Exposure by Kim Askew Read Free Book Online Page B

disgust with me as we merged onto the highway that led out of town. The ride was strained, to say the least, and her occasional grimaces in my direction were reminiscent of a teenage Medusa. She used every opportunity to blatantly caress Craig’s leg or entwine her manicured fingers in his hair while giving me tight-lipped smiles that seemed to say, “Jealous much?” She even rolled down her window completely to blast me with arctic air while she tapped the ash of her cigarette into the wind.
    â€œOh, is that too much air for you, honey?” she said, when she saw my now-knotted red hair plastered against my face. “I didn’t want to bother you with my smoke.”
    Turning onto a winding rural road, we careened over icy patches as the outline of snow-covered trees, illuminated by the headlights, narrowed in on us. I could swear I saw the glowing eyes of some forest creature — a moose no doubt, or perhaps some enormous she-wolf — peering at us ominously from the depths of the forest. Whether inside or outside the car, I was not in safe territory. When we reached the end of a long sloped driveway, my relief at having finally arrived was short-lived. A warm, but not welcoming, bonfire raged in front of the cabin. Every window of the old domicile was lit up, and the silhouettes of drunken seventeen-year-olds made me sigh in trepidation. These people obviously didn’t have a care in the world. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what that must have felt like.

CHAPTER SIX
That Which Hath Made Them Drunk Hath Made Me Bold
    TYPICALLY I’D ONLY OVERHEARD TALES of the epic parties held here as they were retold during hasty Monday morning postmortems. Details would emerge in hushed tones at the back of the rancid-smelling senior study hall presided over by an overscrupulous and ancient guidance counselor, Mr. Kirkpatrick, who still threw around words like
skullduggery
as if they were part of your average twenty-first-century teen’s lexicon. Now, I’d actually stepped over the threshold and into the crème de la crème of East Anchorage High’s party central.
    All was confusion and noise as my eyes adjusted to the room; that too-familiar feeling of panic rose and I knew instantly that my skin was probably the crimson shade of a boiled lobster. Luckily it was too dark inside for anyone to see much, and anyway, everyone was apparently utterly bewitched by über-couple Craig and Beth whose big entrance preceded my inconsequential one. Damn, you’d think they were royalty or something the way everyone seemed to bow and curtsey in their presence.
    My first thought was that even though I’d only ever heard the place called a “shack,” it was really a sprawling conglomeration of rooms that branched off from what had evidently been the original homestead. I didn’t know how many rooms there were, but at least three doors led away from the small shack into other parts of the structure that, judging from what I could see, must have been added on in different decades. Scattered throughout were abandoned pieces of furniture. Here a stained couch gradually losing its stuffing, there a rickety table and stool. Empty, it would make an excellent spot for a photo shoot. A beer can flew across the room, landing on a pile in the corner.
    â€œHey,” someone in the crowd joked, “better recycle that or Jenna will have your ass!”
    â€œCraig!” Duncan waved from a corner of the room looking more brawny and barrel-chested than ever. I tried to act nonchalant as I shadowed Craig and Beth over to where Duncan stood surrounded by a rapt group of freshmen and sophomores, including the vapidly pretty Tiffany Towers, his girlfriend-of-the-month and the police chief’s daughter.
    â€œNo paparazzi allowed.” Duncan flashed a quick smile to let me know he was joking, but when he glanced at Beth, his smile faded.
    Under her breath, Beth hissed, “Skye,