shame.
Each time I dilated, it got a bit easier. But the morning of the party, I knew it wasnât enough.
When Vee drove up in her momâs minivan just after seven, she looked surprisingly chipper for 1) being the designateddriver and 2) driving her momâs minivan instead of her Jetta. But sheâd been much less bitchy since her doctor had switched her to a soft cast and told her she didnât need to use crutches anymore.
âAll right, girlsâare you ready to paaar-TAY?â she crowed as I got into the backseat.
âYou do know that the whole point of being designated driver is that you donât do any drinking, right?â Faith asked. As SADD secretary, she had been the one whoâd organized our car pool. After extensive soul-searching, she had decided junior year that the Bible did not specifically support laws against underage drinking, and that God would forgive her for doing something technically illegal as long as she wasnât hurting anyone else.
âOf course, Miss Prissy Pants,â Vee said, giving me her patented love-Faith-so-much-but-OMG-can-she-be-a-buzzkill eye roll. âCanât you see that Iâm just high on LIIIIIFE?â She put down her window and whooped into the frigid night air, setting some neighborhood dogs barking.
âSweet Jesus, girl,â Faithâs boyfriend, Matt, yelled. âTurn the damn heat on. And the stereo.â
âSorry, Mattie,â Vee purred, flipping him the bird, âI donât have any Hannah Montana for you to listen to tonight.â But she switched on the radio and found something loud and bassy.
When we picked Sam up, he pulled himself next to me and gave me a deep, hard kiss. Involuntarily, my knees pulledtogether. I felt a phantom throb between my legs and forced myself to breathe in and out. I willed my thighs to relax.
âEverything all right?â Sam asked when he came up for air, and to put his seat belt on.
âOf course,â I said. I had to get my act together. âItâs just freezing in here.â
âHere, take my coat. Iâve got the perfect thing to warm you right up. . . .â
My hands were ice-cold, but he slipped them underneath his waistband.
âJesus, Wilmington. At least wait until we get to Sullivanâs house?â Bruce, sitting shotgun, peered back through the rearview mirror at us. âYouâve got dibs on the master suite. We get it.â
I blushed, and used it as an excuse to pull my hands out of Samâs pants. He turned and leaned forward to grab Bruce in a headlock. âWhat, lordy-boy? You giving up your territory? We can wrestle for it.â
When we got to Andy Sullivanâs place, everyone else congregated at the keg in a parade of red Solo cups, but I spotted some people doing tequila shots at a back table.
âHey, Krissy, you want?â asked Craig Martinez, holding out his arm.
I didnât want. I needed. I took a lick of salt with lime in hand and tossed down two shots.
âThanks,â I said, my eyes watering. Craig grinned, and inthe light it looked like a leer.
I went back over to the keg. About halfway through my second cup, I was finally ready to face Sam. He was down in the rec room playing pool with a bunch of his teammates, and I brought him a couple of vodka shots, thinking that if he were drunk off his ass heâd be less likely to realize that something was wrong with me. I watched him for a while with Faith, until Vee came down and told us people were starting to go into the hot tub.
She made a face when I brought out Aunt Carlaâs suit. âOh. My. God. Why did you bring that thing?â
âI couldnât find the bikini you gave me,â I lied.
âWhatev. Good thing Samâs probably so horny heâd screw a horse.â
My laugh sounded tinny even to myself.
Vee and Faith shrieked as they stepped out onto the freezing deck. When they dropped their towels and slid
Xara X. Piper;Xanakas Vaughn