The Summer of '98 Page 5

  Getting Ellie into the car was like a game of Tetris. First, she slid right off the seat and into the gutter, and then her leg ended up over the center console, and then her laughter was so hysterical that she couldn’t keep her body from going limp and she was no help at all. I exhaled and shut the door when she was finally seated and buckled. There was no way that I could take her home in this condition. Not if Mom and Dad were awake. It was midnight, but there was a good chance that they would be waiting up. We had an hour to get her as sober as possible and the only idea I had for that was food.

  “Ellie,” I gave her a gentle shove when we arrived at Rocky Ryan’s diner. The owner kept it open late on weekends because of how much business the students brought through during the late nights. Ellie had her forehead on the car window, eyes closed, shoulders slouched. I gave her another shake and she snorted awake, blinking. “You want something to eat?”

  Her eyes were narrow, glaring at the storefront that was illuminated with neon signage and flashing string lights.

  She smacked her lips and stretched, “A burger sounds dope. Damn, did we fly here?”

  I laughed and opened the car door. “Yeah. We did.”

  She met me on the other side and straightened her dress, combed her fingers through her hair, and bumped into my wing mirror while she watched her feet moving forward. “Shit, my bad.”

  She was amusing the hell out of me—her demeanor was so different from its usual timidness. We held hands and I opened the door so that she could head in first. The diner wasn’t packed but there were a few different groups of people spread out, in the booths, ordering. Anna, Murray, and Kevin, who had been at the party tonight, were at a table near the counter.

  “What’s doin’ bro?” Kevin hollered and leaned over the table so that we could slap hands while I stood in line with Ellie tucked into my side. Her arms were wound tight around my waist, head on my chest. Kevin gestured at her. “She straight?”

  “She’s just a little drunk,” I said, not loving the way that Murray was staring at her bare legs. Anna leaned back in her seat, her long pink hair falling behind her. She gave my girl a slow once-over and I didn’t like it one bit. Anna was notorious for her bitchy attitude to everyone—not just people she didn’t like, but people she did. Just a classic mean girl. She and Noah had dated for about six months in his sophomore year, but one day I noticed that I hadn’t seen her in a while and my brother said they’d broken up. He wouldn’t tell me what had gone wrong, just that it was over. It surprised me at the time; from what I could tell, he really cared about her. But then again, she was not a nice person to be around.

  “Hey, chick,” she said, and Ellie raised her head a little.

  “Hey, I love your hair!” Ellie straightened right up with excitement and stepped away from me, stumbling a little. “It’s so pretty!”

  Anna ran her fingers through it and wore a smug look. “Thanks,” her lips pursed. “I like your . . . T-shirt. Walmart, right?”

  Ellie flinched, but she still smiled.

  I bit the inside of my cheek with frustration and slipped a hand into my pocket. “Hey, Anna, how’s summer school going?”

  Her mouth fell open, Kevin and Murray sniggered, and that was all the attention that we gave her. The line moved forward, and it was our turn to order. We got a burger and drink each and sat in a booth at the front of the diner, out of sight so that we could eat in peace. Ellie seemed a bit more put together by the time she was done. She was still drunk, but not to the point that she couldn’t keep herself upright. We went back out to the car at quarter to one and I drove home to Ellie singing “Ray of Light” by Madonna, which was on the radio at full volume. It amazed me how she seemed to know the words to every single song that she heard. No matter how old or new it was, how popular or fast or slow, she knew every lyric.

  I parked the car in the drive, and as feared, the living room lights were still on. “Shit,” I said and looked at Ellie, who was blinking so slowly that I thought she was about to fall asleep right where she sat.

  “Els?”

  She swiveled toward me so fast that her forehead almost collided with mine. I gripped her shoulders and looked into her unfocused, wandering eyes.

  “Listen, when we go inside, head straight upstairs. You follow? Straight upstairs. The last thing we need is Mom calling your mom and telling her that you got smashed.”

  “M’kay!” She nodded so forcefully that all I could do was hope like hell that Mom didn’t want to talk to her tonight. I probably shouldn’t have let this happen.

  When we got out of the car, I held her hand, led her up the footpath, and shoved her inside as fast as I could. “Upstairs,” I whispered. “Go.”

  Her eyes grew wide and she nodded, spinning around and taking off with so much speed that she put her foot, with force, straight into the leg of the hall table and knocked the vase off. It shattered on the tile, ear piercingly loud. My blood ran cold at the sight of shattered vase fragments and a frozen Ellie. Her stumbling feet crunched pieces of ceramic and each little noise was the knife digging in deeper.

  “What on earth is going on in here?!” Mom appeared from the living room in her robe and slippers, her hair rollers creating an evening crown on her head. Her curious stare darted between the floor, Ellie, me, and the floor again. “Is she drunk?”

  “Nope,” I grabbed Ellie and pulled her in tight beside me, giving her a light pinch in the side in the hopes that she would get the hint and put on the best damn performance of her life. “It was just an accident. A normal, sober accident.”

  Mom tilted her head, eyes narrow, lips pursed.

  The tension while she waited for me to cave was unbearable. The last time I had been challenged this hard was when Noah and I dabbled in pot last summer, ate the entire Fourth of July food preparations, and refused to confess. Mom knew, but she didn’t know, and we stood solid. Sort of like now, how it was obvious that Ellie was rolled, but I was hoping that she’d mistake it for tiredness and let us be.

  “I was drugged!” Ellie suddenly shouted, the quiet snapping like a rubber band. I groaned. “I mean—what?”

  “Leroy Lahey,” Mom seethed.

  “It’s not his fault, Mrs. Lahey,” Ellie slurred, and I knew we were screwed. “I’m a lightweight, I didn’t realize how much I could handle. I only had two!”

  “You’re holding up four fingers, Ellie,” my mom said.

  “Oh.”

  Mom closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, and pointed at the staircase. “Upstairs. Water, bed. Both of you.”

  Ellie stepped forward. “I’m so sorr—”

  Her sentence was interrupted by an abrupt stream of projectile vomit that coated Mom’s slippers, the bottom of her robe, and the floor. My jaw dropped, Mom’s jaw dropped, and Ellie slapped a hand over her mouth, bursting into tears.

  “Fuck me,” I mumbled so quietly that no one heard.

  “Upstairs,” Mom ordered. There was no hesitation on my part. Ellie didn’t protest either when I grabbed her arm and dragged her up the staircase. As soon as we were out of earshot, I laughed—quietly, because if Mom heard me, I might as well ground myself.

  “Stop laughing,” Ellie blubbered, tears streaming down her face. “What have I done? I’m horrible, Leroy, I’m horrible. I threw up on your mom. What the heck?”

  I almost doubled over with another burst of laughter as I led her into the bathroom and closed the door behind us. She clearly wasn’t coping with the fact that she’d just humiliated herself, but she’d thrown up on my mom and that was not something that I was likely to see again in this lifetime. The situation was a mess, but I had to laugh—it was also hilarious.

  She sat on the edge of the tub and sobbed while I wet a facecloth to clean her face. It was a team effort: she pulled her hair into a bun, I wiped her neck, and the mood was quiet while she brushed her teeth, elbows on
the counter because she couldn’t stand upright. In her bedroom, she had laid out her little sleep set. Keeping herself organized was one of those little things that I loved so much about Ellie: everything in its place, and a place for everything. Somehow, it made how drunk she was even more amusing. There was nothing organized about someone who couldn’t dress themselves.

  Kneeling in front of her, I pulled her dress over her head. It wasn’t until I pulled up the T-shirt underneath that I noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra. I inhaled and watched her face while I finished and carefully set her dress aside, never letting my eyes lower, her throat rolled, and her swollen lids fluttered slowly while she let her gaze move over my face. There was no chance that I was going to perv on her at a time like this, so I tugged her sleep shirt and shorts on and kissed her nose.

  “Leroy!” Mom’s voice came from downstairs and Ellie watched the door, lips parted in concern. “Come here, please.”

  “Lie down,” I told Ellie. She did and I pulled the sheets up and over her. “I’ll be right back.”

  Downstairs, Mom was standing in the living room in a new robe, no slippers, though. It was too hot for slippers anyway—what was she thinking?

  She said nothing, just stared, nostrils flared, arms folded. I couldn’t even look at her.

  “Explain to me,” her voice broke the silence. “How did this happen? There were only a few rules, Leroy. Curfew, no sharing a bed, no sex, no drinking. She’s been here for about twelve hours. Did I mistake your character judgment?”

  I groaned and ran a hand across my face. “No, Mom, no. It’s not like that.”

  “There are different rules for you. I allow you more freedom because you’re an adult as far as I’m concerned, and you can make your own choices. But a mother has trusted me with her daughter, and I asked you to respect that.”

  It was unfair to put her in a position where she had to go against Ellie’s mom. “I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. She didn’t mean to end up like that. She got carried away. She’s straight edged, Mom, I swear. She doesn’t usually drink but I think it was just a new setting and it went too far. She’s a good person. I swear.”

  It was quiet for a while again.

  “Where’s Noah?” she asked.

  “At Eric’s.”

  “With Cass?”

  I nodded and there was definite disappointment in her expression. As much as she loved her son, she knew that the situation between Cass and Noah wasn’t the healthiest thing for either of them, but less so for Cass. My mom really liked her. My dad too.

  “I’m going to sleep with Els tonight,” I told her.

  “I do not think so!”

  “Mom, come on. She’s wrecked. She needs to be watched so that she doesn’t choke on her own vomit.”

  “I told her mom tha—”

  “You wanna tell her mom that she died in her sleep?” I challenged, a low blow perhaps but it worked because Mom pinched the bridge of her nose.

  “Fine. But don’t—”

  “She’s trashed, Mom. I’m not going to have sex with her. Have a little more faith in me.”

  Her smile was tired, but it was there, and I thought that the conversation was done, until she pointed at the corridor. “Clean that vomit up. Now.”

  “Aw, man.”

  It was just after two in the morning when I slid in behind Ellie and wrapped an arm around her waist so that I was spooning her. There was no better feeling, nothing quite like having her little frame mold so well to mine, tucked in and safe. Her head was under my chin and I kissed the top of it, knowing that I loved every second of tonight. I loved watching her have fun, dance, even drink. I loved introducing her to my friends, calling her mine, having her wear that title with the proudest smile. The way she sought me out throughout the night, waving at me from across the party. Even looking after her made me smile. All I could do was hope that I got to be the one that was helping her into her PJs after a big night out for a damn long time.

  Ellie

  Cottonmouth was real, and this was the worst case of it that I’d ever had. The sun poured in from the bedroom window, heating the room to the point of discomfort, worsening the pounding in my head before I’d even opened my eyes or moved. If there was a way that I could skip this entire day, I would, because it was going to be the worst headache I’d had to date.

  A light tickle at the back of my neck startled me into a more alert state and I leaned up on an elbow, peering over my shoulder to find Leroy curled up behind me. I didn’t even realize that he had an arm draped across my waist, but my eyes slowly traveled over our tangled state as I smacked my lips together, attempting to moisten my mouth. Worst case of the pasties, ever.

  As delirious as I felt, I appreciated how handsome he looked behind me. He still wore his T-shirt and jeans, which I assumed was for my benefit. He was a true gentleman, with nothing but respect for me. His hair was a mess and his lips sat parted while he breathed shallow and low. My head thudded even harder, and without warning, the room began to spin, causing me to drop, seeking comfort in the mattress. I must have wobbled as I went down, because my head collided with the side table drawer.

  “Darn!” I yelped, grabbing the side of my head as Leroy startled awake behind me. I mumbled an apology about my language, rolling into the pillow and whimpering in pain.

  He was fast, because in a split second he had leaped over me and sat on the floor beside the bed, his hands holding my face. As if the headache I’d had before wasn’t bad enough. Now it felt like I was going to have to just finish off the job and knock myself out entirely.

  “Ellie? You hit your head?”

  “You didn’t hear that?” I groaned. “I think the neighbors heard it.”

  “You’re bleeding a little,” he wrapped a hand around me and helped me sit up. The entire time I kept my face buried in my hands. Maybe it would help with the pain and the unbearable shame at what a tragic mess I’d become.

  “Wait here a second.”

  I leaned against the headboard and breathed through the immense pain that made me feel nauseated. Leroy returned a moment later and I peeked through my fingers to find him holding a first aid kit.

  “Can you move your hands for me for a moment?”

  I did as he asked and pushed back my hair in an attempt to smooth it out a little before my hands dropped into my lap. My thumbs twiddled with embarrassment as he sat a little closer and dabbed at the warm blood on my face. He was so gentle, wiping it off with a wet wipe before he put a Band-aid on my temple.

  “Here,” he handed me a fresh wipe. “For your hands.”

  I noticed the little bit of blood that coated the tips of my fingers. “Thanks.”

  He leaned over to the side table drawer where a glass of water and an aspirin were waiting. As I reached for it, memories came flooding in and I squealed with shame, slapping a hand to the already sore forehead.

  “I threw up on your mother’s feet,” I whispered, my cheeks suddenly as hot as the sun. All I wanted to do was cease to exist. “I-I . . . what . . . oh my G—”

  “Els,” he pressed a finger to my lips, silencing the blubbering with a small smile. “It’s okay. It was just her slippers. She’s got a dozen pairs. And she hated that vase. She kept it there out of respect for Dad; it was a present from him. She’ll probably thank you.”

  “I had forgotten about the vase.” I lifted the sheets up to hide my face. “She’s going to send me home, right? Tell my mom?”

  “No, she—”

  “I won’t.”

  Leroy turned around and I peered past him to find his mother standing at the room’s threshold. She was dressed in a beautiful coral long-sleeved dress that had a thick belt around its middle. Her feet were bare, but she wore a large sun hat and held a clutch in her hand.

  “You can relax, sweetheart,” she walked farther into the room. “I’ve ha
d to deal with Noah and Leroy on a few occasions when they’ve had too much to drink. But I did assure your mother that you would be safe here.”

  “I know. I’m so sorry—”

  She held up a finger to signal that she wasn’t finished, and I gave her an apologetic glance so that she could continue.

  “This can be kept between us. But. There will be no more drinking. Curfew will not be extended, and if this happens again, I will have to phone your mother and make arrangements for you to be sent home.”

  I nodded so fast and instantly regretted the enthusiasm as my head pounded. “I swear that it won’t happen again.”

  After the night I’d had, I would gladly never consume a drop of alcohol ever again. I felt terrible, I was sure that I looked terrible, and I’d made a total fool of myself.

  “Your father and I are going to church,” Eleanor said as she headed back toward the door. “I’ll bring lunch home.”

  She left, leaving the door open. Leroy turned back around to face me and smiled. “That could have been worse. Right?”

  “So much worse. Your mom is a godsend.”

  “She’s not bad.”

  Leroy stretched his hands above his head and yawned. His arms flexed and, phew, I might have been lacking brain function at that moment, but I still seemed to be capable of thinking very vivid thoughts.

  “I could use a shower,” I murmured, still salivating over his toned, taut arms and shoulders.

  “Of course. There are a couple of towels in there waiting for you,” he stood up and offered me a hand.

  “Do you think I’m a mess?” I asked with a small voice as he pulled me up. Being on my feet was harder than I thought it would be, and Leroy kept me upright with his arm around my waist.

  “No. I don’t think that,” he laughed as we went to the bathroom. “You were having fun. Nothing wrong with that.”