Near Touch

Chapter 18: Hellrose

In all her calculations for the night, Amy had overlooked a simple factor – when alcohol saturated enough bloodstreams, a teenage universe exploded.

One minute she was gripping the balustrade of a viewing gallery outside the nursery, trying to get her bearings, watching as Caleb sprinted down the staircase after his defeated sister – amidst perplexed, faltering partygoers – and the next she was being whisked for a round of Beirut by a rambunctious Kristine; with Ashton and Robin in tow.

Amy risked whiplash.

As she was dragged by the sleeves, Amy saw Cecile Presley and Pete Ford in the living space below, arguing in front of a towering bookcase. Their faces were almost too close; bodies poised defensively.

Amy had found her prime suspects.

"... two reracks, of course! Robin and I versus the one true pairing – Amy and Ashton!" Kristine said, planting Amy next to Ashton near the ping pong table, and snaking her tanned arms around Robin. In a little black dress and nameplate necklace, onyx hair slicked back with a stretch-comb headband, Kristine looked like a merry mamba with a rather skinny mouse.

Ashton's cool, citrus comfort teased Amy as he leaned over for the ball. "As if there can be any other," he said, smirking at her flustered face. Ashton kissed the ball before expertly landing the first point with a flourish. "Raindrop!"

Robin chugged the red plastic cup of beer with a groan.

Amy needed to get her head back in the game. The night wasn't over yet and she had to question Cecile Presley without raising too much suspicion. The mask that had slipped in the smokey air of the nursery would have to be readjusted.

Although no matter how high she laughed or low she stooped, Amy couldn't concentrate on anything. The room was spinning by the time the game ended and she was half human and half beer keg.

When Gemma insisted on recreating their epic singalongs, Amy didn't have enough heart to protest. Just as they were arguing about song choices, Caleb entered the karaoke room, and Amy's vision tunneled.

Holding onto himself, Caleb rested against the graffitied soundproof wall that glowed fluorescent in the blacklight. Angelic neon feathers sprouted from his back but the letter lighting above him spelled otherwise – 'T.R.O.U.B.L.E'.

Amy began to sing, "Hey, hey, you, you!

I don't like your girlfriend.

No way, no way!

I think you need a new one."

Gemma carried it way more energetically than any one of the half-dazed people in the audience cared for. What they lacked in a singing voice, they made up for in enthusiasm. 

Caleb gave her a small, cryptic smile and somehow, Amy knew that he was alright.

When the lyrics projected behind her transitioned to a close, Amy realized that she was getting better at recognizing his tells after all. The buzz in her system felt pleasant.

"Emma called a cab and went home," Caleb told her as they exited the dark room into the hallway.

Amy held her phone close to her ear. "I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw her sitting there."

"Things at home are not ideal. Mom is practically starving herself with worry and it's making Emma anxious." Caleb gave her a serious look. "We need to act smart and we need to do it now. You heard what Harriett said about the church right?"