According To Jane Part 21

I grinned into the darkness, the road winding in serpentine patterns now that I'd reached the outskirts of town. Yeah, that must be it. I'm the epitome of maturity.

That, Jane retorted with a sniff, I would NOT be inclined to say.

I stepped out of the car, slammed the door and marched toward Chad's expansive backyard-if that was what you'd call two-plus acres of rolling land. Laughter and loud music emanated across the night with an occasional howl to break up the redundancy.

"Hey, El!" a few drunk senior girls yelled. I waved to them.

"Grab a beer," someone else shouted, pointing to the fat keg on the patio.

I meandered over to it and filled a plastic cup half full of the flat, vile-tasting stuff. I took a single sip, so I could have its smell on my breath, and I tried not to shudder. I didn't like beer. I never had. But it was necessary to carry one around in order to appear appropriately sociable.

Over the next hour, more and more Glen Forest seniors filtered in to the party. Stacy Dasch.e.l.l stumbled into the yard, guzzling beer like a trout slurps water and, when she was sure she had an audience, started groping her best friend's older brother, who was home from college. I rolled my eyes and gossiped about her with Jane. Then Terrie arrived, along with Matt of course, and for a while the three of us chatted about nothing. Steve and Krista showed up, too, and so did Jason...on the arm of Princess Amy.

Terrie stared at them, then squinted at me. "Well, now, that's a new development."

"Good for him," I said back, almost meaning it. Sure, he could've and should've chosen someone with a smidgen of character, but he had Amy as his "sweet" date now, and she could keep him.

While Terrie and Matt refilled their beers, in between making out, and Amy was off babbling with a few other girls, Jason approached me.

"Hi, Ellie," he said.

"How are you doing?"

"Good, really good. Thanks. How are you?"

"Oh, great."

He glanced around. "Are you meeting anyone here?"

"Just my friends," I said, pointing in Terrie's direction.

"Lots of guys are coming here later, you know."

"Oh, that doesn't surprise me." I smiled at him. "Events with beer and without chaperones are traditionally popular."

"Yeah, but you-you're such a friendly person. You meet people easily, especially when there're lots of people to meet."

I didn't exactly agree with this but, since Di had left to go to college, social interactions at school had become less torturous. "Thanks," I told Jason.

"And Glen Forest's a real friendly place, too. I've always thought so, haven't you?"

He was losing me with his thought progression, but I was in the mood to be agreeable, so I said, "Sure."

"So many nice people in one spot," he added, then he studied his cuticles for a second. "Um, Ellie, about that-are you okay with me being here with Amy? I know we said we were just friends and could date whoever we wanted, but I don't want you to feel-"

"I'm fine with it, Jason. Really." I plastered an absolutely delighted grin on my face.

He exhaled hard and heavy. "Oh, good. I was a little worried, but you're really cool, you know that?"

I just nodded and kept grinning.

He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. A peck that hardly registered. "I'll never, ever forget prom night," he said with a seriousness that bordered on the comical.

"Me either," I a.s.sured him.

He flashed one last bright smile at me before bounding off to find his princess. Nice guy, despite his memory impairment and complete lack of lovemaking skills. Jane often likened him to her affable, albeit simplistic book character, Mr. Bingley, which, I supposed, wasn't too far off.

But where, oh, where was my hero? My Mr. Darcy? Not here, to be sure. Glancing around Chad's backyard, I spotted a handful of other Bingley types, the scary Mr. Collins replicas, and a bunch of pure bad-guy Wickhams but- "Are you still grumpy?" the voice of the Mr. Wickham I knew best said behind me.

"I am never grumpy, Sam. Although, occasionally, I'm rather irritated."

He elbowed my ribs as he came to stand beside me. "What's with the snooty language? 'I'm rather irritated...'" he mimicked. "Been reading all those highbrow British novels again?"

That boy is detestable, Jane remarked.

He, apparently, doesn't think too highly of you either, I replied to her. And your highbrow language is rubbing off on me.

Nonsense! she said.

"Nonsense." I slipped and said this aloud in imitation of her. Sam quirked a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Yeah, you have been," he said. "You really get into all that English lit c.r.a.p, don't you? But, hey, that's okay by me. It keeps you from being my compet.i.tion."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm planning on med school," he said, pride and a hint of worry in his voice. "So don't suddenly give up the English and decide to pursue science." He grinned a little. "I'm hoping my cla.s.smates will be a bunch of morons."

I chose to overlook the backhanded compliment and focus on Sam's professed career goals instead. I'd suspected his interest in medicine, but I hadn't gotten confirmation of it before that night. Certainly, his fascination with human anatomy was clear.

"So, that's what you're going to study?" I asked, knowing my love of literature would, indeed, keep me away from the sciences. "You're that sure you'll like it?"

"I'm that sure." He shrugged. "I still need to get through four years of undergrad bio stuff before applying but, yeah. There were a few things in life I knew right away. That was one of 'em."

Distracted by him, I took a sip of my beer before I realized it, then grimaced at its unrelenting bitterness. "Blah. I can't stand this stuff."

He gave me a speculative glance. "Well, I've got something else in my car."

"What?"

"C'mon." He tugged on my arm. "I'll show you."

I stood firm. "Sam Blaine, I won't be dragged into your car and plied with alcohol, never to be seen or heard from again."

He looked offended. "The h.e.l.l with you, Ellie. It's not like I'd drug you, attack you and then toss your body into a swamp. Get over yourself." He took several angry steps away from me.

"I-I-" I began. I didn't know why he always brought out this combative side of me but, this time at least, he didn't deserve an accusation like that. "Sorry," I said finally. "I didn't mean it that way."

He shot me a look, unsmiling. "That's okay. Listen, I have rum and c.o.ke. Come have some with me if you want. Skip it if you don't." He took another few steps away, but then he paused and turned back toward me. Waiting.

Ellie...Jane said, her tone heavy with warning.

I followed him.

Unlike my car, which was parked pretty much right outside Chad's front door, Sam's was a good block away from the house and from most of the other cars. But, with four minutes of brisk walking, we got to it fast.

As we slid into his parents' Oldsmobile, I couldn't get over the weirdness of the whole thing. Me and Sam. Sitting in a car. Drinking. Talking about our college plans. It was like a scene from a John Hughes teen flick. I glanced around but didn't see anybody filming.

"Give me your beer," Sam commanded.

I handed it over and watched as he dumped the disgusting liquid out the window. He flipped open a c.o.ke can and poured half of the soda into my plastic cup. Then he pulled out a small bottle of rum and added a generous amount to both my gla.s.s and into his half-full c.o.ke can. He handed the cup back to me.

"Cheers," he said. "Here's to finally graduating."

"If we survive finals next week," I added, clinking beverages with him.

We both drank. The sweet, syrupiness of the mixture was heaven after the beer, but beneath the sugared swirl of caffeine, an alcoholic bite lay in wait nonetheless.

After several swigs, I blurted, "You were really great onstage tonight. I didn't know you were planning to enter Air Band."

He shrugged but couldn't hide a grin. "A bunch of us decided to do it last week. We were fooling around but it was kinda fun."

"Oh. Well, nice job. I-I didn't see the very end, but I heard that the guys doing the Scorpions won it."

"Yep. They closed the show. They were awesome." Sam paused, his blue eyes burning into me. "Why'd you leave early?"

I gulped some air. "To get a good parking s.p.a.ce here, of course."

He nodded, but he didn't look like he believed me. And, since it was a total lie, he had good reason not to. I was reminded of something Jane told me once: "If a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavor to conceal it, he must find it out." I knew I'd let my guard down too much with Sam. That I was being too obvious. So I tried to relax, pull back, be cool.

He pointed to my almost-empty cup. "Want some more?"

"Sure."

He opened a new can of c.o.ke and fixed both of our drinks stronger this time. A half hour went by. Maybe an hour. I don't know how long we sat there, sipping, talking and eventually laughing. I felt lightheaded to the point of giddiness, but it wasn't from the rum.

Jane said, for probably the tenth time, You should leave.

But I shrugged her off and, instead, found myself talking with Sam about the chemistry II exam we had coming up on Monday.

"Stop worrying, Ellie. You're gonna ace it. You always do." He slanted a devious look my way. "And you can bet I will, too."

I smirked, feeling full of myself and of the confidence that alcoholic consumption brings. "If I were a betting girl, I wouldn't waste my time on such an easy wager."

His brows rose slowly and he leaned in close. "Really? And what would be one worth your time?"

I looked deep into his eyes. His pupils had dilated to huge dark orbs ringed by blue. He must be pretty buzzed if not actually drunk. I sighed and figured Jane was right and I should leave.

"I said if I were a betting girl, but I'm not one." My confidence slipped a notch. "Not by a long shot."

The edges of his lips curved upward. "Well, I'm a betting guy. And I've got a wager for you."

I blinked. Curiosity made me ask, "Really?"

"Really," Sam said.

Really foolish, Jane chimed in. It is long past time to return to the party, Ellie. This instant would be preferable. Say goodnight to the conniving Mr. Blaine.

No, Jane. I want to know.

As the saying goes, Jane began coolly, curiosity killed the- "Tell me, Sam," I said. "What would you bet?"

He gave me a long, hard stare. "Put the cup down, Ellie."

I put it down.

"Slide a little closer to me," he said.

I slid.

I saw him put his c.o.ke can on the floor. He swallowed. "I bet," he whispered, "we can't stay this close for two minutes before one of us makes a move."

I swallowed this time. "A move? You mean, on each other?"

He nodded.

"So, um, one hundred and twenty seconds." I glanced at my watch for emphasis. It had a second hand, but I couldn't read it. My entire arm was trembling.

He reached over and grabbed my wrist, twisting it a bit so he could check the time. It didn't hurt, but his very grasp made my skin tingle. "It's been thirty seconds," he said.

"What counts as a move, in your opinion?" The longer he held my arm, the less bold I felt. Breathing became a challenge, and my heart raced so fast I could no longer distinguish the beats.

"A touch that would be considered inappropriate in public." He eyed me archly. "Or a kiss, of course."

"Of course."

I could almost taste his rum-soaked lips on mine, and a thought that would've been inconceivable two hours ago hit me like a slap: I really wanted him. I wanted Sam Blaine.

In an instant I dismissed my old vow to avoid him and remembered in its place a different promise to myself. That this time I got to choose a lover. And I was going to choose him.

Dear heavens, no! Jane cried.

Sam bent my wrist again to read the watch. "Fifty seconds. You're really holding out, Barnett."

"You expected me to be overcome by your charm?" I gave a breezy laugh, a shallow, flirtatious trick for garnering male attention, but effective.

He blinked and put his mouth against my ear. "Yes."

I held still, but the tiny hairs covering my body jerked to attention.