Okay, that was a lie, sex appealed to her. When she and Trey had made out, Kylie had been tempted, real y tempted, but then Kylie remembered her and Sara talking about how the first time should be special.
Then she recal ed how Sara had given in to Brad's "needs"-Brad who was the love of Sara's life-yet, within two weeks of giving in, the love of Sara's life had dumped her. What was so special about that?
Since then, Sara had dated four other guys, and she'd slept with two of them. Now, Sara had stopped talking about sex being special.
"Look, I know you're worried about your parents," Sara said. "But that's why you need to just let loose and have some fun." Sara tucked her long, brown hair behind her ear. "I'm getting you a margarita and you're going to love it."
Sara darted off to the table by the group of people. Kylie started to fol ow but her gaze slapped against Soldier Dude, looking as scary and weird as ever, standing by the group of margarita drinkers.
Kylie shot around, prepared to bolt, but she smacked right into a guy's chest, and darn it if more beer didn't jump out of the bottle and fal right between her boobs. "Great. My boobs are going to smel like a brewery."
"Every guy's dream," the husky male voice said. "But I'm sorry."
She recognized Trey's voice before she did his broad shoulders or his unique masculine scent. Preparing herself for the pain that seeing him would cause, she raised her gaze. "It's okay, John's already done it once."
She tried not to stare at the way Trey's sandy brown hair fel against his brow, or the way his green eyes seemed to lure her closer, or the way his mouth tempted her to lean in and press her lips to his.
"So it's true." He frowned.
"What's true?" she asked.
"That you and John have hooked up."
Kylie considered lying. The thought that it would hurt him appealed to her. It appealed to her so much that it reminded her of the stupid games her parents played lately. Oh, no, she would not stoop to their "grown-up" level.
"I haven't hooked up with anyone." She turned to leave.
He caught her. His touch, the feel of his warm hand on her elbow, sent waves of pain right to her heart. And standing this close, his clean, masculine scent fil ed her airways. Oh God, she loved his smel .
"I heard about your grandma," he said. "And Sara told me about your parents getting a divorce. I'm so sorry, Kylie."
Tears threatened to crawl up her throat. Kylie was seconds away from fal ing against his warm chest and begging him to hold her. Nothing ever felt better than Trey's arms around her, but then she saw the girl, Trey's screw toy, walk outside, carrying two beers. In less than five minutes, Trey would be trying to get in her panties. And from the too-low-cut blouse and too-short skirt the girl wore, it appeared he wouldn't have to try too hard.
"Thanks," Kylie muttered, and went to join Sara. Luckily, Soldier Dude had decided margaritas weren't his thing after al and left.
"Here." Sara took the beer from Kylie's hand and replaced it with a margarita.
The frosty glass felt unnatural y cold. Kylie leaned in and whispered, "Did you see a strange guy here a minute ago? Dressed in some funky army outfit?"
Sara's eyebrows did their wild, wiggly thing. "How much of that beer did you drink?" Her laughter fil ed the night air. Kylie wrapped her hands tighter around the cold glass, worried she seriously might be losing her mind. Adding alcohol to the situation didn't seem like a good idea.
An hour later, when three Houston cops walked into the backyard and had everyone line up at the back gate, Kylie stil had the same untouched margarita clutched in her hands.
"Come on, kids," one of the cops said. "The sooner we move you to the precinct, the sooner we can get your parents to come get you." That was when Kylie knew for certain that her life real y had been toilet-bound-and someone had just flushed.
* * *
"Where's Dad?" Kylie asked her mom when she stepped into the room at the police station. "I cal ed Dad."
I'm a phone call away, Pumpkin. Hadn't he told her that? So why wasn't he here to get Pumpkin?
Her mom's green eyes tightened. "He cal ed me."
"I wanted Dad," Kylie insisted. No, she needed her dad, she thought, and her vision clouded with tears. She needed a hug, needed someone who would understand.
"You don't get what you want, especial y when ... my God, Kylie, how could you do this?"
Kylie swiped the tears from her face. "I didn't do anything. Didn't they tel you? I walked a straight line. Touched my nose and even said my ABCs backwards. I didn't do anything."
"They found drugs there," her mother snapped.
"I wasn't doing drugs."
"But do you know what they didn't find there, young lady?" Her mother pointed a finger at her. "Any parents. You lied to me."
"Maybe I'm just too much like you," Kylie said, stil reeling at the thought that her dad hadn't shown up. He'd known how upset she'd been. Why hadn't he come?
"What does that mean, Kylie?"
"You told dad you didn't know what happened to his underwear. But you'd just flame-broiled his shorts on the gril ."
Guilt fil ed her mother's eyes and she shook her head. "Dr. Day is right."
"What does my shrink have to do with tonight?" Kylie asked. "Don't tel me you cal ed her. God, Mom, if you dare bring her down here where al my friends-"
"No, she's not here. But it's not just about tonight." She inhaled. "I can't do this alone."
"Do what alone?" Kylie asked, and she got this bad feeling in her stomach.
"I'm signing you up for a summer camp."
"What summer camp?" Kylie clutched her purse to her chest. "No, I don't want to go to any camp."
"It's not about what you want." Her mom motioned for Kylie to walk out the door. "It's about what you need. It's a camp for kids with problems."
"Problems? Are you freaking nuts? I don't have any problems," Kylie insisted. Wel , not any a camp could fix. Somehow she suspected going to camp wouldn't bring Dad home, it wouldn't make Soldier Dude disappear, and it wouldn't win Trey back.
"No problems? Real y, then why am I at the police station at almost midnight picking up my sixteen-year-old daughter? You're going to the camp. I'm signing you up tomorrow. This isn't up for debate."
I'm not going. She kept tel ing herself that as they walked out of the police station. Her mother might be bat-shit crazy, but not her dad. He simply wouldn't let her mom send her off to a camp fil ed with a bunch of juvenile delinquents. He wouldn't.