The Nightworld - Jack Blaine [8]
Donny keeps grinning and brandishes a bottle. “I sure did. Want to show me that game now, Lara?” He holds up another bottle he’s been hiding behind his back.
“Oh, Donny, I forgot.” Lara looks at me, an apology of some sort in her eyes. “I told Donny I’d show him Brian’s newest Wii game. Maybe,” she says to me in a lower tone, “we can meet up later.” Then she’s heading toward Donny, and I’m standing there alone.
Chapter 5
Almost as soon as Lara and Donny disappear through the open door back into the apartment, Charlie pops out onto the balcony. He must have been lurking around, waiting to see how things went between me and Lara.
“I tried to keep Donny busy, but he’s one focused guy.”
“Oh, yeah?” I wait for the scoop.
“Yeah. I saw him sniffing around in there; he couldn’t figure out where she got to, and then when he saw her out here with you, he headed straight for the door. I managed to block him for a few minutes, talking about how cool all his football moves were this year, but even that didn’t hold him off for long.”
Figures. Any other time, if you mentioned football to Donny, he’d be happy to keep you entertained for hours detailing his greatest plays. “Well, thanks for trying.”
Charlie nods. “Some place, huh?”
“Wild.” I wonder what it’s like to come home to this view every day. Or to just sit around watching reruns or whatever on that huge flat screen in the living room. I can’t really imagine inviting Lara over to watch TV on our thirty-six-inch Panasonic.
“Want to go check out the rest of the place?” Charlie holds up his empty bottle. “I need another beer anyway.”
“Yeah, might as well.”
We go back inside and grab a couple more beers. I see lots of people from our class. Over in the corner a couple of guys—the class president, Mark Johnson, and his ever-present sidekick, Greg somebody—are geeking out about the weather.
“. . . tornado. Or maybe it’s just an early manifestation of the changes we’re going to see from global warming. Or it could even—”
“What are you guys talking about?” Charlie butts into the conversation.
Ben nods a greeting at both of us. “Have you taken a look at the sky lately?” His voice is all dramatic, like he’s announcing a national disaster or something.
“I have seen the sky,” booms Charlie, doing his best James Earl Jones. “A storm is coming.”
Ben makes a face. “Ha. Ha. Not. Greg thinks it’s just storm clouds too, but I’m telling you, those are no ordinary clouds.”
Greg swirls a finger next to his ear and nods toward Ben. “He’s crazy.” He shrugs. “It’s just one of those summer thunderstorms. Hey, are you guys . . .”
He trails off, because Lisa Cassity is walking by us. She’s dressed in even tighter jeans than she wears at school. Her lipstick is flaming red, and she’s giggling into Jason Ono’s ear while he drapes his arm around her like she’s the smooth leather back of the passenger seat in the slickest Mustang convertible ever and he’s in the driver’s seat, ready to hit the road.
Not my type, so much, but the sight of her butt in those jeans deserves a moment of silence from us all. Once she’s passed, Greg swallows and continues. “Are you guys going to try out for any teams next year?”
Charlie and I shake our heads while Ben nods his. We all jump when we hear a crash in the kitchen.
I hop up and head in the direction of the noise. When I round the corner of the huge kitchen island, I see a girl sprawled on the floor, one leg folded back behind her at a weird angle. She obviously had too much of something. Her friends are standing around laughing, as though she’s the funniest sight they’ve ever seen. Not a single person has offered to help her.
“You okay?” I squat down and take a closer look at her leg. I don’t like the looks of it. I hope it’s not broken.
“Fine.” She’s got a pretty good slur going. “Pull me up.”
I take hold of the hand she’s reaching out and tug, hoping the leg will hold her. It does, so she must just be drunk enough that she’s extra flexible and