This Is How It Ends
Page 13“Yeah,” I agreed. “Wow.”
CHAPTER 6
I FIGURED NATALIE WOULD SKIP the Dash party after the scene at the mountain. She and Trip didn’t come back to the patio, but Sarah, Tannis, and I hung around, watching the rest of the race and letting the last of the mud dry on the parts we hadn’t cleaned yet.
Trip called about an hour later. Tannis and I didn’t bother trying to hide that we were listening, so Sarah just put him on speaker.
“. . . with me. We’re going to shower up here and head to the party a little later.”
Tannis raised her eyebrows.
“Does Nat need clothes?” Sarah asked. “I could bring her some.”
“No. She grabbed some when we dropped off her dad.”
“How is she?” Tannis asked.
Trip hesitated for a second. “Fine.” Which of course meant not fine at all but that she was sitting right there.
“You think there’s anything we can do?” Sarah said. “Is she okay to go tonight?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I think that’s the best thing. We’ll just all stick together, right?”
Sarah hung up, and she, Tannis, and I looked at one another, Tannis saying what was on all of our minds. “I wish she didn’t have to go home. Like, ever.”
“What a shitty way to live,” Sarah said tightly. “I can’t imagine why she puts up with it.”
“He’s her dad,” I said. “People are willing to forgive their parents a lot sometimes. At least as much as they blame them for.”
Sarah cocked her head, looking at me with a little smile. “That’s very philosophical, Ri,” she said. “And very true.”
After that, I took off for home and my second shower of the day.
***
The five of us walked into the party at John Peters’s house just after eight. Music was blaring on the deck that overlooked the town down in the valley. It seemed like half the crowd from the base lodge was already there. Inside, a bunch of Nat’s ski team friends were clustered around a table, playing a game with dice and poker chips. A couple of guys stood near the TV, watching football, while other people were playing darts and foosball.
Natalie was sandwiched between Trip and Tannis, looking like she half-hoped the floor might swallow her up. John Peters broke away from the other skiers and came over as soon as he saw her.
“Hey, Nat. Glad you made it. Nice Dash today.”
“Thanks, John.” She smiled wanly, waiting for the obvious questions about her dad. But John completely sidestepped it.
“My parents put in a hot tub this year, out on the deck. You guys want to come see?”
Tannis, Trip, and I watched them go out, John walking carefully beside Natalie, Sarah tagging along behind.
“Hey, Trip!” Galen Riddock came over and exchanged a fist bump with Trip, ignoring me and Tannis. “You bring any beverages?”
Trip shook his head. “No time. I had that thing with Nat’s dad—”
“Yeah, that was something, huh?” Galen shook his head. “That dude’s a f**king mess. Man, was Winston pissed. My dad said he ripped mountain security a new one. Couldn’t believe no one stopped Cleary before he got out there. I heard he fired the shift manager on the spot.”
“Jesus,” Trip said. “How could they have known?”
“I don’t think Winston really gave a shit,” Galen said. “Listen . . .” He leaned in closer to Trip. “You score anything when you were up there? You know, with Nat’s dad?”
Trip frowned. “You know I’m not into that stuff.”
“You’re no fun, Jones.”
“I’m lots of fun.”
Galen snorted. “Gonna be a different kind of party this year, I guess. Good, clean small-town fun, eh, Tripper?”
“Nothin’ wrong with that,” Trip said evenly.
We all knew the Dash after-party would be tamer, after last year’s had gotten out of hand. It had been at Marshall Blume’s farm a few miles outside town. His parents had been away, and pretty much everyone knew it. Lots of people showed up who weren’t friends with him or anyone else on the ski team. Lots of alcohol and drugs. Two weeks later some freshman had been found dead in her bedroom. An overdose. It hadn’t happened at the after-party, but word travels, and adults aren’t stupid. Between Marshall’s party and the girl’s death, they’d figured out there was a problem. Someone even went up and questioned Nat’s dad, but word had traveled to him too, and whatever usually went on up there was tucked away by the time the police showed up. There probably wouldn’t have been a party this year at all if John Peters’s dad hadn’t offered to host it. He was a town cop, and I’d already seen him talking with kids out on the deck, making sure everything stayed well under control.
“I’m going to see if I can get in on the game,” Tannis said, nodding toward the dice table. “You guys want to come?”
Trip shook his head. “Nah. I’m gonna go find Sarah and Nat. You coming, Ri?”
“Sure.”
We grabbed sodas and made our way through the crowd and out onto the deck. The Peterses lived one ridge over from the ski trails. Not prime real estate, since you couldn’t get to the slopes from there, but the view was pretty sweet. John’s dad had grown up in this house. It wasn’t big or done up like the trailside homes, but he was pretty handy and had built an addition and I guess saved enough for a hot tub. They had it running, underwater lights changing from blue to purple to green. It looked really cool. If it had been at Marshall Blume’s house last year, there would have been about twenty people in it by the end of the night, na**d or fully clothed. I was pretty sure the Peterses’ hot tub would stay empty, just there for decoration.
“Hey, loser.” Someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned to find Matty Gretowniak leaning against the railing.
“What are you doing here?” I said, still feeling the sting of his comments about the SATs but otherwise glad to see him. Most of the kids there were skiers or partiers or jocks. I was none of the above, and neither was he, as far as I knew.
“Having a Coke. Enjoying the view. You?”
“Trolling for chicks.”
Matty laughed. “Good luck with that. I came with my sister,” he admitted. “She’s on the ski team this year.”