Saving Zoë

Twelve

The second the band starts playing a slow song, I try to bolt for the bathroom. But then Parker grabs my arm and says, “No way. Forget it. Step away from the vodka, and come with me.”

I grip his hand tightly as I follow behind, hoping he’ll understand that my sudden display of hand passion has more to do with the effects of drinking than any romantic or passionate connection, because if I’ve bonded with anyone tonight it would definitely be Teresa, the former Queen Bee of Parkview Junior High. The girl with the moonshine water bottles.

I mean Jenay, now free to make out with Chess whenever she chooses and no longer needing alcohol as an excuse, took only a sip or two, before giving her bottle away. And even though everyone else was pretty much drinking on the way to the dance, it was Teresa and I who kept at it long after we’d arrived. And it’s not that I actually like it all that much, because to be honest, it really is a little too sweet. But with Jenay totally focused on Chess and ignoring me, there’s no way I can not drink and still manage to have a good time.

It’s like, I’ve barely finished my bottle, and already I’m feeling lighter, looser, and free. More like my sister, and a lot less like me.

“Are you having fun?” Parker asks, tightening his grip on my waist and pulling me closer.

“Urn, yeah.” I shrug, gazing around at all the sparkly silver decorations, the fake snow at the edge of the stage, and the hot, sweaty lead singer, his eyes shut tight as he wails into the microphone, singing a song about lost love.

At first it all seems so pretty and sparkly, but soon it turns blurry and bendy. And when Parker brings his hand to my cheek and says, “Look at me,” I push him away and rush for the door, mumbling something about needing some air.

“Are you okay?” he asks, concern in his voice as he trails close behind.

I rock from foot to foot, hugging myself with both arms, not having considered the cold in my rush to be free. All I wanted was some time alone, so I could clear my head, settle my stomach, and stand in the dark, watching my breath escape my body and then disappear into the night.

What I didn’t want was for Parker to tag along. Partly because I wasn’t sure if I was going to be sick, and partly because I’m not sure I’m ready for Parker, and me, and all that we entail. But now that he’s here, I don’t want him to think I’m a freak. So I try to say something just to fill up the quiet.

“Which one do you think is ours?” I ask, motioning to the long line of black shiny limos, as Parker removes his jacket and places it over my narrow, pale, goose bump-covered shoulders.

He squints across the parking lot and smiles. “Third one,” he says, nodding like he’s sure.

“No way.” I shake my head and gaze at the long line of generic cars. “I mean, how can you even tell? They all look alike.”

“See the guy standing next to it? He’s our driver.” He nods. “I can tell by the hat.”

“They all wear hats, its part of the uniform,” I say, gazing at him and laughing in spite of myself.

“Trust me. I can tell. His hat is different.” He looks at me, those gorgeous blue eyes that used to ignore me, now searching for mine.

And even though my head has cleared, my stomach still feels a little weird. But I know it’s just nerves. I also know how to get through it. “Wanna bet?” I ask, suddenly feeling better, braver, using Zoë as my guide.

“Bet what?” He gives me a dubious yet interested look.

“That you’re wrong. That you’re totally, completely off base. Because there’s no way you can tell from all the way over here if that guy’s really our driver.” I look him in the eye, my gaze steady and sure, my mouth curving into a smile.

“And if I’m right?” he asks, obviously interested in where this might lead. “Then you win.” I shrug.

“Yeah, but what do I win?” He smiles as he moves in closer, quickly adapting to the new me. “It’s a bet. So there’s got to be a prize, right?”

I look at him, gazing directly into his eyes for the first time tonight. “Oh, there’s a prize all right. But you won’t know what it is until it’s too late and you’ve already lost.” I laugh, grabbing hold of his hand and pulling him across the lot, all the way over to limo number three.

“Hey,” Parker says, reaching out to slap hands with the chauffeur, who squeezes his cell phone between his

shoulder and ear so he can slap back.

“You guys ready to leave?” He places his hand over the mouthpiece, and gazes from Parker to me.

“No, we’re just—” Parker starts, but I cut him off.

“I just need to get something out of the back. It’ll only take a sec.” I smile, watching as he winks at Parker before walking away.

“So, about this prize,” Parker says, closing the door and appearing by my side so fast and seamless it’s like he has springs in his shoes, ones that activate at the first hint of sex.

I look into his eyes and wait, knowing that soon, he’ll lean in to kiss me.

We kiss for a while. And while it’s nice, and sweet, and way better than that time in the closet since there’s no bad smells or hockey sticks shoved against my butt, I’m still not fully convinced that he actually wants to make out with me — boring, inept, plain Jane me.

So in my head, I imagine I’m Zoë — that I’m beautiful, wild, glamorous, and experienced — that there’s nothing in the world that can scare me.

And as Parker wraps his arms around my waist, I slide my hands down the front of his shirt, making my way down to his pants, hesitating near the spot that I would never try to touch, but that Zoë wouldn’t think twice about.

“I don’t get you,” he whispers, suddenly pulling away. “It’s like, inside the dance you’d barely even look at me, but now?” He shakes his head and squints, obviously not complaining, but still, more than a little perplexed.

But I just smile, knowing I’m no longer me. I ditched that nervous loser and became someone better. “I lost the bet,” I say, gazing at him with Zoë’s eyes, touching him with Zoë’s hands, and kissing him with Zoë’s lips.

He kisses me on the neck, as I lean back against the seat, feeling so incredibly daring and free. Then he slips his finger under my blue silk strap, sliding it all the way down, as I turn my head and gaze toward the window, shocked to see my own dull reflection staring back at me.

“I can’t do this,” I say, pushing him away, frantically reaching for my strap.

Parker just looks at me, his face flushed and confused, his hands halted in panic. “But you seemed so—”

I turn back toward the window, hoping not to see me, feeling disappointed when i do.

“Echo, really, I didn’t mean… please don’t be mad,” he says, his hands fumbling awkwardly as he reaches for me, trying to make me face him.

I move farther away, my heart beating frantically as I run my hands through my hair and over my dress, erasing all evidence of my little digression, knowing I need to act fast, to come up with some excuse that will explain my bizarre behavior, so everything will get back to normal and stop being so weird. “Jeez Parker, it was only a limo bet. I mean, just how big a prize did you think you were gonna get?” I ask, chasing it with a laugh so he’ll think we’re okay.

He laughs too, his eyes relaxing, his face clearly relieved. Then he opens the door and steps onto the curb, offering his hand as a guide. “Well, I probably should’ve told you this before, and I hope you’re not too mad, but I have a confession to make,” he says, slipping his arm through mine as we head back inside.

I gaze up at him, happy that we’ve moved on, but only mildly interested in what it might be.

“That wasn’t really our limo.” He smiles.