Only the Good Die Young

Chapter 21.1

I lie beside Jesse, staring at the ceiling of the hotel room. Brown water stains mark the far corner. The cheap polyester duvet under my arms feels rough on my skin.

That was it?

"I still can't believe we got snowed in," he says, scratching his chin.

I nod, feeling the pillow scrunch underneath my scalp as I realize that we've only been finished for five minutes, and Jesse's already talking about the weather. The last person I lay beside in a bed was Mom, because before Bill came along we were too broke to afford a second mattress.

It didn't hurt, but it didn't exactly feel good, either. Maybe it's an acquired taste.

I see a red 1:12on the clock next to me.

"I have to get back to my room." I slip naked from between the sheets and pick my clothes off the floor. These pants are mine, those socks are his, this bra is mine. I pull my shirt on and reach for my yellow jacket, suddenly feeling exposed.

"That's mine," says Jesse.

"Right, sorry," I say. I pick up the other jacket, identical except for size, and slip my arms through its sleeves.

"You don't have to leave," he says.

I dress faster than I ever have in my life. I feel an overwhelming need to get out of this room.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he says.

"Sure," I say.

I open the door and stick my head into the hallway. There's no one around. Every hallway in this hotel looks exactly like all the other ones, and it's not until I hear the elevator chime that I'm able to orient myself. I turn to see the elevator doors slide open.

Kyle steps out, holding his iPod. He looks at me, blinks, and removes his headphones from his ears.

"Rebecca," he says, "what are you doing here? I looked all over for you."

"Uh, nothing," I say. I study the carpet. It's an ugly squared pattern of beige and dark brown. "What are you doing up?"

"Can't sleep. Thought I'd go for a walk." He looks at me, then looks at the door I've clearly just come through. "Hey, whose room is that?" he says.

I try to come up with a lie but my mind is blank. I can still feel him on top of me. "Uh, Jesse's," I say. "I couldn't sleep either. I need to get to bed."

Kyle looks concerned. "I have a song called Lullaby for an Anxious Child if it'll help."

I step into the elevator as he leaves. "Never mind. I'll see you tomorrow." The button with a circular 2 lights up beneath my finger.

"Hey, Rebecca," calls Kyle, cut off as the doors close, "your shirt's on inside – "

I find my room and slide the keycard in as slowly as possible. The light on the electronic lock turns green and I open the door like a cat burglar, an inch at a time.

The lights are out and Annie and Megan are asleep. I slink into the washroom, close the door silently and wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Then I flip on the light and turn on the shower. For the second time in one night, I'm standing naked in a hotel room. I wash myself in the shower as quietly as I can, trying to get rid of his scent. I towel myself off, turn off the lights and slip under the covers.

* * *

The next morning I'm the last person to board the bus because I intentionally left our room with a minute to spare. I feel there's a huge flashing neon light over my head that reads Had Sex Last Night. The only question is who can see it.

I expect the entire band to point and stare, or look with eyes that can see inside me. Will Jesse be waiting for me beside a free seat? Will Alex tackle me in the aisle and pull out fistfuls of my hair? Will Mr. McKinnon phone my mother?

My feet tremble as I climb. I take a deep breath as I ascend the final step and stand at the front.

I spot Jesse instantly in the sea of faces. He's in a window seat near the front...

...and Alex is sitting next to him. Their heads are tilted together, like a pair of lovebirds.

Did last night never happen?

I walk down the aisle and sit in an empty seat near the back. Jesse gives me a wink as I pass him. I stare out the window and look at the tourists walking up and down Whistler's main road as they prepare for a day on the hills.

He gets my virginity and I get a wink?

Mr. McKinnon makes an announcement that I don't hear, and soon the bus is back on the highway. Cars adorned with ski racks drive up the mountain.

Were my reasons for sleeping with Jesse what people call "extenuating circumstances" or was this just something a dumb girl did? I can't say the alcohol made me do it. Yes, I felt different and free and loose and, yes, I woke up with a headache, but that didn't make me sleep with him. I made myself sleep with him.

Should I feel used? I don't, really. I brought this on myself. Still, I didn't think he would just wink at me and be done with it. What happens now? How do I act around him? Was I really thinking that he would break up with Alex and we'd live happily ever after?

I hate to admit it, but part of me was thinking that. This was never in Life's Little Instruction Book. I should write my own: Taking Your Own Advice When You're Not Yourself.

Kyle leaves his seat and sits next to me. I look at the back of Jesse's head, tilted against Alex's.

"Hey, Rebecca. What happened to you last night?" He asks this twice before I actually realize he's speaking to me. "How'd you end up in J.J.'s room?"

"I – went for a walk to clear my head."

Kyle doesn't know. Maybe he's probing.

"I was really worried about you," he says.

I smile. "Thanks." If Kyle doesn't know, then no one else does. Unless Jesse's told Alex. But I really doubt they'd be cuddling.

I envision walking up to Jesse and saying, "Last night was wonderful," or some other cliché, just to see what would happen. Yeah, like that's a good idea. You're barely yourself again, Rebecca. Don't muck it up even more.

"I figured you wandered off with J.J. I keep telling you he's trouble," says Kyle.

Lightning strikes me.

"Do you feel okay? Do you have a hangover? You had a lot to drink for your first time."

My first time.

"I just feel a bit – scattered." My body's on Jesse's bed, my mind in space, my common sense on eBay.

"I've got the perfect song for you," says Kyle, bringing out his iPod. "It's by Amanda Marshall. It starts with her waking up in bed and – "

"Maybe not today, Kyle," I say.

Kyle starts singing about a woman who wakes up on a Sunday morning with a tattoo of a snake and a pierced tongue.

"Kyle, I'm not really in the mood," I say. He looks at me with a face as unreadable as a blank piece of paper. It's impossible to tell if he knows what happened. I tolerate it until he sings about the woman losing control and going on a fantasy ride.

"Kyle!" I shout. Heads in the front of the bus turn around. I lower my voice. "I just – want to think."

"Okay, whatever," he says. He takes an empty seat across the aisle. I expect him to unpack Isabelle, but instead he just looks out the window the same way I look out mine.

There's no way he could know. Could he?