Chapter 145: Bestie Night In
I spent a frustrating hour or so on Alison's computer trying alternate forms of search and still turned up nada.
I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. Demetrius did a great job of hiding their tracks in the real world, so it was logical the virtual one wasn't much different. And let's face it, I was no hacker with the ability to figure this out on my own. I'd already been searching for weeks, hoping a convenient homepage would suddenly pop up. Clearly I was just wasting my time.
Thunder rumbled in the distance for the rest of the night, jerking me out of sleep every time. By the time the sun came up, I was cranky and exhausted, not to mention worried about Alison and how leaving the party might affect our friendship. Talk about awkward if she wasn't talking to me for the rest of the visit.
I needn't have worried. She bounded into my room at around eight, as perky as ever and grinning her face off. I wondered how she managed it. From what I saw she had a lot to drink. Meanwhile, I felt like total crap. Shouldn't it have been the other way around?
Still, I was grateful if a little annoyed she pretended like nothing happened.
The storm had moved off or broken up near dawn. I could only imagine my mom and the coven somehow wrangled the Wild back to sleep again, if only for a little while. The world was still in one piece at least. I tried calling, but no one answered at home. Quaid wasn't returning my texts, either. That left me without any information and in a very bad mood.
Good thing Alison wasn't about to let that stop us from having a great time.
She kept me so busy all day I actually started to forget what was going on back home and had some fun. Between horseback riding, trying my hand at water skiing behind the Morgan's speedboat and practically passing out on the stretch of dock from sheer exhaustion, I barely had time to feel sorry for myself or worry about anything.
I had a moment of concern when Gwen and Regan showed up in their boat, asking us to join them for a cruise around the lake, but Alison brushed them off like she hardly knew them and they quickly left.
I flashed Regan the finger when he winked at me and actually laughed at the startled look on his face.
Alison giggled next to me. "What was that all about?"
I shrugged. "Maybe now he'll take no for an answer."
She sat up, a horrified look on her face. "He didn't touch you?"
Crap. Oops. "It's okay," I said. "I took care of it."
She scowled at the departing boat. "Jerk. That's it, he's cut off." She grinned at me. "Besides, this weekend is about me and my bestie." She settled next to me again while I lay there with a dumb grin on my face.
At least someone wanted me around.
Alison wasn't much for lazing by the dock. After about an hour she dragged me around the grounds, showing me the extensive garden and the old tree house her parents built for her when she was little. It was huge and elaborate, with staircases and multiple rooms, big enough for me to live in, practically, if the ceilings hadn't been so low.
Next came a tour of the main house, room after room of perfection and artwork, pretentious furniture and collections of the rare and near priceless. Alison spent most of the tour alternating between giggling and joking about everything and scowling like it all personally offended her.
We finally ended up in the main living room just as Mrs. Morgan was hanging up the phone.
"Ah, there you are, girls." She offered one of her fake smiles. She looked so polished, like it was first thing in the morning for her, and I realized I hadn't seen her all day. "Who was that?" Alison planted herself sideways on a frail and expensive looking sofa while her mother frowned at her. Tried to frown at her. There was so much of nothing going on in the way of movement under her skin, her displeasure really only registered in her eyes.
"Feet down, please." Alison complied if slowly. "Your father."
My friend was on her feet, beaming and bouncing on her toes. "What time is he coming?"
Mrs. Morgan's full lips could pout at least. "He says he's sorry, pumpkin. Work."
I wished I could do or say something to help Alison. She looked so hurt. But she only showed it for a moment.
"And I'm off as well." She checked her gold watch sparkling with so many diamonds it was hard to look at it straight on. "Ladies night. You two can keep each other amused, I'm assuming?"
She floated out without another look at us, the scent of her expensive perfume all that remained and I wished it would just go away too.
Alison stood frozen, eyes locked on nothing, her whole body tense. I approached her, slid my hand into hers. She squeezed hard, looking up at me suddenly with a smile like nothing happened.
"Cool," she said. "Run of the house. How about movies and junk food?"
Clouds were gathering again by the time we climbed into our pajamas and sprawled in the media room. I reclined back in the custom made theatre seat, loving the leather footrest and the extra thick padding, not to mention the cup and bowl holders on either arm. We sighed our way through a romance then squealed ourselves hoarse during the latest horror movie.
We both screamed for real when a massive bang shook the house, knocking the power out. I clutched my chest with both hands, heart racing as the electricity came back on.
"What was that?" Alison's eyes shone huge as she giggled.
I knew. And it shattered my mood completely. We got up together, went out into the hall and down to the end to the big window looking over the lake.
Rain gushed against the glass as a flash of light lit up the back garden followed almost instantly by a jarring roll of thunder. The power flickered again, but didn't leave us this time.
"Wow," Alison breathed. "So cool."
I wished I could enjoy the storm for the beauty of it. All it did was make me anxious. I had to go home! But I couldn't. I wasn't allowed, not to mention the fact there was still nothing I could do to help.
"I guess," I said, turning away from the window. It felt like I was turning my back on my family.
Rosetta stood at the end of the hall near the stairs, glaring at me. I saw her make another of her protection gestures and the sight of it instantly infuriated me. First of all, there was no way she could know who I was and second, I wasn't even a witch anymore.
Alison must have sensed my displeasure because she turned and spotted the maid.
"Rosetta!" Her voice was as sharp as Mrs. Morgan's.
The little maid scurried off downstairs and out of sight.
We ended up in Alison's room as the sky grew dark with more than just sunset. The clouds thickened, the rain coming harder and louder. I huddled next to her on her giant bed, feeling the weight of the storm on my chest, threatening me, making it hard to breathe.
"I wanted to thank you," Alison said, eyes locked on the rain on her window. "For being patient with Mom."
Mrs. Morgan was the furthest person from my thoughts. "She's okay," I said. Lame.
Alison dimpled at me. "Yeah, right." She giggled a little. "Sure." She twisted around and shoved aside two pillows, digging between her mattress and headboard for a moment. When she turned to face me, she had a bottle of vodka in her hand.
"Thirsty?" She didn't bother to wait for my answer, just unscrewed the top and helped herself right from the bottle. It wasn't exactly full, either, only about half its contents sloshing around inside.
"No thanks." Okay, now I worried about her, too. Alison was hiding alcohol in her room? "I thought maybe you'd had enough last night." I hated judging her, but really, when she kept a bottle so she could drink when she was alone... bad sign.
Alison rolled her eyes. "I'm just having some fun, Syd. Lighten up."
I was pretty sure Mrs. Morgan was an alcoholic and hoped Alison wasn't heading down the same road. But she was right about one thing, even if she just implied it. It wasn't any of my business.
It didn't take long before her cheeks flushed and she started giggling. "So, Regan was a total jerk last night?"
I shrugged, hugging a pillow, not really wanting to think about the fear I felt. "It was fine," I said. "He was just really drunk." Not that she'd get the hint or anything.
Nope. She didn't.
"Not all guys are jerks." She sighed and took another swig. "Like Quaid. I bet he's so sweet once you get to know him."
I choked on a breath and wished she hadn't gone there. I'd almost forgotten she was interested in him. Damn.
"I guess." Now what?
"Yeah," Alison said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, "with that voice of his, yum. I love how it sounds, you know? So deep and rough. And his hands... have you looked at his hands? He has the best hands." She was definitely getting tipsy if not drunk. "His eyes!" She shot up straight, hugging the bottle like it was a teddy bear. "I could drown in them, you know?"
I did know. Had very personal experience with it, as a matter of fact. The timing was terrible, but maybe I should tell her after all. The last thing Alison needed in her life was another let down.
"Yeah," I said. "I know." Her blue eyes locked on mine.
"You do?" She slumped, bottle dropping, mouth open. "Wow, I thought you guys hated each other."
I shook my head. "Not exactly." I squirmed, uncomfortable with the look she gave me. Like awareness spreading through the haze of her mind.
"I told you I liked him." Alison's lips tightened into a scowl. "You knew."
I really didn't want to have this conversation with her. I could tell where it was going and how awful it was about to get. I started to get up as I said, "I'm going to go to bed," but she grabbed me so hard her nails dug into my skin.
"Don't you dare steal my boyfriend." Yup, she was drunk. I tried to pry her fingers from my wrist as she went on. "You're my best friend." She downed another gulp of vodka, the bottle now pretty much empty. She swung it toward me as she talked, gesturing with it, forcing me to dodge back so it didn't hit me in the face. "Best friends don't steal each other's boyfriends."
"He's not your boyfriend." My anger rose without my consent. I struggled to control it as the storm outside intensified and rattled the window with another clap of thunder. "Let me go."
Alison jerked me closer instead. "Don't touch him," she snarled like an animal, hate in her eyes, so much it felt like a slap across the face.
I pulled free, the strength of my exit yanking her forward so she sprawled on her face into the pile of pillows.
"You might want to sober up," I snapped. "Then we'll talk about it."
She called me some pretty awful names as I turned and left, pulling her door closed behind me. I leaned my back against it and sighed.
She was way more messed up than I ever knew and I wasn't sure if I could handle it.
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