stay outside,” I say, and Todd’s mouth kinks upward. Despite the craziness of the situation, I can’t help smiling at that look.
“Come scope out the yard!” Todd says, fumbling down the three front steps with a hand still at his back. Sierra looks to Jordan, who swats her butt and follows close behind his friend. I shuffle along, my feet brushing the grass beneath the linden tree standing as the only front lawn decoration.
The four of them each glance up as we pass the side of my house. The floating door embellished with purple trim. No stairs leading up to it, no handle. Just the door.
“Where does that go?” Jordan asks, turning around to me. His blond hair is drying and turning wavy, and he’s got on a gray shirt with a motorcycle logo.
Uh oh, a direct question. My mouth goes dry.
“Nowhere,” I say, and thankfully my tongue doesn’t stumble over the word. I force myself to look directly into his stupid blue eyes. “It doesn’t open.”
His forehead creases. “What’s the point of having a door if it doesn’t open?”
“Maybe it’s like your mouth, Jord,” Todd says, winking at me as he walks backward. “Some things are better shut.”
Jordan laughs, but it’s tense. He glances back up at the door and then to Sierra texting on her cell. Todd stands at least a foot taller than she does. He sweeps his leg to give her a playful sidekick. I take a step to join them, but Jordan shuffles, not letting me pass. Gulp.
Another car pulls up and Jordan gives me a weird look as if
I’m
the one who’s in his way. Then he strides past toward a tall blond guy I recognize as Jordan’s older brother stepping out of the driver’s side. He and Jordan exchange hoots of laughter, and then he hands Jordan two bluish-looking cardboard cases. I squint and realize what they are. Oh. So it’s going to be
that
kind of party.
Not that I’ve never drunk before. I’ve just, well, never drunk.
I wonder if Joel is seeing this. I’m pretty sure he won’t condone a bunch of underage kids drinking in his backyard. What if the police show up? Or the party gets too crazy? My dad would definitely have never allowed it. Then again, Dad would never have been okay with me having this many people over, period.
As if the house hears me, the windows rattle the way they would if they were loose and someone slammed all the doors at once. The twenty or so kids gathered in an uncomfortable clump in the grassy area of my backyard peer around, clearly wondering what the noise is. As if they’re waiting for someone to speak.
Okay. So since this is at my house, does that mean it’s my party? How do I act? I have no idea what to do.
“So we’re just going to stand around out here or what?” Kody Gold asks.
I should step forward. Say something cool.
“Uhh—”
“Aren’t we going to get to see inside?”
“Yeah, Piper, take us in!”
“My brother’s working,” is my lame-o reply.
“What’s with the secret passageways?”
“Yeah, come on!”
More noise ensues, with them all clucking like chickens about seeing my house. I should have known they’d want a tour or something. I can’t help but swim in the attention. For once I have something they like, something they want, and the territory is completely unexplored, for me. And I have to admit—it feels good.
“It is like, the most romantic place ever,” Cassie pipes in. “She’s got this wicked ceiling in her bedroom. It’s all painted and this dollhouse is like—”
“Did you guys see the roses?” I say loudly, cutting her off. After Cassie reaching for the basement door earlier, and the bungling exchange we had in there, she’s the last person I need elaborating on anything. I look for Todd, hoping he’ll pitch in and help me out of this, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Doggone it—this was
his
idea.
For a minute I consider giving in and showing them all around. Maybe letting them see only the main living area of the house—kitchen, parlor,