A Midsummer's Nightmare

CHAPTER 18

When I felt the fingers brushing through my hair, my first instinct was to jerk away. My eyes snapped open, my hand swatting blindly. Theo’s perfect face and shiny teeth flashed in my mind. Only, now they looked much less attractive. The strong muscles in his jaw were menacing, and the glittery teeth were sharp and dangerous.

“No!” I gasped, rolling onto my side. But I wasn’t in the SUV anymore. Or lying in the driveway. It took me a second to realize that the ground beneath me was soft. There was even a pillow propping my head up.

“Shh… Whitley, it’s okay.”

My eyes found Harrison’s, and a sigh of relief exploded from my lips.

“Thank you,” I murmured, trying to sit up. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He put a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to lie back down. “Don’t get up yet, okay? Nathan is on his way.”

“What?”

“I called him.”

“Forget those thank-yous.”

I didn’t want Nathan to see me like this. I didn’t want him to know how badly I’d screwed up this time, how right he’d been about me. That I was a drunk and a whore. This was my fault, just like what had happened to Bailey was my fault. I didn’t want him to see that he’d been right.

“He’s coming to take you home,” Harrison said, sitting down next to me on the bed. I figured we must be in his room. The clock on the wall said it was just after three, which meant I hadn’t been out for long.

“But what about our slumber party?” I asked.

“It can wait,” he said, squeezing my hand. “You should go home tonight, sweetie.”

“I’d rather stay here.” But I knew I wouldn’t be good company for the fun sleepover I’d promised him.

“We’ll have a real slumber party before the summer’s over,” he said. “Just not tonight.”

I rolled onto my back again, looking over at Harrison. “So, how did you find us?” I asked. “Theo and me… How did you know to look for us?”

“I found your purse on the picnic table,” he said. “And my sister said she saw you hanging out with Theo. He’s not a good guy, Whitley. He’s my sister’s on-again, off-again thing, but they pretend to be friends when they’re off. It’s weird…. Anyway, he’s a jerk. I got worried. So I checked the front of the house and I heard you yelling, and there you were.”

“There we were,” I whispered.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I said. “I’m just really, really drunk.”

“Took you long enough to admit it.”

“Screw you.”

“You wish you could.”

I laughed, but it hurt my head, so I stopped. “Ow…”

Harrison smiled. He placed his large hands gently on my shoulders and pulled me upright. “Easy,” he murmured, just as the doorbell rang in the next room.

“You should get back to the party,” I said when he slid an arm around me, walking me into the living room. “I’m making you be a bad host.”

“Party’s over,” he said. “I kicked everyone out after I carried you inside.”

“Christ.” I dropped my head. “I’m so sorry. I totally ruined your party.”

He squeezed my shoulder as we reached the front door. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “I didn’t give a shit about the party. I only threw it because you wanted me to. You’re what I care about.”

I smiled and clumsily kissed his cheek. “Why do you have to be gay?”

“That’s just how God made me.” He reached out with his free hand and opened the door, already wearing his flirty smile. “Hey there.”

Nathan was standing on the front porch, dressed in the same battered blue jeans and black T-shirt he’d had on that morning. His hair was messier than usual, which meant he’d been asleep when Harrison called.

“Whitley…”

His dark eyes passed carefully over me, as if he was checking to make sure every part was still intact. When he looked into my face a moment later, he seemed relieved… and kind of sad. The expression reminded me of one Sylvia used right before she tried to hug me, and for a second I expected Nathan to extend his arms and pull me to him.

But he restrained himself. Instead, he turned to Harrison and said, “Thank you so much for calling me.”

“Get her home safe,” Harrison said, easing me onto the porch. I stumbled a little, and Nathan reached out to hold me up the way Harrison had.

“I can walk,” I told them, though that obviously wasn’t true.

“She’s very drunk,” Harrison said. “She had a lot of vodka.”

Nathan sighed. “Okay. Thanks, Harrison. You know, she’s lucky to have you. Anyone would be.”

Why were they talking about me like I wasn’t there?

Harrison grinned. “You can have me anytime,” he said.

The way Nathan laughed made it clear that he thought Harrison was joking. But of course I knew he wasn’t. Poor Harrison would never have a chance with Nathan. But still, I was grateful to him for keeping it light tonight.

“See you later,” Nathan said, hauling me down the front steps toward his Honda.

“Bye!” Harrison called after us. “Be careful. Good night, Whitley. Call me if you need me.”

“I will,” I tried to yell, but it came out more like a croak as my knees began to shake beneath my weight.

“Careful,” Nathan said, holding me up as he opened the passenger’s side door. He helped me inside and made sure I got my seat belt buckled before shutting the door. He smelled fresh as he leaned across me, a little spicy, and his messy hair tickled my neck. I held my breath until I was buckled in. A second later, he slid into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice so low that I barely heard it over the sound of the purring engine.

“Fine.”

I saw his mouth open, like he might say something, but he shut it again, very slowly. The car began moving, turning around in the gravel driveway and rolling down the long, winding path to the highway with a slightly rocky bounce. Nathan stared out the windshield, his eyes never darting in my direction. He didn’t know what to say, either, I guess.

I rolled my head to the other side and stared out the window. We were away from the trees now, and fireworks were shattering the darkness all around us. They’d probably be going all night, scattering temporary multicolored stars across the sky. Pinks. Blues. Greens. Reds. I was surprised they didn’t give me a headache. I actually found them kind of peaceful in a weird way.

“Don’t take me back,” I whispered, the words leaving my mouth before I even realized I was going to say them.

“What?”

“Don’t take me to the house.” My eyes stayed focused on the fireworks. Bottle rockets flew up out of someone’s backyard. “Can we go somewhere else?”

“Um… sure. Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere.”

After a moment, Nathan just said, “Okay.”

“Where are we?” I asked as Nathan pulled the Honda into an unfamiliar parking lot. The building in front of us looked old and shabby. shay’s diner was written on a lopsided sign above a cracked glass door. The windows glowed with a painful fluorescent light that made my head pound.

“It’s the only place I could find open this late,” Nathan said.

He unfastened his seat belt and climbed out of the car. With a sigh, I did the same.

“You said anywhere,” he reminded me as he took hold of my elbow and helped me walk inside.

“Guess I did,” I mumbled.

The place had those annoying bells that jingled every time someone walked in or out the door, and the waitress behind the counter called, “Hey, y’all!” the second she heard them. Like it was an automatic response. What a sad job to have. Greeting insomniacs at three in the morning with a stupid fake Southern accent. Not to mention the humiliation of wearing that horrific apron. I kind of felt bad for this chick.

“Good morning,” Nathan said, all friendly and cheerful. What a dork. “Can I get a coffee, please? Black. And a couple pieces of toast.”

“No problem, sweetheart.” She probably loved boys like Nathan. So polite and courteous. Of course, at this time of night, any guy who didn’t smack her ass must have seemed like a godsend.

He walked me to a booth with a sticky table and slid into the seat across from me. A second later, the waitress appeared and placed a mug and a plate of toast in front of Nathan. She was in her mid-forties, with reddish-brown hair and a round face. She looked so warm and sunny. Not the kind of woman you’d expect to meet at a dirty diner in the wee hours of the night.

“There you are, baby,” she said to Nathan. “You just holler if you need anything else.”

Okay. So, maybe her accent wasn’t fake. She sounded Texan, or maybe Alabamian. I could never tell the difference.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Anything for you, honey?” she asked me.

I shook my head and curled into a ball where I sat, my feet in the booth, knees to my chest. I could still feel Theo’s hands on my hips, his breath on my face. Like a ghost. Gone, but not gone.

“All right. Just let me know.” She walked back to the counter, her hips swaying to the beat of the country song that played from the ancient-looking jukebox in the corner.

I glanced around. Other than the waitress, Nathan and I were the only people in the diner.

“I guess Hamilton doesn’t have many night owls.”

“It must not,” he agreed. “Here. Drink and eat this.” He shoved the toast and mug toward me.

“Ew,” I said, shoving the coffee back across the table. “No. I hate coffee.” I didn’t mind toast, though, so I picked up a piece and took a bite.

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Whit, just drink it. It’ll help you sober up. Well, okay, scientifically it won’t, but I swear, it’ll make you feel soberer. The toast will help, but—”

“I don’t want to.”

“Don’t be such a baby.”

“I’m not a baby,” I snapped. We glared at each other for a long moment before I gave in and took the mug from him. To be honest, I was really, sickly drunk, and anything that might make me feel better was welcome… even if it did taste like shit.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Nathan laughed as I lifted a hand to pinch my nose. “Are you six years old or what?”

“Shut up.” I took a deep breath through my mouth and raised the mug to my lips. It was scalding hot, and the nose-holding thing didn’t do much to mask the coffee’s bitter taste. It took all of my strength to swallow a few gulps without spitting it out.

When I put the mug back down, Nathan grinned at me.

“I hate you.”

“You just wish you did,” he said.

I took another drink of coffee and picked up my piece of toast again.

“The face you make when you drink it is hilarious,” he teased.

I swallowed a slightly burned bite of bread. “If you aren’t careful, I’ll spit the next mouthful all over you,” I warned.

He laughed again, but it faded into silence within seconds. His face turned suddenly serious, and I braced myself, arms around my knees again. I knew what was on his mind. It was on mine, too. But I didn’t want to talk about it. Or think about it. Ever again.

“Please, don’t,” I said when he started to open his mouth. “Not right now, okay? I can’t talk about it right now…. Can we talk about anything but that?”

“Fine. But if you need to—”

“I know.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Talk about something else.”

There was a long pause, then Nathan finally said, “I’m sorry.”

I stared at him, a little confused.

“I told you this afternoon, but you wouldn’t listen,” he said. “I mean it, though. What I said—”

I shook my head. “Don’t bother. It wasn’t like you were lying, after all.”

“But—”

“It’s fine,” I said. “It’s just… ironic.”

“What do you mean?”

“Back home in Indiana, when I was hooking up all the time with random guys, people called me a whore, but it was like… It wasn’t like everyone knew my name. But here? I’ve been good in comparison to what I used to do. I haven’t done anything with anyone but make out, yet everyone cares, everyone knows me. They call me a slut, but since I’ve been here, I haven’t even done anything.”

Nathan looked a little surprised. “You mean, you aren’t… You didn’t…?”

“Nope. The last time I got laid was graduation night,” I said. “And that wasn’t really a normal thing.”

“What do you mean?” he asked. He was sitting sideways in the booth, one leg hanging out into the aisle between the tables. He was playing with the hole in the knee of his jeans, his eyes on his fingers, like he was suddenly very interested in the denim. “How wasn’t it, uh, normal?”

“I don’t have sex with everyone,” I said. “I’ve hooked up a lot. But I could count the number of people I’ve slept with on one hand, including you. You’d never know it based on what people say, or those pictures, but…”

“Oh.”

I leaned back in my seat and stared out the dirty window. A few fireworks were still erupting from a church parking lot across the street.

“Weeks of posts, tons of comments, pictures he was tagged in… and my dad hasn’t said a word. He just untags himself.”

“That’s why you do this, isn’t it? Because of your dad?”

I turned to face Nathan again. “What do you mean?”

“Your dad,” he said. “Okay, this is going to sound really shrinkish, but I think you act like this—party, drink—because you want his attention. Don’t you?”

“No. That’s stupid.”

“Really?” He leaned across the table, his eyes on mine. I looked away, and he asked, “Then why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you do it? Go out and get wasted all the time. Why?”

My first feeling was anger. I wanted to yell at Nathan and tell him that I lived this way because I wanted to. Because it was fun. Because it worked for me. But that was bullshit. Especially after what had happened tonight.

This wasn’t fun. It hadn’t been for a long time.

I thought of Bailey. I’d been so much like Bailey once. Somehow, I’d gone from that to… this.

“Remember when I told you that I had my first drink when I was fourteen?” I asked, turning to Nathan.

“Yeah.”

“Well, it was at a kegger. I went because all the cool high school kids would be there, and I wanted to make some new friends before freshman year. I went, I drank, and I tried to have fun. And I did. The hangover was hell, though, and I was sure I’d get grounded for drinking, but Mom didn’t even notice. I mean, she ate breakfast with me the next morning and everything. She probably heard me puking in the toilet. But she didn’t say a word.

“Since she didn’t care, I thought I might as well keep going to parties. I went to a few. I met some new people. We weren’t friends or anything. I didn’t have friends, because my middle school best friend, Nola, had stopped hanging out with me. Some girls told her I’d give her a bad reputation or something. But these new people seemed cool. They gave me liquor, and I liked it. I liked being giggly and happy, because I didn’t feel like that very often. Not since the divorce.”

Nathan was quiet. I turned my head to stare out the window again, watching a few more fireworks explode in the sky. I’d never told anyone this part of the story before. No one had asked until now.

“I got really, really smashed one night at the end of freshman year. I mean, the drunkest I’d ever been in my life. I passed out at this party and… Well, I don’t really remember what happened. But I lost my virginity to a guy I didn’t even know. A senior, I think. I felt somehow… I don’t know. Bonded to him? So I gave him my number. I think part of me assumed we were, like, dating or something stupid like that. Of course I don’t have to tell you that he never called. I never saw him again. And I was so humiliated and ashamed.”

I shifted uncomfortably, feeling Nathan’s eyes on me.

“I expected Mom to say something. To scold me for the way I was acting, or at least give me the stupid safe-sex talk. God, I came home drunk all the time. Sometimes I didn’t come home at all. But after that I just… I expected her to see how upset I was and to ask what had happened. Maybe she couldn’t tell I was depressed because she could never admit she was depressed, too. I don’t know. But she never said a word. I mean, she has to know what I’m doing…. She and Dad both have to. Dad has to know, and he hasn’t said anything.”

“So you do want attention.” It wasn’t an accusation. Not harsh. Just a statement.

“Or I did. You’ve seen Facebook. I’m getting plenty of it now,” I said.

“Yeah, but not from the right people.”

I saw Nathan’s fingers move on the table, spreading from a loose fist until all his fingertips touched the stained linoleum. Some people would have taken my hand by now. It just went to show how well he knew me. He knew I wasn’t the type to ask for comfort, so he wouldn’t touch me. Wouldn’t console me.

I cleared my throat. “Anyway. After that, after the first guy, I just kept partying. Maybe it only made me happy for a few hours, but at least I was happy. I tried to be more careful about how drunk I got. I’ve fucked up a few times, gotten trashed enough to agree to have sex, but only a few times.”

I replayed the memories of those boys. Greedy hands clutching at me, pulling me, pushing me. Theirs to use for a night. I guess I was using them, too. None of them had tried to force me, but now, in my head, they all looked like Theo.

“Whitley, you don’t think I… I mean, I didn’t…”

“Take advantage of me? No. If anything, I probably took advantage of you. If my very fuzzy memory is correct.” I smiled a little. “Sorry.”

“Still,” he said. “We probably shouldn’t have…”

“Believe me, Nathan, if I’d known your mom was marrying my father, I wouldn’t have slept with you. And I’ll probably wish I hadn’t told you this tomorrow, when I’m sober, but I had fun that night, thanks to you. So I don’t completely regret it.”

He gave me a small smile. “Do you want to know a secret?”

“I’m not promising I’ll keep it,” I warned, taking another sip of coffee. “As I just demonstrated, I spill my guts after I’ve had too much to drink.”

He laughed and shook his head. “That’s okay. I think I could survive, even if you did tell the world.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” He leaned back in his seat, folding his arms behind his head with a sigh. “So, the truth is, I had a very, very similar experience to yours.”

“Really? How’s that?”

“Well, you may not realize this, but I was a big partier in high school. It’s actually kind of weird we didn’t run into each other a few times.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Really? I guess I just figured that graduation party was a fluke, based on the way you’ve been acting.”

“Hardly,” he said. “That’s how I know so much. Like the mints and the coffee, and Mom’s sleeping schedule. It’s also how Mom knows so much about the warning signs of drinking, how she figured out what happened to Bailey. I put her through hell for, like, three years. Ever since Dad died.”

“What?”

Nathan shrugged. “After Dad’s heart attack sophomore year, I got really… well, angry. Mom and Bailey had each other, but I didn’t have anyone. I felt like Dad had left me. Sounds dumb and selfish, I know, but that’s how it felt then. Some of the guys on the basketball team asked me to come party with them. They gave me pot and beer, and before long, I wasn’t angry anymore. I didn’t feel anything. Then it just became a habit.”

“I’m kind of shocked,” I admitted. “You act like my partying is so disgusting. I just thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I probably should have explained sooner, but I didn’t really want to think about it. I’m embarrassed now, remembering some of the stupid shit I did. God knows if Mom will ever completely trust me again.”

“Nathan, I’m still confused.”

“Graduation night was my last party,” he said. “Or at least my last drink. After that night, I decided I was done with all of it.”

“Why? What changed?”

A sly grin crept across Nathan’s face. “I got really, really wasted graduation night, and when I woke up, some sassy, sexy vixen had stolen my virginity.”

My jaw must have hit that sticky table.

“I thought we’d had a great night, but when I tried to get her number, she promised she’d never see me again,” he continued. “It kind of broke my heart. Call me a romantic, but I’d never expected my first time to be so… impersonal.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Oh my God. Oh my God. I was your first? Like, I took your virginity?”

“Yep.”

“But… you were really good.”

He blushed. “I bet you say that to all the boys.”

“No, I’m serious. You were sweet, like… gentle. The other guys I’ve been with just…”

“Used you?”

“Yeah. I mean, I guess it goes both ways, but… you were so different.”

“I liked you. I wanted to make you happy. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, but thanks for saying I was good.”

“I just…” My brain was moving too slowly. My words faltered. “You… you weren’t a virgin. There’s no way.”

“I was.”

“But you’re eighteen,” I argued. “And hot. And a boy. You can’t tell me there weren’t opportunities.”

“There were. I just didn’t take them,” he said. “I saw so many of my teammates hook up with a different girl every weekend. Sure, it sounds great, but I just wasn’t into it. I didn’t want to be that kind of guy. I was waiting for something special—maybe not love, and definitely not marriage, but someone I liked a lot, someone I could see myself with for a while.”

I felt the weight of his words sink into my stomach. He’d wanted something special, someone special. Instead he’d gotten me.

“That’s why I quit drinking,” he said. “After you left, I realized what I’d become, and I didn’t like it. So I decided to change things. Start fresh.”

“Fuck. Nathan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged. This time, he did reach across the table to take my hand. “If it hadn’t been for you, I’d still be out there getting hammered every weekend. Still driving my mother crazy. I guess I just needed someone or something to shake me up. You taught me a lesson, Whit. And sometimes I hate you for it, but… but I’m trying not to.”

“You can hate me if you want to. I’d hate me.”

“But I don’t want to,” he said. “You’re part of my family—or you will be soon—and I want it to work. I’ve put Mom and Bailey through enough, and I want them to be happy now. That’s why I try so hard to keep it bottled up, how seeing you makes me feel, but sometimes I just… I’m sorry. For some of the things I’ve said.”

“You were right, though. About me being a whore. If I hadn’t acted like such a… If I’d been different, Theo wouldn’t have—”

“Stop it,” he said. “I don’t care how you acted. What happened tonight wasn’t your fault.”

“You weren’t there.”

“It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t your fault, Whitley. And you’re not a whore.”

I didn’t say anything. I just stared at Nathan’s hand on mine for a long moment. I’d done to him essentially the same thing that senior boy had done to me when I was fifteen. I’d used him and abandoned him and taken something from him. But instead of regressing like I had, falling into the habits and giving up on people and happiness and anything good, Nathan had worked to turn himself around, to change everything, no matter what people thought.

If he were a drug addict, I would have been his rock bottom.

“Thank you,” I said.

“For what?”

“For trying not to hate me.”