Page 26 of Going the Distance
“It’s not just me, right?” I said, clutching Cam’s sleeve, looking between him and the guys. “He’s being weird.”
“He’s being a dick,” Warren agreed, and walked off.
By the time Lee was on beer refill number thirteen, he was acting as if I wasn’t even there. He pulled the tap on the keg, swaying a little as he stood, laughing at something Jon Fletcher had just said.
“Lee,” I said, “don’t you think you’ve had enough for now? It’s not even eleven o’clock….” I hiccupped. I’d only had a couple cups of beer, but it was enough to make me feel less than sober.
“Shut up, Shelly.”
When Lee told me to shut up, he was usually smiling. Now, though, he was rolling his eyes at me, grinning at Jon like it was some big joke. Jon didn’t look like he found it so funny, though, and looked at me awkwardly.
“Lee…”
“Stop trailing around after me like a lost puppy. It’s justsad.Just because Noah’s not around anymore doesn’t mean you have to moon over him around me.”
Then he barged past me, leaving me with my jaw somewhere on the kitchen floor.
“He’s just drunk,” Jon said apologetically. “He’s—”
“Sure.”
“I’m gonna…” He patted my shoulder before making his way out of the kitchen and calling out to someone.
I was still standing there when some of the guys from the basketball team barged through, holding a bottle of tequila aloft, shouting, “Shots! Shots! Shots!” and, for some reason, I followed them.
Out in the hallway of Jon Fletcher’s house, the party intensified. The music was louder, different songs pouring from different open doors, and people leaning against the walls or draped around plant pots and the banister.
It was a lot hotter out here, too, and harder to move.
I walked right into someone and stumbled back into someone else, staggering unsteadily as I tried to find my footing again. The first person I’d bumped into caught my elbow.
“Hey,” I cried, seeing it was Levi. “They’re doing shots. You up for it?”
“I’m driving.”
“Oh, yeah, of course. Well, you can come watch the rest of us do shots.”
“Lee told me to keep an eye on you if you got drunk—”
“I’m not drunk!” I protested. “Kind of offended, a little tipsy, but not drunk.”
“—and he told me to stop you from doing shots. The guys said you don’t handle your drink well, and, much as I don’t mind keeping an eye on you, I amnotgoing to stand there holding your hair back while you puke into a toilet bowl.”
I argued that I wouldn’t puke, but I was too angry about Lee’s attitude tonight to take much notice of what Levi was saying. I’d lost sight of the arm holding a tequila bottle up in the air above the crowd like a neon orange flag held by a tour guide. If Lee was that concerned for me, then why did he push me away? Why wasn’t he looking out for me himself if he thought I was so much of a problem?
Why hadn’t he told me he didn’t want to go to college with me anymore?
And I started to cry.
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Levi said.
I sniffled, but now that I’d started, I couldn’t stop. I saw a few people glaring at Levi, like he’d done something to upset me, and I half expected him to walk away and leave me for someone else to look after.
But he took my sweaty hand and said gently that maybe some fresh air would help, and pushed through the crowds to the front door, tugging me along behind him. Outside, we went to sit on the curb in front of the house, and after a couple of minutes, I calmed down. It was mild, but after how hot it was inside the house with so many people in there, I shivered, rubbing my arms.
“Feel better now?” Levi asked me.
I wiped my fingertips under my eyes to try and get rid of any rogue mascara, and then wiped my nose with the back of my hand. My purse was inside somewhere. It had Kleenex in it, but that was no good to me right now.
