E D W A R D
When I looked up from my phone, Allora was walking towards me, her house behind her, making it seem she was walking out of the architecture magazine I was sure her parents design choices had been featured in at least once, the title something to do with living with style. She was wearing baggy low-waisted jeans and a bikini top and wrapping her arms around me.
I hugged her back, told her she looked good, really good, and she told me I was late, really late, her hand already in mine as she dragged me to her front porch, the windows spilling out fluorescent lights onto the freshly mowed lawn, and music blasting from inside like a heartbeat on drugs.
The first semester of our senior year was over, and the girls had won their Sectionals, and we had won ours, and everyone wanted to celebrate, so Allora was throwing a party, a really big party. It had started hours ago, and I had just parked my car.
"I'm really sorry," I said, ready to give her an explanation even though she hadn't really asked for one. "My father needed my help with his car â"
"Since when are you good with cars?" she stopped me, a tipsy smile on her face.
"I'm not," I admitted, following her up the stairs and in through the front door. "That's why I'm late."
She laughed and let go of my hand. I looked around. There were big tropical plants and sculptures that looked like they belonged in museums everywhere along the dim-lit hallways and the crowded steps leading upstairs. Allora had told me before that her mom was a lawyer, and her dad was a college professor, and so it made sense that her house looked the way it did inside and out. It also made sense that Allora was the way she was.
"Your house is very nice," I told her.
"Wait until the party's over," she said. "The only reason I offered to host was cause the girls promised they would help me clean everything after."
"I can help too," I offered, looking through the faces of the people sipping from plastic cups, and moving their heads to the rap song blasting from somewhere close, and talking, and laughing, and some even kissing.
Allora grabbed my hand again so I would keep on following her, "Really? You don't mind?"
"Of course not."
When we walked into the kitchen, all the girls inside cheered like there was a tv behind me and their favorite team had just scored. Except there was no tv. There was just me in a shirt I had spent too long ironing and my best pair of jeans. They were cheering for me.
Before I knew it, Ashley was actually throwing her arms around my shoulders and begging, "Please, please, please make us those cocktails from last time!"
I smiled and looked around. Every single one of our school's cheerleaders was in the kitchen, listening to their own music, and dancing to it. Kylie was sitting on the counter next to the fridge in a tiny dress, her legs crossed, her red lips on the rim of a bottle of wine already halfway gone. Next to her, Skylar Clark, who I had never seen at a party before, was pressing a cold bottle of coke against the back of her neck in a t-shirt and jeans, her hair up in a clip, cheeks red. I smiled at her. She ignored me.
Ashley still had her arms around me, but let go when I said yes to making them cocktails. I made enough for everyone, but Skylar said no to Allora when she offered to pour her one, and then again to Kylie, when she said she should at least try it.
"I can make you one without alcohol," I told her.
She shook her head, "You don't have to."
"I want to. It's fine. I'll have one too actually."
Allora frowned, "You're not drinking?"
I shook my head too, "Well, I drove here, so â"
"You can sleep over," she said.
"Thank you, but I can't stay long anyway. My father needs my car to go to work in the morning â"
They started booing before I could go on, and so I didn't. Instead, I showed them an apologetic smile, and went back to making cocktails, hoping they would just turn their attention to something else. When Liam Chan walked in with an African sculpture in his hands, they all did.
"You should hide this somewhere," he told Allora. "Jack almost broke it just now."
She took it from him and put it away inside a cupboard, a frown on her face, "Of course he did. He's fucking racist."
"No, I'm pretty sure he's just drunk," Liam said. "He's wrestling Finn. It's hilarious."
I gave Skylar her cocktail and took mine, already on my way to the kitchen door, "I'll go break them up before they hurt themselves."
"Just let them kill each other!" Liam shouted at me over the music.
But I was already in the hallway, making my way to the house's heart, where the blasting music was coming from, my drink in my hand, my eyes going from face to face, a smile showing up on mine every time I saw someone I knew.
In the living room, on a big Persian rug between green velvet couches Jack had Finn in a chokehold, a drink in his hand, and a drunk smile on his face. I looked around as I walked closer. The guys on the couch were cheering them on. A girl was sitting on Gary's lap, playing with his hair. Another one was smoking by the window, and it wasn't a cigarette, and the window wasn't even open. I took Jack's drink away from him before he spilt it everywhere and put it on shelf nearby.
"What made you think this was a good idea?" I asked him.
He laughed and tightened the hold he had on Finn, who was turning red, the veins on his head pushing against his skin. I rolled my eyes, grabbed his arm, and pushed it away so hard, Jack feel on his back, and Finn on his face. Everyone laughed.
"What's wrong with you?" I asked, and they laughed too.
"He started it," Jack said, kicking Finn as he got up to crash on the couch with the others. I helped Finn up and he took my drink and downed it before I could stop him.
"Yeah, cause he's a bitch boy," he said when he was done, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Also, did you put crack cocaine in this? It's so fucking good!"
I smiled, "There's more in the kitchen, if you want."
"Fuck yeah!" he said, already on his way.
I could have said it was basically just juice, but then everyone would have made fun of him, and Finn liked to act tough, but I knew he hated being the butt of the joke, of any joke, really. Once he had walked out of practice because Jacob had told him to go change his tampon, which had just made it worse, because then, for a week, everyone said he had actually left to go do it. It hadn't been a good week for him.
"Before you ask, no, we're not on drugs," Jack said, his drink already in his hand again. "I couldn't get any."
"Let me guess, because you blew up your allowance on it last time," I said, already on my way out of the living room. Jack shouted something back, but I couldn't hear him over the sound of the music, and I didn't really care anyway.
I stopped in the hallway and reached for my phone in my pocket. Isaac's message was still up on the screen. It read: just got to the party. her house is fucking huge. what the fuck? do you think I can be her trophy wife?
I hadn't answered yet, but I started typing: Where are you?
I didn't send it. Instead, I leaned back against the wall behind me and looked around for him. When a door opened at the end of the hallway, he came out in a plaid shirt, a white t-shirt underneath, black jeans, his hair a mess. I waited for someone to come out of the bathroom behind him, a girl, maybe, but no one did, and before I could stop it, a stupid smile appeared on my face.
When Isaac saw me looking, another one appeared on his, except his wasn't stupid at all.
He threw his arms up in the air, and said, "Finally!!"
I pushed away from the wall and walked up to him, and he dropped his arms to his sides and walked up to me, and when we were close enough, he pulled me into a hug, only to let go before I could hug him back.
I scratched the back of my neck, and said, "I'm sorry I'm late."
"I'll literally never forgive you for this. What happened?"
"My father's car broke down on the way home from work and he refuses to take it to a mechanic, so I had to try and help him fix it."
"And did you?"
"Fix it? Of course not."
"Ethan can probably help you. He worked at a dealership a few years ago. Just don't ask him tonight cause he's already drunk."
"He's here?" I smiled. Up until a few months ago, all I knew of Ethan was that, like Isaac, he insisted on skating on school grounds even after getting in trouble for it several times over the last few years. These days, I knew much more.
It was hard not to know one without the other. The only time they weren't together was when we had football practice, and even that Isaac had tried to change by insisting Ethan joined the team. Ethan had refused, on the account of finding football too aggressive, which was funny coming from someone who went surfing every morning at a beach known for having the most aggressive waves in the east coast.
In front of me, Isaac said, "Yeah, he is. My parents are babysitting Ronny."
I had found out a few weeks ago that Ethan's mom was in the hospital, and that his dad was dead, which meant he was the only one around to take care of his baby brother, even though he was still young enough to need taking care of too.
"Where is he?" I asked.
"Outside in the pool," Isaac said. "He's probably gonna stay there for the rest of the night. He has a thing for bodies of water. Come."
I laughed and followed him through the hallway and out the door that opened to the backyard. When we were out in the cold, he pointed at someone underwater in the pool.
"There he is."
I walked closer to the edge. Ethan was sitting crossed legged at the bottom of the pool in just his boxer shorts, and everyone around was counting out loud how long he could go without having to come up to the surface. This included most of the girls that had been in the kitchen.
"Someone should probably pull him out," Skylar said. She was on the other side of the pool, sitting on the edge with the cocktail I had made her in her hand, almost all of it gone, her feet underwater, her shoes next to her.
"He's fine," Isaac said next to me, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes on Ethan.
"He's not fine," Kylie said from inside the pool, holding on to the edge, a concerned look on her face. "He's turning purple."
"He's fine," Isaac insisted, taking his eyes off him to watch me sit down on one of the couches around the fireplace.
Before he could move to join me, Allora showed up, a cocktail in her hand too, and a drunk smile on her face. She pointed at me, and asked, "Is this seat taken?"
I thought she meant the one next to me on the couch, so I smiled and shook my head, but she smiled even more, and sat down on my lap instead.
"Finn's right. You put crack cocaine in this."
I shook my head, "I promise you I didn't."
She put her arm around me, but before she could say what she was going to say, Ethan came up for air inside the pool and everyone else around went crazy for him.
"I seriously thought you were trying to kill yourself," Kylie said, propping herself up the edge of the pool so she was sitting next to Skylar.
Ethan smiled from ear to ear, and shook his head, too out of breath to speak. In front of us, Isaac took off his plaid shirt and his t-shirt, and threw them both on the couch. Then he bent down to take off his shoes, and his socks, and then his jeans. When he was just in his boxer shorts, he turned around and jumped into the pool.
Allora put her arm around me, and frowned, "Are you drunk?"
I frowned too, "No. Why?"
"I just asked you a question a bunch of times â"
"Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, shaking my head. "What was the question?"
"Forget about it." She shrugged, her frown slowly turning upside down. "Look at Kylie."
Over on the other side of the pool, Jack had swum over to where Kylie was sitting next to Skylar, and tried to start a conversation. I hadn't heard him come from inside the house, which was a first, seeing as Jack liked to announce himself into every room.
"Lo siento, no hablo inglés," Kylie said, an apologetic smile on her lips.
"I've known you for years," Jack said, not impressed.
Kylie put a confused look on. Next to her, Skylar was trying to hide her own smile, and inside the pool, Isaac was competing with Ethan to see who could hold their breath underwater the longest. I looked back at Kylie.
"No entendo," she went on, turning to Skylar after, "¿Qué dice?"
Skylar couldn't help but laugh, and in the pool, Jack rolled his eyes and turned to Finn, who was floating around on an inflatable swan, with a shit-eating grin on his face, and said, "Well, that was a disappointment."
"You hear that a lot, don't you?" Finn asked.
I looked away. Isaac and Ethan were still underwater, and on my lap, Allora was laughing, her fingers running through the back of my head.
When Jack noticed her laughing at him, he splashed both of us, "Eat a dick!"
Allora laughed even more, "From your mouth to God's ears."
Jack didn't know what to say to that, so he just made a face and disappeared underwater. I smiled, and, in his inflatable, so did Finn, who said, "We should play spin the bottle!"
The next thing I knew, Allora was jumping off my lap, and Ethan was coming up the surface of the water, and immediately after him, so was Isaac, struggling to breathe, but still laughing, his head thrown back, his mouth open, gasping for air. He ran his fingers through his hair and said something to Ethan I couldn't hear.
For some reason, everyone was coming to sit around the fireplace, jumping on the couches, or on each other's laps, or on the tiles beneath us. When Allora came back with an empty bottle of wine and put it on the floor in front of the fireplace, I understood why. Horny or drunk, everyone wanted to play spin the bottle.
I was getting up to leave when Isaac jumped on the seat next to mine, a towel around his shoulders, and a ready smile on his lips.
"Where are you going?" he asked me, reaching for my hand.
"I'm not playing spin the bottle." Obviously.
He looked confused, "Why not?"
I was confused too, "Are you playing?"
"Of course!"
"Why?"
Pool water dripped down his face and shoulders, and he shrugged, "Why not?"
Behind me, someone spun the bottle without warning and without conviction, and before I knew it, it was landing on Isaac. He laughed. I looked around. Allora was sitting next to Kylie on a couch across from us, and behind them, Skylar was still sitting on the edge of the pool, watching Ethan do laps underwater. The twins were sitting next to each other on the floor, too excited for their own good.
The bottle started spinning on the tiles again. I watched it go, too fast to seem like it was going to stop any time soon, and then slowly but surely, beginning to ease its momentum to land right on me.
Everyone laughed. I looked at Isaac. He was smiling like an idiot.
I couldn't help but smile too as I said, "I'm not playing."
"The bottle says you are," he told me.
"The bottle can't say anything because it's a bottle â"
"This is fucking happening!" Finn said, suddenly behind me, his hands on my shoulders.
"Nothing's happening. I'm not playing this game."
Isaac got up, the teasing look still on his face, "Why not? Come on."
"Yes! Come on!" someone said.
And then someone else, "Just go!"
And again, "Yeah!"
And again, "It's not a big deal!"
Isaac was already waiting by the pool house, still only in his boxer shorts, still dripping pool water onto the tiles, his hands on both ends of the towel hanging from his shoulders.
I rolled my eyes. Nothing had to happen. I didn't care what they said, or what they thought, so I walked towards the pool house, and went in. Isaac followed me. Someone closed the door behind him, and everything went dark.
"I don't care what they say. You don't have to do anything you don't wanna do â"
"I know," he stopped me. In the dark, he was only the shape of himself, but I knew exactly what he looked like standing there, his hands on his waist, a teasing smile on his lips.
I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall behind me, "We'll just wait it out."
"We can, yeah." He shrugged, like there was another option.
I decided I wasn't going to ask about it.
"Why did you wanna play this stupid game in the first place?"
"Well," he said, dropping his head to look down at the rug under our feet, "Usually, people play it because someone they like is playing it too."
I didn't know he liked someone, so I swallowed, and asked, "Who do you like?"
He looked up, "Who do you think?"
I swallowed again, "Allora?"
"No."
And again, "Kylie?"
"No."
I shook my head, "I have no idea then."
He took a step closer, and smiled, "Really?"
I smiled too, at this point it was like a reflex, "Really."
He stepped even closer, eyes on the rug again, and said, "It's you, idiot."
"What?"
"I'm just kidding."
But he took another step, and when he looked up, we were so close, our foreheads touched, and I could smell the chlorine on him, and feel his hand moving for my face, and my neck, and the back of it.
He said, "You don't have to do anything you don't wanna do either."
And I said, "I know."
When he put his hand under my shirt, I tilted my head to the side so our mouths could touch, and he took a deep breath, like getting ready to go underwater. By then, I couldn't stop myself, no matter how hard I tried. I leaned closer in the dark, and we kissed, his hand in the back of my head, and mine on his face, both of us trying to get as close as we could get so there was nothing between us, nothing at all, not even air.