Freshman Year & Other Unnatural Disasters Read online

  NO. EFFING. WAY.

  I don’t want to make a scene in front of the doorman, who is glaring at us suspiciously already, so I grab Em’s hand and we go in through the same section of the revolving door. “How could you?” I hiss at her.

  “Come on, Kels! You can’t stay mad forever! She’s your friend! I know she wants to make up.”

  I pull Em to a corner of the lobby, glancing back outside, where Cass appears to be having a similar conversation with JoJo. “Em, I cannot believe you set me up to be ambushed! What did you think was going to happen? This is so awkward and horrible!”

  “I don’t know, I just thought … I hoped maybe, if you weren’t expecting …” Em looks at the floor miserably.

  Oh, Lord. I know she meant well, but this sucks. What am supposed to do? Go be the “bigger person”? I already tried that and it blew up in my face.

  “Look, don’t … don’t worry about it,” I tell Em. “It’ll be fine. Cass and I ignore each other at rehearsal every day and I’m sure we can do it here. This’ll be great practice for the cast party. Okay?”

  “Okay. I’m sorry. I just really want you guys to make up.”

  “I know. But next time, write a poem about it instead or something. Deal?”

  Cass and JoJo come over to us. Cass and I avoid looking at each other and say nothing. Great. Can I go home now?

  After getting past the scary doorman, the four of us head up to the twenty-sixth floor, where we can hear the party all the way down the hall. We go inside and there are a million people crammed into the apartment. Finding Lexi in this crowd might take all night.

  JoJo and Cass go in search of drinks while Em and I take a lap around the party. Whoever the host is, his parents have a sweet apartment (and hopefully a terrific maid service for tomorrow). A big spread with all kinds of snacks is laid out in the dining room, and there are linked speakers throughout the whole place with a great playlist going. Plus a truckload of alcohol, obviously. There are a ton of kids from my school here, but mostly older ones that I only know by sight.

  Em and I head into the kitchen, where we find Cass and JoJo doing Jell-O shots with some people I don’t know. JoJo holds one out to me while Em grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. I crack the plastic shot glass and down the Jell-O; when I look up, Cass is staring at me from the other side of the kitchen counter. We make eye contact for the first time in months, and I suddenly feel terribly sad. I think about how much fun we always had hanging out … before the tragic concert, anyway.

  I’m contemplating smiling at her, just as an experiment, when a bunch more people crowd into the kitchen, including Lexi.

  “Hey! You guys made it! I knew you’d cave, Kels,” she says excitedly, giving me a hug. When I pull away, Cass has already turned around, chattering to some guy. I grab another shot and head into the other room with Lexi.

  After an hour or so I’m pretty buzzed and sort of bored. It’s a fun party, but I’m just not really in a party mood. Lexi is with Robby, who is so obviously smitten with her it’s almost funny to watch him follow her around. Cassidy is still in the kitchen with Em, and JoJo seems to have disappeared. I decide to go check on the status of my eyeliner and start looking for a bathroom. I’m moseying down a random hallway when I hear a voice behind me.

  “Unless you want to check out a room full of golf stuff, you’re going the wrong way.”

  I turn around and come face-to-face with the hottest guy I’ve ever met in person. Ever. He’s got one of those really chiseled faces, kind of like Chace Crawford. He also has sparkly blue eyes that are a lot like Jordan’s. A painful stab of remembered love creeps into my thoughts, but I manage to fight it off.

  “That does sound fascinating, but I probably shouldn’t take in so much excitement this early in the night.” I hold out my hand. “I’m Kelsey Finkelstein, by the way.”

  My, my! Will you look who’s managing to have a coherent conversation with a hot guy? Amazing!

  “Yeah, it’s pretty wild. You should definitely hold off if you can.” He takes my hand and doesn’t really shake it, but sort of clasps it. “I’m Sam. You wanna check out the terrace?”

  “Sure, definitely,” I agree, and follow him through some more rooms to a big glassed-in terrace that wraps around the side of the building. There are a bunch of kids out here, just drinking beers and hanging out. It’s a beautiful clear night, and the view of the Hudson River from the terrace is amazing.

  Lexi and Robby are out here, too, so we pull up some chairs near them and Sam hands me a beer from a cooler full of ice. I take a swig and don’t even think it’s as gross as I usually do.

  I catch a whiff of pot and secretly hope no one offers me any. I just know I’d cough like an idiot if I tried it, and to be honest, I’m just not interested in smoking. Regardless, I feel so pathetically excited to be a freshman in the VIP section of an upperclassmen’s party. I am awesome!

  Okay, so I’m also kinda drunk. But still: AWESOME!

  “So, you girls play soccer, huh?” Sam asks me and Lexi, putting his arm around the back of my chair. He keeps making physical contact with me, but just barely, like brushing against my leg or my arm for one second and then pulling away. It’s so distracting I can hardly keep my mind on the conversation.

  “Yeah,” Lexi says, leaning against Robby. “It was … an interesting season.” She catches my eye and we both start giggling. Sam looks at Robby and shrugs, offering him another beer from the cooler at his feet.

  “Do you play any sports?” I ask. It turns out Sam goes to a different school way uptown, so while I’m sort of listening to him talk about lacrosse, mostly I’m calculating how long it would take me to get from my school to his school by subway if we had plans to meet up. Just in case, of course. It never hurts to be overly prepared for a romantic adventure.

  So far Robby has not said a single word. Not that I care, particularly, as every molecule in my being is focused on Sam, Sam, Sam.

  Sam is definitely the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.

  Sam has first-kiss-do-over written all over him.

  Sam could—

  I suddenly realize I actually have to go to the bathroom for real now—beer really goes right through you. I excuse myself, find the bathroom, and while I’m washing my hands, I have a mini fantasy that when I come out, Sam will be waiting for me by the door. And when I walk out … he’s actually there!

  He murmurs, “I was looking for you.” Oh my God, I can feel myself blushing. Thank God it’s so dark in here. “You know tonight is my birthday, right?” Sam goes on, tugging gently on a strand of my hair.

  “Ohhhh—wait, this is your party?”

  “Yep, I’m your host. With the most. Hey, you wanna see the rest of the apartment? My parents have some cool art and stuff.”

  “Okay,” I agree, following him out. Like I really care about art right now.

  We go down yet another hallway—how big is this apartment?—and Sam stops in front of a door, which he opens and leads me through. I realize we’re in his bedroom, which is completely dark except for some dim track lights. We’re totally alone, which I like … but also feel just the tiniest bit nervous about. I need to chill out, so I go to take another calming sip of my beer, but Sam puts his fingers around the neck of the bottle and pulls it down from my mouth. Then he’s moving in toward me and whispering, “You’re so cute, Kelsey Finkelstein.”

  I can’t believe he remembered my last name! I think, and then his lips come down on mine.

  Oh my God oh my God oh my—

  And it’s a really good kiss. Not like ridiculous Keith Mayhew at all. It’s soft at first, with limited tongue and some interesting lip action, then more ferocious and intense. He puts his hands in my hair and kisses my ears and my neck, and I get chills everywhere. Everywhere.

  After a long, delicious while he whispers, “We should go back to the party, huh?”

  “Yeah, definitely,” I sigh, but we kiss some more instead and then he laughs and I laug
h and it’s … amazing. I feel the prettiest I have ever felt in my entire life.

  He guides me over to sit on the bed, still kissing, and leans me back against the pillows. I feel so excited and romantic, and so what if I’m on a bed with a boy I’ve known for an hour? It’s just a bed. He’s just a boy. Sam slides his hand under my shirt and strokes my stomach and my rib cage, and then the side of my chest—like right along the edge of my bra. It’s very tingly and I definitely like it … even though I’m also thinking we’ve been in here awhile now and it’s kind of rude to ditch Em and JoJo for so long and maybe I should find them in case they’re looking for me.

  Then he starts grinding up against me with his hips and trying to slide his hand inside my bra, which I know I should be cool with because it isn’t a big deal, and part of me really wants to let him …

  But I’m sort of not cool with it. I mean, I’ve known him for about five seconds. And it’s only my second kiss ever. And I don’t want him to think I have any intention of going further than that, for sure. I pull away a little and whisper, “Can’t we just, um … kiss some more?”

  Sam whispers, “But you’re so sexy … and it is my birthday …” He has his other hand on the top button of my jeans now, fiddling with it.

  I sit up a little, easing him off me. “I know, and, um … but can’t we just slow down for a sec?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Uh … yes?”

  Sam takes his hand out from under my shirt and gives me a totally disgusted look that makes me want to die. “Maaaan, I knew I should’ve gone for your friend instead. I bet she’s not a prude.”

  Then he just gets up and leaves.

  31

  I fix my shirt and take a couple of deep breaths. I’m totally stunned. What the hell just happened? Am I really a prude, or is he a jerk? Does he hate me? Why do I care what he thinks? And what friend was he talking about, anyway?

  My face feels raw from Sam’s chin rubbing against mine, my throat is tight and constricted—tears again? Seriously? I just want to find my friends and get the hell out of this stupid party that I didn’t even want to come to in the first place.

  I really, really want to go home.

  I’m about to open the door to leave the bedroom when it opens from the other side. A couple enters the room, whispering intently. Well, that’s just perfect.

  I try to sneak around them and out the door, but there isn’t enough room, so we end up having a minor collision, which scares the girl half to death.

  “Sorry! I was just leaving,” I stammer, totally embarrassed. Great—now I’m a prude and a peeping Tom.

  “Wait a sec,” the guy says. “Kelsey, is that you? What are you doing in here?”

  I look up from the floor, where I had been politely directing my gaze, and discover that the couple is comprised of Ben the Paper Guy and a really pretty dark-haired girl with enough self-confidence to wear glasses in public—exactly the kind of ultra-modern specs I would love to wear but can’t pull off.

  Why, why did it have to be him?

  “I, um … Lexi invited me. So, I, uh …”

  “No, I meant what are you doing in Sam’s room, alone in the dark? Are you okay?” He’s looking at me without a trace of his usual irony, like he’s some kind of concerned big brother. Which makes me feel even worse.

  No, not really. But thanks for asking. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry to break up your, um—”

  “Ben, maybe we should go?” the girl says. She looks annoyed. I don’t blame her.

  He chuckles. “No, it’s cool. Kelsey, this is Valentina. Val, Kelsey is blah blah newspaper blah,” but I’m barely listening. It just occurred to me that Ben said “Sam’s room” before, which means he knows Sam well enough to know this is his room. Which means they will probably end up talking about this whole thing later and Sam will be like, “Oh my God, that little dork wouldn’t even let me feel her up!” And Ben will think I’m a baby and a loser—more than he already does—and I will perish from an acute case of humiliation. And not because of some dumb picture in a school paper this time, but because I actually am a huge loser who will never have a normal hookup and will be alone forever.

  “Listen, I’ve got to go, so, um, have fun.” I push past the two of them and shove through the crowded party, desperate to find my coat and my friends and not make eye contact with anyone. Em and JoJo are both MIA, and there’s no way I’m going back to the terrace to find Lexi—Sam might be out there. I just want to leave.

  I head back into the living room, and there’s Cassidy sitting on the couch with some guy. I’d rather do anything than talk to her at the moment, but I have to tell someone I’m leaving. So I go over to the couch and yell over the music, “I’m leaving, bye,” and turn before she can say anything back. I’ll just text Em and the others once I’m safely in a cab on my way home.

  But Cass grabs my arm and shouts, “Wait, are you okay?”

  “Like you care,” I snap back over my shoulder, wrenching out of her grasp. I have to get out of here this second. I untangle my coat from the pile on the floor and book out of the apartment as fast as I can.

  I’m waiting for the elevator, trying to keep the tears from coming while I’m still where anyone can see me, when Cassidy comes running into the hall, clutching her coat and purse.

  “Kelsey, what happened? You can’t just run off if something—”

  “Go away, Cassidy!” I pretend to be looking at my phone. Ugh, why won’t the elevator come?

  “Come on, I’m serious. What’s going on?”

  I spin around to face her. “Oh, so you’re talking to me now?”

  “Am I talking to you? Kelsey, I’m asking if you’re okay!” The elevator doors open and I dash inside. Cassidy follows me. Dammit. Why can’t she just leave me alone with my misery?

  “Cassidy, can you please not follow me right now? Nothing is wrong. I just want to go home,” I insist. “And you’re pretty much the last person I want to be with right now, anyway.” The elevator stops and some man gets in. Awesome. An audience.

  “First of all, I don’t believe you,” Cassidy stage-whispers as the man looks at the ceiling. “And second, I’m trying to help you. I didn’t start this fight, you know—you’re the one who was, like, mad at me for hooking up with Jordan when you never even went out with him or anything! That’s so unfair!”

  I cannot believe the Jordan showdown is finally happening and it’s in an elevator in front of a strange man on the newly upgraded worst night of my life. And since I’m still reeling from the Sam situation, I can barely even care about stupid Jordan at the moment. Also, the man is sweating. Like, a lot.

  I blurt out, “Cassidy, you knew I liked Jordan since forever. We talked about it a million times! Do you have any idea how I felt when I found out you were hooking up with him behind my back?!”

  “Kelsey, it doesn’t work that way—you can’t just claim a guy! And anyway, it’s not like I rubbed it in your face.”

  “You totally rubbed it in my face! What do you call—”

  “And then you were sooo happy to tell me about Lori Soler, weren’t you?”

  The elevator finally stops at the lobby and Cassidy stomps out. This time I follow her, leaving the sweaty guy behind me, shaking his head. I’m seriously pissed off, which is an excellent diversion from being devastated about the Sam thing. “I was telling you the truth!” I practically shout. The doorman looks over at us warily. I lower my voice but get right in her face. “I was trying to be a good friend even though you basically stole my dream guy, and you didn’t even listen. You said I was pathetic and stopped speaking to me!”

  The doorman has one eye on me as he says something into his walkie-talkie. I don’t even care, I’m so mad.

  “Cassidy, you’re supposed to be one of my best friends, but you treated me like some complete stranger you couldn’t care less about. You were a total bitch for no reason—you could’ve talked to me about it in the beginning instead of sneaking aro
und. And now what? You think you’re going to suddenly win a prize for friendship after months of not talking to me because you followed me out of a party when I told you to leave me alone? Well, sorry to disappoint you, but that’s not going to happen!”

  Cass opens her mouth like she’s going to say something, but then she shuts it. She looks at the floor. The doorman stares at his clipboard.

  Then Cass says quietly, “You’re right. I was a bitch, and I did go behind your back. I was just, like … I don’t know. I really liked him, too. And then I thought you were trying to get back at me with the Lori thing, and when I found out you were right about that … I felt like an idiot. And it was too late. But I’m really, really sorry. And I do want to make sure you’re okay. Okay? So … are you okay?”

  Cassidy looks all teary, and that makes the tears I’ve been holding back spring up to the surface. I sort of choke out, “No, I’m not okay. Can we get out of here?”

  I start crying really hard as Cassidy puts her arms around me, and she leads me outside to get a cab. Through my tears, I tell her I’m so sorry I didn’t find a way for us to talk sooner—I should have. She’s one of my besties, after all. Then I give her the rundown on the whole Sam thing and how stupid I feel.

  “This Sam guy sounds like a total d-bag, Kels,” Cass says firmly. “And don’t feel dumb. You told him to get off you and he acted like a jerk. He was trying to make you do stuff you didn’t want to, and that’s not okay.”

  She’s stroking my hair, which is very soothing, and I’m finding it much easier to breathe without choking on sobs. Which is good, because the cabdriver keeps looking at me in the rearview mirror warily, as if he thinks I’m going to puke. I stick my tongue out at him, which is incredibly immature and makes me feel a smidge better.

  She continues, “Guys think they can do whatever they want. You have to be, like—”

  “But didn’t you have sex with Jordan?”

  Oops. Well, I guess that’s out there now.

  Cass gasps—literally, her mouth drops wide open. “Kelsey, no. God, I mean, come on. Did you really think that? Does anyone else think that? I mean, we hooked up a lot. And I thought about it. But that is it. I can’t believe you thought that!”