Free Something Real by Heather Demetrios Page B

you going?”
    My eyes widen, and there are internal fireworks, and all I can say is, “Um. Yeah.”
    Tessa and Mer elbow each other none too subtly.
    Patrick smiles his crooked upturn of the lips. “Then I’ll see you later tonight.”
    He grabs the record out of Tessa’s hand and raises his eyebrows. It’s a ninety-nine-cent Weird Al Yankovic album.
    Tessa shrugs. “It called to me.”
    He laughs and puts it in a bag after he rings her up.
    “See you tonight,” Mer chirps.
    Patrick picks up his book and nods. “Later.”
    My eyes snag on his, but I can feel a blush creeping up my neck, so I say a quick good-bye and stumble out the door.
    “Success!” Tessa says, pumping her fist as we walk down the street. “I knew he was into you! Haven’t I been saying that for months?”
    “You guys are shameless,” I mutter. They don’t buy my grouchiness. I can’t hide the goofy smile that snuck onto my face as soon as I left the store.
    Mer shimmies down the sidewalk, ignoring the amused glances of passersby. “ Parents out of town! Cha-cha-cha. Party at my house. Cha-cha-cha!”
    Tessa gives me a long-suffering woe-is-me look. “This is before wine coolers. She’s going to be out of control tonight.”
    Mer turns around and grins. “I’ll hold your hair back if you hold mine.”
    We pass a newsstand where glossy tabloids yell at us with words like REHAB, CHEATING, and EXPOSED on the covers. It feels like someone just threw a bucket of cold water on me. Like, Wake the hell up, Bonnie™. How many headlines will I have this time? Which trashy magazines will put me or someone from my family on the cover?
    Patrick better not be crushing on me right when everything changes and I can’t have him.
    *   *   *
     
    I take a sip from Benny’s red plastic cup and grimace. “ Bleh . How can you drink this stuff?”
    “Because I’m so manly.” He puffs out his chest, and I can’t help but laugh.
    We’re hiding out on Mer’s back porch, away from the spilled beer and loud laughter.
    “Whatever,” I say. “Just … don’t get crazy. Camera phones are not our friends.”
    I don’t trust people I barely know to resist the temptation to sell a story or a picture to Us Weekly .
    Benny takes another drag of his cigarette. “MetaReel rears its ugly head.”
    “Yeah.”
    He snorts as a few of Mer’s drama friends fall into a pile on the trampoline that takes up most of her backyard. They laugh and shriek and crawl all over one another with tipsy affection. The old, familiar ache comes back, pulsing and raw. I wish I could laugh so hard my stomach hurt. Don’t remember the last time I did.
    Benny blows his smoke away from me, out the side of his mouth. “I can see the headline now: Benton™ Baker, Raging Alcoholic? ”
    We shouldn’t have come.
    “Let’s skip out,” I say. “If Chuck saw us leave the house, there could be cameras on their way and—”
    “He didn’t see us!” Benny’s voice is laced with frustration. I’ve been a nervous wreck ever since we got here, wondering if Patrick will show, half hoping that he won’t. “We were careful, trust me. Just … enjoy being out while it lasts.”
    The sliding glass door opens, and the sounds of the party dance in the air: Kanye West, drunken laughter, hollering.
    “There you are,” says Tessa. She’s wearing the hilarious shirt she bought on her last trip to Korea with her family that has pictures of smiling flowers around the words Life is beautiful. Be my happy place.
    Her lips turn up in an impish smirk. “He’s here.”
    My body reacts as if it just jumped out of a plane—elation followed by sheer panic.
    Benny gives her a puzzled look. “Who’s here?”
    “I’ll answer that with a riddle: what walks on two legs and is the object of Chloe’s affection?”
    He laughs. “Ah. Sheldon.” He turns to me. “Get your ass in there, Chloe.”
    My voice goes whiny. “Can’t you go with me?” He takes a particularly long drag as if to