Page 52 of Jar of Hearts
A comfortable silence fell between them, and Geo couldn’t help but smile. It was starting to feel like it used to, and she was grateful for the second chance. It only proved she was happier when she had her shit together. Her grades, for instance, needed to be the focus from now on. She had midterms coming up, and she couldn’t afford to blow it.
“Bring Calvin to the party at Chad’s this Friday,” Angela said. “If he wants to be with a sixteen-year-old, then he needs to see what your life is like. No more bullshit compartmentalizing.”
“I already asked him,” Geo said with a sigh. “He won’t go to any high school parties. He said he’d feel stupid because he’ll be three years older than the oldest guy. So I told him I didn’t want to go bars with him anymore because I hate being five years younger than theyoungest girl.” She looked up at the celling. “It’s, uh, something we argue about a lot.”
“He doesn’t hit you, does he?” Angela said. Her tone was nonchalant, but Geo could detect the concern behind it.
“What? No.” Geo continued to stare at the ceiling. “Of course not.”
“Tess said she noticed bruises on your arm during practice a couple weeks ago. She said they looked like fingers, like someone gripped you too hard.”
“Tess is making shit up because she wants to be your new bestie.” Geo spoke fiercely, glaring at her friend. The bruises were high up on her arm, close to her shoulder, and she hoped that Angela wouldn’t insist on checking. “Anyone with two eyes can see that.”
Her friend raised an eyebrow. Geo was being too defensive.
“If he was hitting me, I would tell you,” she said, softening her tone. To her own ears she sounded completely sincere. “I know that shit’s not okay.”
The sad part was, she did, too.
Angela was quiet another moment. “Okay,” she said. “Well, if he’s going to be in your life, that means he’s going to be in my life, so I guess I should at least try get to know him. Plan something this weekend so we can all hang out. But not Friday. Friday’s the football game and Chad’s party, and you’re doing both, because we’re fucking sixteen, and that’s the shit we do. Now get up. I’ll help you with your split jump. We have to work off that pizza.”
“I’m back on the squad?” Geo held her breath.
“Yes, bitch,” Angela said with a smile. “Now, up. I love you, but your thighs are getting fat, and who else would have the balls to tell you that but me?”
20
They both got drunk at Chad’s party. It was unintended—Geo didn’t even like alcohol, but Friday was a long day, and she hadn’t eaten since lunch. Chad Fenton, not a football player or athlete of any kind, was popular at St. Martin’s for exactly two reasons: his epic parties (because his parents were never home) and his fruit punch (because his college dropout brother was happy to buy all his booze).
It was the fruit that did Geo in. Chad made his infamous punch in a giant plastic paint barrel, adding watermelon, cantaloupe, strawberries, orange slices, and pineapple to water, club soda, and vodka. Lots of vodka. He made it in the morning, so that by the time people started coming over, the fruit was saturated with alcohol. Geo, starving, passed on the beer, but munched on the fruit. By elevenP.M., she was hammered.
The music was loud and pulsing, Montell Jordan and R. Kelly blasting through speakers set up all around the house. For the first time in months, Geo felt like herself. She was surrounded by people her own age, listening to music she liked, not feeling like she had to apologize for being too young or too busy with school. It was funny how when she was around Calvin, she felt like a totally different person. And while she liked who she was around him—sexy, slightly out of control—she liked being this person, too.
Still, she missed him.
She had no idea where Angela ended up, and she wandered around the large house for a few minutes trying not to look as drunk as she felt. She eventually found her best friend in the den at the back of the house. She was nestled in the lap of Mike Bennett, St. Martin’s starting quarterback, her short dress hiked up to expose her long, lean thighs. Geo was wearing a similar dress, but everything always looked better on Angela.
Geo watched them kiss for a few seconds, more amused than surprised. The two had an on-again, off-again relationship, and the on times seemed to be more out of obligation to their respective statuses as the football star and cheer captain—people assumed they should date, so they did.
However, Angela was pretty damn sure Mike was gay. He sometimes lost his erection with her—something she swore never happened with any other guy—and a few months ago, in his bedroom, she’d found a gay porn magazine tucked in his gym bag under the bed. When she’d confronted him, he’d laughed it off, saying that one of the guys on the team must have stuck it there as a joke. She’d broken it off shortly after.
“I’m nobody’s beard,” she’d told Geo. “But he is the quarterback. If I don’t have anyone to go to prom with, it’ll be him.”
You would never guess he was gay now, the way his tongue was rammed down her friend’s throat. Geo headed over to the two of them, the room spinning a bit, and almost tripped on the way there. She tapped Angela on the shoulder.
“Ang, I’m gonna go.”
Her friend looked up, lips shiny with Mike’s saliva. “Why? It’s only eleven.”
The room spun again, and Geo placed a hand on the wall to support herself. “I don’t feel so great.”
“Holy shit, you’re wasted. I told you not to eat the fruit.” Angela looked back at Mike, then up at Geo. “How are you getting home?”
“I’ll walk,” Geo said. “I need the air.”
“If you need to go with her, that’s cool,” Mike said, not sounding particularly disappointed. It made Geo think Angela was rightabout him. You didn’t get a girl to sit on your lap and make out with you—let alone the most beautiful girl in school—and then let her go home early without a hint of protest.
“I’m really okay,” Geo said. “Stay where you are. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
