer, and that we went to different schools so our crowds didn’t mix much. Kristen was the only person I talked to about it, and thus the only one on my end who knew what an epic mess it was. Around everyone else, I pretended it was mutual thing so they wouldn’t ask questions. And with Jared running away like he did, I can only guess he didn’t talk about it at all. That wouldn’t have been his style.
Which isn’t to say no one ever made the connection. When that’s happened, Kristen and I agreed that it would be better for her to do the denying. She’s—truthfully—pointed out that Jared and I broke up before I got the car, and she’s dropped hints that I helped Jared with the song and maybe came up with the line myself. That rumor even spread to a fan forum, but if Jared heard it, he never contradicted the tale. Given the time he’s spent denying his songs were about anyone in particular, he was probably happy to keep my name buried.
As for finding a guy this summer? Well, it’s not that I’d object to finding Mr. Hot-Summer-Fling tonight, but we have better odds of an asteroid hitting the party. The sad truth is, since I broke up with Jared, there hasn’t been much hot at all in my love life. It’s not that I no longer believe in love or anything so emo. It’s just that with Jared, everything worked between us so easily. I don’t expect to have to put effort into a relationship, and those kind of high expectations have been killing me. My longest post-Jared boyfriend lasted three weeks. Most lasted the length of a party hookup. That way they didn’t have time to disappoint.
Lisa drives us down winding roads, past cows at pasture, a river and giant mills. We turn off into the woods, and the evening suddenly becomes a lot darker. Six or seven cars are parked along the side of a road swathed in evergreens. Lisa squeezes as close to the nonexistent curb as she can and needles scrape the car.
“I hope I don’t get towed,” she mutters as we pile out.
“I hope we don’t get murdered.” Sure, there are cars, but I don’t hear music or see any people. “This looks like something from Deliverance.”
I can swat plenty of mosquitoes though, so there’s some life. Yay?
Lisa grins. “Welcome to New Hampshire.”
“Hold up, guys.” Hannah’s pulled a cigarette out of her purse and struggles to light it and walk at the same time. Since when does she smoke?
I’m definitely learning a lot about my family on this so-called vacation.
We follow Lisa, and a break in the trees turns out to be a driveway. Now the rest of the cars come into view, although I’m guessing most of them belong to the residents. The apartments themselves are an unimpressive row of two-story, conjoined buildings. The one on the far end has the door propped open, and Lady Gaga slips into the night.
“Lisa!” A guy in a grungy white baseball cap drapes an arm around her as soon as we step inside, and gives her a hug. “Beer’s in the cooler. So which of these is your sister?”
Lisa breaks free of his arm and takes a swig of his beer as she points. “Sister and cousins. Guys, this is Mike.”
I get a good look at Mike, and he looks at me, and for some reason I swear we recognize each other. But from where? Mike has one of those generic faces, and the Red Sox cap and UNH T-shirt are practically the male uniform around here. Yet my gut’s flashing me these “Danger, Will Robinson” signs and I don’t know why.
Mike snaps his fingers. “Oh yeah, Claire from the grocery store. I remember that orange hair.”
He knows my name? My confusion lasts a split second, then the reason for Mike’s knowledge dawns on me, and every muscle tenses. This is Jared’s friend. No wonder I barely recognize his face. I was horribly distracted when we met. But does that mean...? I frantically scan the room, afraid I’ll find Jared lurking.
But the coast is clear. I don’t recognize anyone else. My shoulders relax. “Yeah, I work there.”
“Cool.” He nods to himself. “Hey, you guys should come outside. We’ve got beer pong set up.”
I wander outside with the others and pass out beers. I don’t know if April’s ever drunk one before, and I probably shouldn’t be giving beer to my fifteen-year-old sister, but then I’m not her parent.
April takes the beer like a champ, only letting her thoughts on how vile it tastes pass over her face for a second. I snicker.
Lots of people crowd around outside; the party is larger than I assumed. I stand with my back against the building, scanning the area and feeling tired and unsociable. The sun sets, and soon Lisa’s disappeared, April’s gotten herself into the beer pong game, and Hannah’s dancing with a guy who bummed a smoke from her.
One beer down and I can tell I’m giving off a distinct “stay away” vibe, so I head inside. I remember seeing vodka and gin sitting out.
The kitchen barely contains enough room for two people, but I worm my way into the available space and pour some vodka into a plastic cup. As I slink back out, I brush against a new guy coming toward me. Catching a whiff of him, I freeze.
Struck by lightning twice. So it is possible, and I should have hightailed it out the door as soon as I realized who Mike is.
I feel Jared tense. My chest touches his, and it’s way closer than I ever hoped to be to him again. Although I struggle to keep my face neutral, my brain reels. How many times can you be struck by lightning without dying? The answer has got to be less than two. Although I thought I’d steeled myself to the possibility of running into him again around here, I feel my will to survive crumpling.
Why is that? Why do I feel like I can’t deal with his presence? All I should be feeling is anger, but its purity is diluted with this icky betrayal and humiliation.
If Jared’s surprised to see me, I can’t tell. He becomes a blur as I push through the crowd. I stumble into the hot living room, my heart racing, but it’s not far enough so I head outside. Mike’s communal backyard is small and the crowd around the beer pong table is thick. About thirty feet away, the grass descends into evergreen woods. Beyond the first few trees all is blackness.
I long to run there. To hide in the forest. My bones buzz with repressed anger, and I almost believe I have the energy to do it. Run blindly. Madly.
Instead, I down the last of my drink, and shadows shift on the grass by my feet. For a second, I fear Jared’s come over to rub my face in his presence, but it’s another guy.
“You’re Lisa’s cousin?” A few freckles decorate his nose, and he has nice, broad shoulders. A bit jockish for my taste, but I’m weird like that, or so my friends would have me believe. He leans against the wall next to me, close enough to give off that flirting vibe.
Also close enough that I can smell beer on his breath. But hey, I’ve got beer breath, too, so who am I to judge? Besides, he’s a guy who’s not Jared, and he’s paying attention to me. I’m not above seeing the possibilities here.
“Yeah. I’m Claire.”
“Zach.” He peers into my empty cup. “Need another?”
Oh yeah, I have a feeling I do. “Sure.”
The kitchen’s cleared out, and I let Zach make me another drink. He doesn’t skimp on the vodka, either. Usually alcohol makes me giggly, but I must be too confused for giggles tonight. My head swims a bit, that’s all.
“So how long are you guys staying here?” Zach asks.
Behind him, Jared sits on the sofa, surrounded on both sides by girls. One of them is Hannah. He glances my way and we both catch