She eventually called Jessica, her oldest sister, and the two of them had a quick conversation that seemed to focus on all the times Caro had covered for Jessica in the past. “You owe me,” Caro kept saying, and apparently she won the argument because she hung up and said, “Jess’ll be here in five minutes.”
“Great,” I said. “Let’s wait outside. I need fresh air.”
“M’fine,” she mumbled. “Sleepy. Home. Bed. Heather.” That last word sounded more like a threat and she frowned.
“Yeah, okay.” I pulled Caro back from Drew, who seemed more than happy to shove her away and get back to more important things, like a boy who showed up at his house just to spend time with him.
Oliver and I got Caro around the corner and into the backseat of Jessica’s car. “If you puke, you’re dead to me, Caro,” Jessica said, but Caro just ignored her and said, “But I want to ride in the front.”
“Drunk people in the back,” I told her. “It’s a cardinal rule.”
“I’ve never heard of that rule,” Oliver said with a grin.
“Yeah.” Caro was now trying to lie down, even as Oliver and I were climbing in next to her. “You made that up.”
“Shove over,” I told her. “Your shoes are taking up way too much room.”
“They have a big personality,” she slurred, and I saw Jessica giving us all the evil eye in the rearview mirror. I couldn’t blame her, though. If I had a sister who woke me up in the middle of the night to pick up her and her drunk friends, I’d be pissed, too.
“Do you have enough room?” I asked Oliver once we left Drew’s neighborhood, back down the hill toward our boring, everyday suburban sprawl, the mansions in the rearview mirror. Next to me, Caro’s eyes were closed and she was propped up against the window.
“I’m fine,” he said. The window was open a little, making his hair dance across his forehead. “You can move closer if you want,” he added, gesturing to Caro’s feet. “You could get hurt.”
I curled up next to him, my knees tucked into my chest and my head against his shoulder. “For safety’s sake,” I said, and felt him smile against my hair as he wrapped his arm around me. The streets were empty and we watched as the buildings and houses flew past us.
I had Jessica pull up a few blocks away from our houses so she could let Oliver out. I was pretty sure my parents were asleep, but I didn’t want to risk being seen. “Sorry,” I said again to him. “Curbside service next time.”
“Byyyyyye, Oliver,” Caro said from the backseat. “Did you have a nice time? I hope you had a nice time.”
“Caro,” he said, “this was the best party I’ve ever been to in my life.”
It was the only party he’d ever been to in his life. And I was the only one who knew it. I looked away to hide my smile.
“Text me later?” he asked me.
“Okay,” I said. “Sleep well.”
“Yeah. You too.”
He didn’t shut the door, though. “Bye,” he said.
“See you later.”
“Okay.” He slammed the door and I rolled down the window so I could lean out. I could hear Jessica’s annoyed sigh, but I ignored her.
“Get home safely,” I told him.
“Yeah, sure.” He smiled back. “Hey, um, this might not be the best time to say this . . .”
My heart plummeted. “Okay?”
He tapped his fist against the car door a few times, then looked at me. “I’m glad you never moved.”
It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me.
“Well, I’m glad you finally came back,” I said, and when we finally drove away, he never moved from under the streetlight, his image growing smaller and smaller until I couldn’t see him anymore.
But I knew he was still there.
Back at Caro’s, her brother David was playing Mortal Kombat and didn’t even acknowledge us as Caro and I came in through the front door and started up the stairs.
“Shh, my parents are sleeping,” she whispered, but we all knew that Caro’s parents slept like the dead. (To be fair, they had six kids. They were probably exhausted.) My parents, on the other hand, slept like nervous birds. I once got up to use the bathroom and came out to find both of them in the hallway, my mom behind my dad, each of them clutching one of my mom’s high heels.
“What are you doing?” I cried.
“We thought you were an intruder!” my mom yelled as my dad flipped on the light.
“An intruder who breaks into the house and then stops to use the bathroom?”
That was just one example of why sneaking into or out of my house was not an option. I don’t want to get impaled with an Easy Spirit pump. I don’t know how I plan on dying, but it’s not going to be like that.
Caro and I took turns in the bathroom and she loaned me some clean pajamas. “You’re like a paper doll,” she giggled as I came into the bedroom. Heather’s side was still empty. Either that, or she was just asleep under the clothing explosion and it was impossible to see her through the debris.
“I’m like a what?” I said.
“You keep borrowing my clothes.”
“Well, yours are all nice and clean. Scoot over.”
Caro turned off the light as I climbed into her bed. Sleeping over at Caro’s always meant a foot kicking me in the arm or a hand draped over my face. Back when Caro had her cat, Mr. Pickles, he used to sleep on top of my head, only he’d eventually slide down so that I’d wake up and find myself being smothered by a ten-year-old cat who had no interest in moving.