Blue Water by Ansay A. Manette

Author:Ansay, A. Manette [Ansay, A. Manette]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Psychological, Fiction, General
ISBN: 9780380732883
Google: CFL2lgEACAAJ
Publisher: Harpercollins
Published: 2006-04-11T07:00:00+00:00

I’d driven drunk only once before, for roughly half a mile, on the night of my sixteenth birthday. It was the end of May. It was closing on the end of the school year. Somebody’s grandparents had a summer cottage. Somebody decided we should all break in, throw a party there—who would ever know? Somehow the whole thing evolved into a birthday party, my birthday party. Sweet sixteen. Girls who’d never spoken to me before mouthed Happy Birthday as they passed in the halls; boys whispered, What do you want for your birthday? in low, delicious voices. Word of the party spread to kids as far away as Horton, and by the time Friday rolled around, you could feel the momentum building like a rogue wave, feeding on its own widening power. In the school parking lot, kids opened the trunks of their cars to reveal kegs, stacks of wine coolers. Somebody scaled the gymnasium wall and hung a shiny banner that proclaimed HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Somebody wrote HAPPY BIRTHDAY in whipped cream across the windshield of the principal’s car.

“I don’t like the idea of you driving alone,” my mother said. “I mean, honey, you only got your license today.”

She and my father had made it a point to be home for dinner that night. Toby had shown up as well. We’d ordered a pizza from the new Pizza Hut, which we ate at the dining room table, good cloth napkins draped across our knees. A yellow cake from the bakery. Neatly wrapped gifts, which my mother had chosen: a cardigan, earrings, a gift certificate for books and cassettes. Of course, she had to photograph me opening each one, Toby smirking in the background, making rabbit ears over my head. Everything had been perfect until I’d asked to borrow the car. At lunchtime, I’d walked downtown and passed my driver’s test. Now, as my mother gaped in surprise, I held out my newly minted license, a poker-faced player who reveals the winning hand.

“I won’t be alone,” I said. “I’m picking up Stacy.”

“At least,” Toby said, scooping frosting off my plate, “if you loan Meggie the car, you know she’ll be with a safe driver.”

“How can a fifteen-, excuse me, sixteen-year-old be a safe driver?”

“Beats me,” Toby said. “But she is.”

I looked at my plate, flushed, pleased. Toby, in fact, had taught me to drive, taking me out with my learner’s permit, making me parallel park, again and again, beside a stack of hay bales at the mill.

My mother sighed. “Where is it you and Stacy want to go?” she asked, resigned, and for a moment, I had a change of heart. Nowhere, I wanted to say. I was only kidding, Mom, relax. How easy it would be to skip the party altogether, stay home, watch the videos she’d rented for us all. But I said nothing. It was my sixteenth birthday. You couldn’t stay home on your sixteenth birthday, no matter how much you liked being with your family, especially when there was a party going on, the sort of party where everyone who was anyone planned to be.

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