Aria leaned against the Foxy bar and ordered a cup of black coffee. It
was so crowded in this tent that the lining of her polka-dotted dress
was already drenched with sweat. And she'd only been here for twenty
minutes.
"Hey." Her brother sidled up next to her. He wore the same
gray suit he'd worn to the funeral and polished black shoes that
belonged to Byron.
"Hey," Aria squeaked, surprised. "I…I didn't know
you were coming." By the time she'd gotten out of the shower to get
ready for Foxy, the house was empty. In a moment's confusion, she'd
thought her family had abandoned her.
"Yeah. I came with…" Mike
whirled around and pointed to a thin, pale girl Aria recognized from
Noel Kahn's party the week before. "Hot, huh?"
"Yeah." Aria downed her coffee in three gulps and noticed that her hands were shaking. This was her fourth cup in an hour.
"So where's Sean?" Mike asked. "That's who you're here with, right? Everyone's talking about it."
"They are?" Aria asked faintly.
"Yeah. You're like the new It couple."
Aria
didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She could just picture some of the
Rosewood Day girls gossiping about her and Sean. "I don't know where he
is."
"Why? Did the It couple break up already?"
"No…" The truth was, Aria was sort of hiding from Sean.
Yesterday,
after Meredith told Aria that she and Byron were in love, Aria had run
back to Sean and burst into tears. Never in a gazillion years had she
expected Meredith to say what she said. Now that Aria knew the truth,
she felt helpless. Her family was doomed. For ten minutes, she'd wailed
into Sean's shoulder, What am I going to doooooo? Sean calmed her down
enough to take her home and even walked her up to her room, put her into
bed, and laid her favorite stuffed animal, Pigtunia, on the pillow
beside her.
As soon as Sean left, Aria threw back the covers and
paced. She peeked into the bedroom. Her mom was there, sleeping
peacefully…alone. But Aria couldn't wake her. When she woke up a few
hours later, she went to her bedroom again, steeling herself to just do
it, but this time, Byron was in bed beside Ella. He lay on his side,
with his arm slung over Ella's shoulder.
Now why would you cuddle, if you were in love with someone else?
In
the morning, when Aria awoke from her one big hour of sleep, her eyes
were puffy and her skin had broken out in little red bumps. She felt
hungover, and as she ran over the night's events, she crawled back under
her duvet in shame. Sean had tucked her in. She'd blown snot on his
shoulder. She'd wailed like an insane person. What better way to lose
the guy you like than slobber all over him? When Sean picked her up for
Foxy—amazing that he'd even shown up at all—he immediately wanted to
talk about last night, but Aria shrugged him off, saying she felt much
better. Sean looked at her sort of funny, but was smart enough not to
ask questions. And now she was dodging him.
Mike leaned up against
the wooden Foxy bar, bobbing his head when the DJ put on Franz
Ferdinand. There was a self-satisfied little smile on his face—Aria knew
he felt like the man for scoring a Foxy ticket, since he was only a
sophomore. But she was his sister, and she could see pain and sadness
underneath. It was like when they were little and hanging out at the
community pool, and Mike's friends were calling him a homo because he
was wearing white swim trunks that had turned pinkish in the wash. Mike
tried to take it like a man, but later, during adult swim, Aria caught
him secretly crying by the baby pool.
She wanted to say something to
make him feel better. About how she was sorry for what she was going to
have to tell Ella—Aria was going to tell her mom that night when she got
home, no excuses—and that none of this was his fault, and if their
family fell apart, it would still be okay. Somehow.
But she knew what would happen if she tried. Mike would just run away.
Aria
grabbed her coffee and strode away from the bar. She just needed to be
moving. "Aria," called a voice behind her. She turned. Sean was about
six feet away, near one of the tables. He looked upset.
Panicked,
Aria put her drink down and dashed toward the women's bathroom. One of
her chunky wedges slid right off her foot. Jamming it back on, she kept
pushing forward, only to get stuck at a wall of kids. She tried to elbow
her way through, but no one was moving.
"Hey." Sean was right next to her.
"Oh," Aria yelled over the music, trying to act nonchalant. "Hi."
Sean
took Aria by the arm and led her into the parking lot, which was the
one place at Foxy that was empty. Sean retrieved his keys from the
valet. He helped Aria into his car and drove to an empty spot farther
down the driveway.
"What's going on with you?" Sean demanded.
"Nothing." Aria stared out the window. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not. You're like…a zombie. It's freaking me out."
"I
just…" Aria ran the strand of pearls she'd worn as a bracelet up and
down her wrist. "I don't know. I don't want to bother you."
"Why not?"
She
shrugged. "Because you don't want to hear it. You must think I'm a
complete freak. Like, I'm super-obsessed with my parents. It's all I've
talked about."
"Well…it sort of has been. But I mean—"
"I wouldn't
be mad," she interrupted, "if you wanted to dance with other girls and
whatever. There are some really cute girls here."
Sean blinked, his face blank. "But I don't want to dance with anyone else."
They were quiet. The bass line of Kanye West's "Gold Digger" pumped out of the tent.
"You thinking about your parents?" Sean asked quietly.
She nodded. "I guess. I have to tell my mom tonight."
"Why do you have to tell her?"
"Because…" Aria couldn't tell him about A. "It has to be me. This can't go on any longer."
Sean sighed. "You put a lot of pressure on yourself. Can't you take a night off?"
At
first, Aria felt defensive, but then she leaned back. "I really think
you should go back in there, Sean. You shouldn't let me ruin your
night."
"Aria…" Sean let out a frustrated sigh. "Stop it."
Aria made a face. "I just don't think it's going to work out for us."
"Why?"
"Because…"
She paused, trying to figure out what she wanted to say. Because she
wasn't the typical Rosewood girl? Because whatever Sean liked about her,
there was so much else about her not to like? She felt like she was one
of those wonder drugs that were always advertised on TV. The narrator
would go through paragraphs of how the drug had helped millions of
people, but at the very end of the commercial, he'd say really quietly
that side effects include heart palpitations and an oily discharge. With
her, it'd be like, Cool, kooky girl…but family baggage may result in
psycho outbursts and randomly blowing snot on your expensive shirts.
Sean
carefully put his hand over Aria's. "If you're scared that I'm freaked
about last night, I'm not. I really like you. I sort of like you more
because of last night."
Tears came to Aria's eyes. "Really?"
"Really."
He pressed his forehead to hers. Aria held her breath. Finally, their lips touched. Then again. Harder, this time.
Aria
pressed her mouth to his and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him
closer. His body felt so warm and right. Sean ran his hands up Aria's
waist. All at once, they were biting each other's bottom lips, their
hands scratching up and down each other's backs. Then they broke away,
breathing heavily and staring into each other's eyes.
They dove back
for each other. Sean pulled at the zipper on Aria's dress. He flung off
his jacket and threw it into the backseat, and she pawed at the buttons
on his shirt. She kissed Sean's gorgeous ears and ran her hands inside
his shirt, to his smooth, bare skin. He circled her waist with his hands
as best he could, his body at an awkward angle on the cramped Audi
seat. Sean tilted the seat back, lifted Aria up, and brought her to him.
The knobs of her spine grated against the steering wheel.
She arched
her neck as Sean kissed her throat. When she opened her eyes, she saw
something—a yellow piece of paper under the windshield wiper. At first
she thought it was some sort of flyer—maybe a kid advertising some
after-Foxy party—but then she noticed the big, bulky words, written
sloppily in black Sharpie marker.
Don't forget! Stroke of midnight!
She jerked away from Sean.
"What is it?" he asked.
She pointed at the note, her hands shaking. "Did you write that?" It was a stupid question, though: She already knew the answer.