A Midsummer's Nightmare by Kody Keplinger Read Free Book Online

seat belt had clicked before he even pulled out of the driveway. As if traveling those three extra feet without restraints might actually kill me or something. I didn’t expect someone who had one-night stands with strangers or threw crazy parties to have such a stick up his ass.
    I didn’t say anything on the way to the Nest. Bailey jabbered away at us from the backseat, speculating on the kind of music they’d play, what the other girls there might be wearing, how crowded the place might be. After a while, Nathan cranked up the radio as a subtle hint that she should quiet down. A hint that she, eventually, took.
    The silence didn’t last long, though. A minute later Nathan was singing along with the radio, tapping his fingers against the wheel to keep the beat. I couldn’t help watching, a momentfrom the party sliding into my memory. We’d been kissing in the armchair, amid the chaos of dancing and drinking, when Van Morrison’s “Brown Eyed Girl” started playing through the speakers.
    Nathan had pulled back a little, giving me a second to come up for air. He grinned at me and started singing along with the song—off-key, but he was pretty drunk by then, so I guess that was to be expected. I reached up and clapped a hand over his mouth, laughing. “Stop. You can’t sing at all.”
    Clumsily, he took hold of my wrist and eased it away from his lips. “I love this song, even if it is really old,” he slurred.
    “Me, too.”
    “Good, then it can be our song. You’re my brown-eyed girl.”
    “But my eyes are blue,” I told him.
    “I know. But there aren’t songs about blue eyes.”
    I started laughing harder and almost fell off Nathan’s lap. “Yes there are. ‘Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain,’ ‘Behind Blue Eyes,’ ‘The Bluest Eyes in Texas,’ and then there’s just ‘Blue Eyes’ by Elton John.”
    “Yeah?” he said. “Well, those suck.”
    “You suck.”
    And then we were kissing again. It couldn’t have been long after that that we migrated to the bedroom.
    Three days later, sitting in the car beside him, part of me wondered if it had really happened. He’d said that as far as he was concerned that night had never occurred, but couldhe really forget so easily? Probably not, but he acted like he could. He acted way better than I did.
    He parked the car in front of the small brick building and cut the engine. “Behold,” he said. “The Nest.”
    Honestly, the place looked kind of run-down, but the parking lot was packed with cars. Either it was actually a cool place (I kind of doubted it) or there was nothing better to do in this town.
    When Nathan pushed open the front door for Bailey and me, I knew it was definitely the second theory.
    First of all, the band blew. Though I admit I was impressed to see a band at all. The lead singer had zero talent, and the drummer had no rhythm whatsoever. It was just sickening, really. I knew people who had more musical ability than these guys when they were plastered. Myself included. And the sad excuse for a dance floor was half the size of the guest room at Dad’s new place. The walls were lined with booths, all packed with teenagers sipping on sodas or bobbing their heads to the music.
    “Wow,” I heard Bailey murmur, and I could tell she was overwhelmed—whether by how pathetic the place was or by the number of people, I wasn’t sure.
    “I’m thirsty,” Nathan said. “Let’s get drinks. What do you want, Whit?”
    “Nothing.” I was already walking away from them. “I’ll get it myself.”
    I’d decided early on that if I was going to track down some fun—i.e., boys and booze—I needed to ditch Nathanand Bailey. I couldn’t afford to have them cockblocking me tonight.
    After scanning the room once, I came to the conclusion that the selection of guys here sucked. I mean, they were average, I guess, but none of them were hot. Because of this, I was feeling a little disappointed when I made my second turn around the dance