Robin Wasserman - Pride

“Kane, what is this?” she asked in a dull, flat voice.

“Just something to make our New Year’s extra special,” he explained, putting an arm around her.

She shrugged it off.

“I don’t do drugs,” she snapped. “You know that.”

“It’s not like this would make you a junkie,” he wheedled. “It’s just something special, a one-time deal. And you won’t believe how it will make you feel.”

Beth suddenly felt like she was in the middle of one of those horrible after-school specials they forced on you in junior high health class, where the heroine almost bows to peer pressure but, in the end, wises up and decides to “just say no!” Or maybe this was one of those where the heroine decides to throw caution to the wind… and ends up living in a cardboard box with needle tracks tracing across her arms.

No, I don’t do drugs, she’d assured her parents the one time they’d gotten up the nerve to ask. Trust me, even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t know where to find them .

It had been true-for seventeen years-and now, suddenly, it wasn’t.

Beth looked at the small open box, the innocuous-looking tablets. How much harm could they do, just this one time? What about all her talk about trying new things, taking risks-was it just that? Talk? She was always so predictable, so good, always doing the right thing. She looked across the room and there he was again, Adam-her gaze drawn to him no matter how hard she tried to avoid it. He kissed Harper, and Beth shivered. She’d done the right thing with him, and where had it gotten her? He still thought she was a cheater. A traitor. Everyone did. So why not actually do something, for once? It’s not like she had a reputation to protect, not anymore. Was she going to go through her life too afraid of consequences to ever really live ?

She picked up one of the pills between her thumb and index finger and looked at it thoughtfully.

“You said you wanted some excitement in your life, a thrill,” Kane pointed out. “This is it-it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before.”

“I don’t know, Kane… it’s not… is it safe?”

“As safe as can be,” he promised. “Would I be willing to take them myself if it weren’t safe?”

She raised an eyebrow, and he gave her a rueful grin.

“You have a point,” he admitted. “But I would never put you in danger.” He grabbed her and kissed her, lifting her off the ground, and then, slowly, eased her back down to earth. “I just want to show you something that’s almost as amazing as you are.”

It was tempting-and it would be so easy to say yes. But skiing down a mountain was one thing, Beth decided. Throwing yourself off a cliff was another. “I don’t think so,” she said, wishing she sounded more resolute.

“Come on,” Kane urged. “You know you want to.”

Beth looked at him and, suddenly, snapped back to reality. You know you want to? This wasn’t even creative peer pressure-it was absurdly textbook, as if he’d lifted the line from a drug pusher’s manual: How to Drug Friends and Influence People . She might be naive, but not naive enough to fall for this.

Beth put the tablet back into the box, replaced the lid, and tried to hand it back to Kane, but he refused.

“Take it,” he said irritably. “I went to a lot of trouble to get these. I promise nothing will happen to you. Don’t you want to have some fun, for once in your life?”

Without a word, she slipped the box into her purse, shook her head, and began to turn away. She needed-well, she didn’t know what she needed, exactly, other than to be somewhere else, away.

“Don’t you trust me?” he asked plaintively.

And that’s when she finally figured it out.

No . I don’t.

It was 11:29, and Miranda pushed her way out to the back deck, her heart pounding in her chest. He was out there, somewhere, her mystery man. He’d told her he would be wearing a gray-and-green-striped shirt, and she’d told him she would be wearing a pale blue, off-the-shoulder top. She still hadn’t told him that she was mousy and flat-chested, with rust-colored hair and a big mouth-but he’d find all that out soon enough. She hoped he wouldn’t care.

She saw the shirt first.

Normal build, normal height, no extra limbs-so far, so good.

Then she saw his face.

She raised her eyes to the ceiling. Was it too much to ask that she not be the punch line of every cosmic joke?

Introducing Bachelor #1: Greg. Of course. The Greg she’d dated a couple of times and then blown off, the Greg who reamed her out every time he saw her, then raced off in the opposite direction. Miranda choked back a spurt of crazed laughter and resisted the impulse to offer up a feeble request: Can I see what’s behind door number two?

But then, maybe because of the champagne, maybe because of the holiday spirit, maybe because she was just tired of being alone, Miranda took a moment. And reconsidered. After all, she remembered another Greg, the one who had been so good to her, before everything went down. A guy it had been so easy for her to talk to, and who, back in the beginning, at least, had seemed to like her so much.

Maybe this wasn’t such a disaster. Maybe it was actually the universe’s way of giving her a second chance.

“Miranda?” he asked in disbelief. “Please tell me you’re not Spitfire?”

“Guilty,” she replied with a weak smile.

The look on his face mirrored her own expression of a moment before: a mixture of disappointment, incredulity, and disgust.

“It figures,” he mumbled under his breath, and turned to walk away.

“Greg, wait,” Miranda said, grabbing his arm. “I know this seems-”

“Pathetic? Like a cruel joke?”

“Weird” she said firmly. “But think about it. This kind of makes sense. We have a lot in common, we get along… we used to get along… Maybe this is a sign? That we should give it another shot?”

“A sign?” He shot her a look of disbelief, then shook his head. “It’s a sign, all right-a sign that I should have listened to my instincts, that I should have known better than to try to meet someone on a Web site. What was I thinking-what kind of girl could I really have expected to find on the Internet ?”

“Could you lower your voice?” Miranda begged, edging away from him as the people nearby turned to stare.

“I told myself they wouldn’t all be desperate and pathetic,” he continued, just as loudly. “I lied to myself. I should have known, they would all be just like you .”

Kane took another gulp of vodka from his trusty silver flask.

She’d walked away from him. Again. On New Year’s.

This was getting old.

And what had he done wrong this time? Just tried to show her how to have a little fun. But she was too good for that, wasn’t she? Too trapped by her narrow-minded view of the world to even notice when someone offered her an escape route.

Kane reached in his pocket and pulled out another of the little yellow pills. Good thing he’d kept an extra supply on hand, just in case. He had hoped they could share this experience, that it would loosen her up and bring them closer-and isn’t that what she was always whining about? Wishing he would open up, let her get close? She’d had her chance-and she’d blown it.

He popped the pill in his mouth and let it dissolve on his tongue, washing it down with another swig of vodka.

He hated to take this stuff on his own, it was such a waste-but soon the drug would sweep over him and take him away, and then he wouldn’t care. Besides, he was used to alone. Alone was how he lived. It had never stopped him before, and it wouldn’t stop him tonight.