He reached down and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. He said something I couldn’t hear.
“What?” I yelled.
He yelled, “Don’t ever cut your hair, okay?”
“I have to! I’d look like—like a witch.”
Jeremiah tapped his ear and said, “I can’t hear you!”
“Witch!” I shook my hair around my face for emphasis and mimed stirring a cauldron and cackling.
“I like you witchy,” he said in my ear. “How about just trims?”
I shouted, “I promise not to cut my hair short if you promise to give up your beard dream!”
He’d been talking about growing a beard ever since Thanksgiving, when some of his high school friends got a contest going to see who could grow it the longest. I’d told him no way, it reminded me too much of my dad.
“I’ll consider it,” he said, kissing me.
He tasted like beer, and I probably did too.
Then Jeremiah’s frat brother Tom—also known as Redbird for reasons unknown to me—spotted us, and he came charging at Jeremiah like a bull. He was wearing his underwear and carrying a water bottle. And they weren’t boxers, they were tighty whities. “Break it up, break it up!” he shouted.
They started messing around, and when Jeremiah got Tom in a headlock, Tom’s water bottle of beer spilled all over me and Anika’s dress.
“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled. When Tom was really drunk, he said everything twice.
“It’s okay,” I said, wringing out the skirt and trying not to look at the lower half of his body.
I left to go clean my dress in the bathroom, but there was a long line, so I went to the kitchen. People were doing body shots on the kitchen table; Jeremiah’s frat brother Luke was licking salt out of a red-haired girl’s belly button.
“Hey, Isabel,” he said, looking up.
“Um, hey, Luke,” I said. Then I spotted some girl throwing up in the sink, and I booked it out of there.
I headed to the upstairs bathroom. At the top of the staircase, I squeezed past a guy and a girl making out, and I accidentally stepped on the guy’s hand. “I’m so sorry,” I said, but he didn’t seem to notice either way, since he had his other hand up the girl’s shirt.
When I finally made it to the bathroom, I locked the door behind me and let out a little sigh of relief. This party was even wilder than usual. I guessed with the end of year upon us and finals over, everybody was letting loose. I was kind of glad Anika hadn’t been able to come. It wouldn’t be her scene—not that it was mine, either.
I dabbed liquid soap onto the wet marks and crossed my fingers it wouldn’t stain. Someone tried to open the door, and I called out, “Just a sec.”
As I stood there, dabbing at the dress, I heard girls on the other side talking. I wasn’t really paying attention until I heard Lacie’s voice. I heard her say, “He looks hot tonight, right?”
Another voice said, “He always looks hot.”
She was slurring as she said, “Hell yeah he does.”
The other girl said, “I’m so jealous you got to hook up with him.”
In a singsong voice, Lacie said, “Whatever happens in Cabo stays in Cabo.”
I felt dizzy all of a sudden. I leaned my back againstthe bathroom door to steady myself. There was no way she was talking about Jeremiah. No way.
Someone banged on the door, and I jumped.
Without thinking, I opened it. Lacie’s hand flew to her mouth when she saw me. The look on her face was like a punch in the stomach. I felt physical pain. I could hear the other girls’ sharp intakes of breath, but it all felt far away. I felt like I was sleepwalking as I moved past her and the girls and down the hallway.
I couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true. Not my Jere.
