Watch Me Disappear

trustworthy in their eyes. Plus, they have gotten used to me having a cell phone. They can reach me at any time and vice versa. They insist that if anything happens at the party to make me feel uncomfortable, I should call them and no matter what time they’ll come get me. My mom must have been watching lots of talk shows offering parenting advice to inspire her to make such a statement. I think the biggest reason they are willing to let me stay over is Paul. He has charmed them so thoroughly that they have utter faith that he would never do anything wrong.
    As we walk up to the door, Paul leans into me and gives me a playful shove. Whatever the kiss was, that shove is Paul telling me everything is the same as it has ever been.
     
    *          *          *
     
    Jessica’s parents are of the philosophy that if kids are going to drink, they may as well do it where someone can keep an eye on them. They greet us when we come in and take Paul’s keys. Then they send us down to the basement where the party is.
    Maura, Katherine, and Jessica are in one corner with some rather tough-looking guys, one of whom is apparently Maura’s date.
    “I can’t believe she’s hanging out with them,” Paul says, steering me toward the far side of the basement. “That guy, Jason, spent last year in juvie.”
    He looks like it. He’s a big guy, tall and muscular, and he has on low-slung jeans and a wife-beater. He has a tattoo on one shoulder and a goatee. He looks like he could be twenty-five. Maura is sitting on his lap and he has one hand resting on her upper thigh and one shamelessly on her boob. It’s hard not to stare.
    We walk through the basement into the garage where some of Paul’s friends are playing beer pong. They offer us a royal welcome and fill us in on the details of the semi. Paul brings me a soda and we stand around watching the game.
    “Maybe we should play,” Paul says, nudging me. “I bet we could take them all.”
    I am trying to think of a smart comeback when my phone rings. It’s Missy, and she is in hysterics. I can barely comprehend what she’s saying. Paul takes the phone and tries to calm her down. After a few minutes he hangs up. “Let’s go,” he says.
    “What?”
    “I told her we’d come get her.”
    “But you just gave your keys to Jessica’s parents,” I say, realizing that whatever is going on with Missy, and whatever happened an hour ago between me and Paul, this is Paul’s chance to be the knight in shining armor, riding to Missy’s rescue.
    He produces a spare set of keys from his pocket. “Always come prepared,” he says.
    He grabs my arm and leads me out the side door of the garage. His car is far enough to the side of the house that Jessica’s parents aren’t likely to notice our coming and going.
    “What did she say?” I ask. “I couldn’t understand anything.”
    “I couldn’t understand much either, but obviously she’s upset.”
    “Well, where is she?”
    “She’s at the Silver Lake Lodge.”
    We drive in silence. It takes almost an hour to get there. From the parking lot, we can hear the party going on in the rooms at the end of the building. Missy comes out as soon as we drive up. She must have been watching for us in the window.
    “Lizzie, why don’t you let Missy sit up front,” Paul says, as he parks the car.
    I just look at him in disbelief.
    “She’s upset. She shouldn’t sit in the back all alone,” he says.
    Paul stays in the car while I get out and meet Missy. I put an arm around her and she starts crying again.
    “He just kept calling me the ice princess,” she says between shuddering breaths as we head back into town.
    I am having a hard time understanding why exactly she is so upset. Wes and some of his friends arranged a bunch of rooms at this crappy motel so they could all party. Wes had gotten himself and Missy a room of their own, and she wouldn’t have sex with him, so he got mad. Somehow that doesn’t seem like a situation to warrant such hysteria. All that had actually happened was she stood her ground. It isn’t like Wes had assaulted her or something. She hadn’t suffered any physical harm. Sure, it seems that she and Wes are splitsville, but I just don’t feel terribly sympathetic. All I can feel is my own selfish disappointment. Now Missy will have Paul, and I will have nobody.
    “I just had to get out of there,” she says, blowing her nose.
    From my vantage point in the backseat, I see Paul put a