She ran into the main tent and looked around; she at least owed Andrew an apology. The whole place was lit by candles, however, so it was hard to find anyone. She could just make out Noel and the Quaker school girl on the dance floor, sneaking drinks out of Noel’s flask. Naomi Zeigler and James Freed were now onstage, singing some Avril Lavigne song Spencer couldn’t stand. Mason Byers and Devon Arliss leaned in to kiss. Kirsten Cullen and Bethany Wells whispered in the corner.
“Andrew?” she called.
Then Spencer noticed Emily across the room. She wore a strapless pink dress and had a pink pashmina thrown over her shoulders. Spencer took a few steps toward her, but then noticed her date standing next to her, his hand on her arm. Just as Spencer squinted to get a better look, the guy turned his head and noticed her. He had dark, denim-blue eyes, the same exact color they’d been in her dream.
Spencer gasped and stepped back.
I’ll show up when you least expect it.
It was Toby.
27
ARIA IS AVAILABLE BY PRESCRIPTION ONLY
Aria leaned against the Foxy bar and ordered a cup of black coffee. It was so crowded in this tent that the lining of her polka-dotted dress was already drenched with sweat. And she’d only been here for twenty minutes.
“Hey.” Her brother sidled up next to her. He wore the same gray suit he’d worn to the funeral and polished black shoes that belonged to Byron.
“Hey,” Aria squeaked, surprised. “I…I didn’t know you were coming.” By the time she’d gotten out of the shower to get ready for Foxy, the house was empty. In a moment’s confusion, she’d thought her family had abandoned her.
“Yeah. I came with…” Mike whirled around and pointed to a thin, pale girl Aria recognized from Noel Kahn’s party the week before. “Hot, huh?”
“Yeah.” Aria downed her coffee in three gulps and noticed that her hands were shaking. This was her fourth cup in an hour.
“So where’s Sean?” Mike asked. “That’s who you’re here with, right? Everyone’s talking about it.”
“They are?” Aria asked faintly.
“Yeah. You’re like the new It couple.”
Aria didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She could just picture some of the Rosewood Day girls gossiping about her and Sean. “I don’t know where he is.”
“Why? Did the It couple break up already?”
“No…” The truth was, Aria was sort of hiding from Sean.
Yesterday, after Meredith told Aria that she and Byron were in love, Aria had run back to Sean and burst into tears. Never in a gazillion years had she expected Meredith to say what she said. Now that Aria knew the truth, she felt helpless. Her family was doomed. For ten minutes, she’d wailed into Sean’s shoulder, What am I going to doooooo? Sean calmed her down enough to take her home and even walked her up to her room, put her into bed, and laid her favorite stuffed animal, Pigtunia, on the pillow beside her.
As soon as Sean left, Aria threw back the covers and paced. She peeked into the bedroom. Her mom was there, sleeping peacefully…alone. But Aria couldn’t wake her. When she woke up a few hours later, she went to her bedroom again, steeling herself to just do it, but this time, Byron was in bed beside Ella. He lay on his side, with his arm slung over Ella’s shoulder.
Now why would you cuddle, if you were in love with someone else?
In the morning, when Aria awoke from her one big hour of sleep, her eyes were puffy and her skin had broken out in little red bumps. She felt hungover, and as she ran over the night’s events, she crawled back under her duvet in shame. Sean had tucked her in. She’d blown snot on his shoulder. She’d wailed like an insane person. What better way to lose the guy you like than slobber all over him? When Sean picked her up for Foxy—amazing that he’d even shown up at all—he immediately wanted to talk about last night, but Aria shrugged him off, saying she felt much better. Sean looked at her sort of funny, but was smart enough not to ask questions. And now she was dodging him.
Mike leaned up against the wooden Foxy bar, bobbing his head when the DJ put on Franz Ferdinand. There was a self-satisfied little smile on his face—Aria knew he felt like the man for scoring a Foxy ticket, since he was only a sophomore. But she was his sister, and she could see pain and sadness underneath. It was like when they were little and hanging out at the community pool, and Mike’s friends were calling him a homo because he was wearing white swim trunks that had turned pinkish in the wash. Mike tried to take it like a man, but later, during adult swim, Aria caught him secretly crying by the baby pool.
She wanted to say something to make him feel better. About how she was sorry for what she was going to have to tell Ella—Aria was going to tell her mom that night when she got home, no excuses—and that none of this was his fault, and if their family fell apart, it would still be okay. Somehow.
But she knew what would happen if she tried. Mike would just run away.
Aria grabbed her coffee and strode away from the bar. She just needed to be moving. “Aria,” called a voice behind her. She turned. Sean was about six feet away, near one of the tables. He looked upset.
Panicked, Aria put her drink down and dashed toward the women’s bathroom. One of her chunky wedges slid right off her foot. Jamming it back on, she kept pushing forward, only to get stuck at a wall of kids. She tried to elbow her way through, but no one was moving.
“Hey.” Sean was right next to her.
“Oh,” Aria yelled over the music, trying to act nonchalant. “Hi.”
Sean took Aria by the arm and led her into the parking lot, which was the one place at Foxy that was empty. Sean retrieved his keys from the valet. He helped Aria into his car and drove to an empty spot farther down the driveway.
“What’s going on with you?” Sean demanded.