Beyond Blonde by Teresa Toten Page B

pissed.” I swear he was growling. “Get them, and you, out of here. It gets worse. And stop calling me coach!”
    I tried to wrench my arm free. “Sorry,” I said, “assistant coach!” He gripped tighter. It felt like I was standing in front of a furnace. Thank God, I couldn’t blush. “And, I keep telling you, they’re not drunk! Kit, get down off that coffee table right now!”
    “Shophie’s right. We’re shober,” said Sarah just before she puked on his shoe.
    It was a small barf.
    More like a spit up, really.
    At least it got Kit off the coffee table. She was over in one bound opening up her little party purse. “I have a Kleenex. There!” She whipped out a tampon and started dabbing his shoe with it.
    Somehow I did not disintegrate. David still had me by thearm, though more gently now. He was chewing his cheek. Papa did that too. When he was trying not to laugh.
    “What in God’s name!” Finally, the Mounties had arrived. Madison was here. “Why is Kit mopping up your shoe with a tampon? Did she throw up? She threw up! Are they pissed? How could they be pissed? They’re pissed!” Sadly, this entire set of accusations was aimed directly at me.
    David burst out laughing. I could have killed her.
    “Oh yeah, well, where were you?” I demanded in a demanding type of whisper. “And it better be good.” I’ll show her. Two can play at this game. Why was I responsible for them? “Well?”
    “I was breaking up with Billy on the back deck.”
    “Oh, right, ‘courage hug.’”
    David let out a long slow whistle while Kit seized this opportunity to crumple over onto the floor and stay there.
    “They’re drunk!” Madison threw up her hands. “And you’re blushing!” Apparently, we were back to blaming me again. “I’ve never seen you blush!”
    “I don’t blush,” I reminded her.
    David turned me toward him. “Maybe not, little captain, but your cheeks are a very becoming shade of firehouse red.” He had two clear-as-day dimples when he smiled that way. I wanted to kick him.
    “I do not blush!”
    “Well you do now, and they’re plastered.” Madison tried to lift Kit and got nowhere.
    “No, no, no, no,” explained Sarah.
    George weaved over to us with a glass of water for Sarah.“No guff, man.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t get her loaded. All she had was one drink and we shared a brownie.”
    “Great brownies!” agreed Kit from the floor.
    Madison, David, and I looked at one another. “Hash brownies,” nodded David. “That’d do it.”
    Hash? Holy Moses. “Is this like permanent? Are they going to be okay?”
    “Not after I kill them for being terminally stupid,” said Madison.
    “They’ll be fine tomorrow,” David sighed. “But we better get them home.”
    “I got my wheels.” George tried to pull himself up to his full height, which was impressive, but he was still half a head below David.
    David turned to him. This could turn into a pissing contest. “You’re stoned, man. Chill out okay? I’ll bring ’em home.”
    George’s eyes narrowed. You could tell he didn’t want to leave Sarah. George was two years older, but David didn’t flinch. They stared at each other. Finally, George put his arm around a heavily listing Sarah. “I’ll help you get them to the car.”
    “We’re all staying at Madison’s tonight,” I offered.
    “Lucky me.” David winked. “One-stop shopping.”
    George and David somehow stuffed Sarah and Kit into the car, despite them both insisting on a slow dance out in the middle of the street. We put them on either side of Madison in the back, while I got in the front with David. Even in the dark, I could tell he found this whole episode enormously entertaining. I tried to keep my cringing and whinging invisible,but then they launched into a hash-brownie version of Frankie Valli’s “My Eyes Adored You.” Frankie Valli struggles with that song. It was excruciating. Even if David Walter never said anything about tonight, about any