The Party (13 page)

“Hey, why don’t we make this my treat,” Jessica said quickly, stepping up to the window, pulling out a twenty. “Why don’t I—”

“She’s got plenty of dough,” Russ interrupted. He stretched his hand over to pluck a bill from Sara’s purse. Sara held it out of reach. He frowned. “Hey, come on, we’re holding up the line.”

“No,” Sara said.

“What do you mean, no?” Russ demanded.

“You didn’t say please.”

“Please what? Please give me a couple of bucks? Man, you’re—All right, all right, please give me a couple of bucks.”

Sara stopped smiling. “No.”

“What do ya want to see?” the chick in the window finally asked. The people behind them began to stir.

Michael took out his wallet. “Russ, I could lend you a ten if you need—”

“No,” Sara interrupted, her eyes fixed on Russ. “No one’s loaning this buffoon a red penny.”

Russ shook his head, disgusted. “You know what your problem is, girl? You’re spoiled. You get everything handed to you on a platter. You’ve got no class.”

Sara started to laugh, loud and high, like a hyena. She did this for maybe three seconds, then suddenly cut it off and poked a sharp finger into Russ’s chest. “I have no class!” she screamed. “You’re an hour late! Your truck smells like a cow stall! You practically get me thrown in jail, and now you’re pinching money out of my purse!”

“That’s telling him,” Bubba said, enjoying the exchange. The others held back. It was too late, Jessica knew, to go back.

“My truck doesn’t stink,” Russ said indignantly. “And I’m not pinching your money. I’m just short is all. I didn’t know I was going to have to pay for all this tonight.”

Sara went to snap at him, stopped. Jessica began to feel faint. “What do you mean?” Sara asked quietly.

“I didn’t know we were going out until your friend called me. If I’d known, I would have went—”

“Stop,” Sara said. She glanced at her, spoke to Russ. “Jessie called you? When did Jessie call you?”

Russ lowered his head, realizing his mistake. “I don’t know.”

Sara nodded. “Jessie set this all up, didn’t she? Yeah, that makes sense. You’re being a jerk ’cause you don’t want to be here. Well, I can understand that.” She took a breath. “I’m sorry.”

“What do ya want to see?” the girl asked again. She had the line down pat. Sara reached into her purse, threw all her money under the window.

“The vamp flick,” she told her, glancing at the rest of them. “It’s on me.”

Then she left, in a hurry, and Jessica was not able to catch up to her until they were halfway across the mall, near the central fountain. Fortunately, none of the others followed. Sara was crying. Jessica would not have thought it possible.

“I didn’t know this would happen,” Jessica said. “I didn’t know.”

Sara didn’t tell her to go away, didn’t blame her. Removing a handkerchief from her bag, she slowly wiped away her tears, blew her nose. Jessica watched with a mixture of guilt and amazement. Who was this fragile creature? It couldn’t be her best friend. That girl never cried, not in the twelve years she had known her. Sara looked at her with red eyes.

“I would call a cab, but I spent all my money,” she said.

“I’ll go get Michael. We’ll give you a ride home. You stay here until I get back.” She put her arm around her. “I really am sorry.”

Sara smiled faintly, embarrassed. “This is stupid.”

Jessica hugged her. “No, this just means you like him.”

Michael met her midway between the theaters and the fountain. She explained how Sara would rather not have to see the others any more tonight. He understood immediately; he went for the car. They drove to Jessica’s house; Sara had planned to spend the night, anyway, and Jessica wanted to talk to

her. Sara didn’t say a word, except to thank Michael when she got out of the car, Jessica watched her hurry to the front door, disappear inside. She turned to Michael.

“I guess I still owe you a movie,” she said.

“That’s OK.”

“You know, you’re being awfully cool about all this. I think I would feel better if you were a little put out or something.”

He played with the keys in the ignition. Now he wouldn’t look at her, and for a moment she wondered if he was nervous. But he hadn’t asked her out. He couldn’t be thinking of kissing her good night.

What if I kissed him?

“Sara seemed pretty upset,” he said, rolling down his window and placing his left elbow halfway outside. In the confines of the front seat, he had placed himself as far away from her as possible. She decided to take the hint. He didn’t want her kisses. He probably just wanted to get back to see the movie. She couldn’t blame him.

“Yeah, she is. I better go see her.”

“OK.” He glanced up the street. “I have some free time tomorrow evening, if you still need help with chemistry?”

He probably had to work all day, and would be exhausted when he got home. She would be stealing his own study time. “Oh, that, never mind. I’ve been reading the textbook like mad the last few days. I think I’ve caught up on my own.”

“Are you sure? It’s no bother.”

“I’m sure.” She reached over, touched his arm. “Thanks.”

Now he turned his keen dark eyes on her. “For everything?”

He remembered! She smiled. “What else?”

A sweet note to finish the evening. Nevertheless, walking toward her front door, alone, the sound of his car disappearing around the corner, she felt a little sad. She would have to remember to make sure Michael came to Alice’s party next Saturday.

A week later, riding to the party in the Jaguar with Bubba and Nick, Michael was still thinking of Jessica’s good night, and feeling bad. A couple of hours alone with him and she decides she doesn’t even want his help with her homework. Hell of an impression he must have made. Yet for a few happy minutes here and there, over dinner and standing in line for the tickets before the Sara-Russ blowup, he had actually believed she liked him. He’d caught her staring at him a couple of times, watching him, thinking, he had imagined, how far out he just might be.

She had probably been wondering when the night would be over.

Since then he had spoken to Jessica only in passing. He had taken to timing his trips to their locker so he would avoid her. He did so not because he was angry with her, but because he didn’t want to bother her. She was so sweet; she might feel obligated to be nice to him even if she didn’t feel like it. And he had another reason. She’d been spending a lot of time with Bill Skater the past week, at lunch and during break.

Beyond their mutual great looks, Michael couldn’t imagine what those two had in common. Of course, from their point of view, that was probably more than enough.

“You’re awfully quiet back there, Mike,” Bubba said, driving. Nick sat to his right in the passenger seat. After dropping Sara and Jessica off the last Saturday, Michael had gone straight home. He had, however, seen Nick the next day at work and heard how well things had gone with Maria. But he had not spoken to Bubba about the
Big Night
, about Clair or Jessica. After all these years, Bubba usually knew when to leave him alone. Then again, it was Bubba who was dragging him to this party. If it hadn’t been for him, and a fear of offending Alice, he would be at home now reading a book.

“That happens to me when I don’t talk. You make a left here, in case you didn’t know.”

Bubba took one look down the road and drove past it without turning. Michael quickly saw his reason. The street was jammed, with cars everywhere. Though a quarter of a mile away from Polly and Alice’s house, he could clearly hear the rhythm of the music, the sound of people laughing and carrying on.

“Your babe’s going to be here, isn’t she?” Bubba asked Nick.

“Yeah, Jessie invited her. And me, I guess.”

“It doesn’t look like they’re turning away anyone,” Michael said. Bubba couldn’t find a spot anywhere.

“Is Clair coming?” Nick asked Bubba.

“Yeah. Wait till you see her in this new bikini I bought her. For all the material they used, it could have been cut from a red handkerchief.”

“How did you keep her from exploding when she found out you weren’t going to the concert?” Nick asked.

Bubba looked over at him. “Do you consider yourself a gentleman?”

“I suppose.”

Bubba pointed to the glove compartment. “Open that, take the box out.”

Nick did as he was told. Bubba was referring to the box of condoms he had been showing off last week. “There’re only two left,” Nick said, peering inside.

“That’s why,” Bubba said simply.

Michael snorted. “You didn’t have sex with her eight times before ice cream and the movies.”

“Four times before, three and a half times after,” Bubba said.

“I don’t believe it,” Michael said. “I bet you didn’t even kiss her good night.”

“Maybe I didn’t kiss her good night. I don’t remember. She fell asleep in my arms.”

“That’s B.S.,” Michael said. “How could you get her in bed?”

“For the faithful romantic, no explanation is necessary. For the unbeliever, no explanation is possible.”

“You probably got her loaded.”

“I confess to offering her a couple of drinks.”

“I bet she was unconscious the whole time,” Michael said. He didn’t know whether to believe him or not. In either case, he realized he was jealous.

“What was the halftime like?” Nick asked, curious.

Bubba smiled. “And you said you were a gentleman.”

They ended up parking two blocks away. Climbing out of the car, Bubba donned a pair of sunglasses and a hat even though the sun had set two hours earlier. He already had on a flowery Hawaiian shirt and a pair of brilliant red baggy swimming trunks Nick offered to carry the case of Heineken Bubba had purchased—with the help of a phony l.D. Michael tucked his trunks in his towel, lagging behind his friends as they walked toward the huge, brightly lit house.

A number of people were gathered on the long steep front lawn. Michael thought he saw Dale Jensen, his main competitor for valedictorian honors, sucking on a joint. Neither of them let on he had seen the other.

Loud and crowded, the beautiful living room had changed from the last time he’d been there. Furniture had been cleared away from the center of the floor, a thick clear plastic laid down. The dancers could have used a referee. You couldn’t even hear yourself talking.

Nick deposited the beer in an ice chest in the kitchen, then he and Michael followed Bubba down the hall to a relatively quiet game room. The main attractions here were a pool table and three separate video games. Michael searched for Jessica, hoping to find her so he could avoid her.

Russ had planted himself in the corner in front of the full color graphics Demon Death. He had a joy stick, a full pitcher of beer, and Polly to help him back to safety from the realm of the dead. She was all over him. Sara mustn’t be around.

On the other side of the room, on a low couch behind a table covered with snack bowls, sat Bill Skater, Clair Hilrey, and The Rock. The latter glanced up the instant Nick entered, leaned over, and whispered something to his quarterback. The team had lost the previous night: 17 to 7 . Bill had thrown two interceptions and had spent the entire second half on the bench, when Tabb had scored its only touchdown. The Rock had played the whole game and had sacked the opposing quarterback four times. He was a strong SOB.

“Maria might be outside,” Michael said to Nick.

“She might be in this room,” Nick said. He had gained a measure of self confidence in the last two weeks.

“She’s not in this room,” Michael said. “And there’s no sense looking for trouble.”

“All right,” Nick said, turning to leave. “But I can’t keep avoiding him. You know that.”

“We’ll see.”

Nick left. Apparently Bubba saw trouble, too. He didn’t approach Clair right off the bat. He waited till Bill and The Rock were distracted, caught her eye, gesturing for her to meet him outside. Clair shook her head. She didn’t mind hanging on to Bubba as long as no jocks were around. Yet Bubba persisted with his gestures, and finally she stood, excusing herself and silently passing within inches of Bubba as she left the room.

“There’s a girl in love,” Michael observed.

“Even the best of them suffer from guilt now and then,” Bubba responded, not worried.

“Face it, she doesn’t want to be seen with you when all her friends are around.”

Bubba didn’t appreciate the remark. “I didn’t see Jessie running to welcome you with open arms at the door.” He went after Clair.

“Sorry,” Michael called after him. He was off to a great start. He noticed a Ping Pong table set up in the garage off the game room. He often played against his mom at home; they were both good. He went and got in line for the next game.

He was a point away from being handed the paddle when he saw Jessica enter the game room and sit down beside Bill on the couch. They seemed happy to see each other. Bill handed her his drink. She offered him a pretzel. Michael accepted the paddle and crushed his opponent’s initial serve into the table. They needed to get a fresh ball. He handed the paddle to the guy behind him and got out of line.

I could walk home. It would only take a couple of hours.

He once had read a discussion about which was the worse pain: severe emotional or severe physical pain. The article had come to no conclusions. Now he could see why. One always brought the other. He actually felt as if he had been knifed through the heart. He felt the urge to shout, to run away, but he didn’t have a shred of energy to move. Most of all, he felt angry at himself for caring. What did he have to care about? They hadn’t gone together. He had nothing to feel sad about losing. What he had was exactly that—nothing. Looking at her didn’t even bring him pleasure anymore.

He would have left if Alice hadn’t suddenly appeared at his side. He felt her before he saw her. She was hugging him. “Mikey, you’re very, very late,” she scolded.

He hugged her back. Touching her seemed to lessen his disappointment. “How come I hardly ever see you at school?” he asked.

She stood back a step. She looked thinner than he would have liked, but color had returned to her cheeks. Her clothes surprised him: plain blue jeans, an oversize green sweatshirt—and she had a closet of dresses to choose from. She read his mind, as she often did.

“I wore this for you,” she said. “Don’t you remember?”

He smiled. “When you came into the store at Christmas? Yeah, but you were ready to paint then.”

“I’m going to paint tonight,” she said, suddenly serious. “When everyone’s gone.” Then she smiled. “I’m happy you’re here. I have to talk to you.”

Bubba chose that moment to reappear, hat and dark glasses still in place. “Hello, Crackers,” he said to Alice.

“Hi, Johnny,” she replied in the same flat tone. Michael understood Alice’s choice of greeting—John was Bubba’s real name after all—but he had never heard the Crackers nickname before.

“Clair’s changing,” Bubba told him. “So are Nick and Maria. It’s time for a little dip.”

Alice warmed at the suggestion. “Yeah, Mike, let’s go in the pool. Polly’s been on me all night about playing the hostess, and I’m getting sick of it. I’ll dump a half gallon of bubble bath in the filter. It’ll be great! You dive off the board, and you don’t know what you’re going to land on.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Michael asked. He supposed he couldn’t leave now.

“No, that’s a great idea,” Bubba said. “With the bubbles, we can all go skinny dipping.” He glanced at Alice. “As long as that doesn’t offend the kids?”

Alice didn’t answer immediately, sizing him up. “Sara’s here. She’s upstairs, in case you didn’t know.”

“So?” Bubba said.

Alice slowly stepped around him, forcing Bubba to turn to follow her. “She didn’t expect to be elected president,” she said. “She was really surprised. Everyone was, except me. I know you used your computer to change the vote count.”

It was Bubba’s turn to size her up, his thoughts effectively hidden behind his dark glasses. Michael had of course suspected Bubba had altered the outcome of the election. After studying how the votes were collected, however, and the structure of the program used to count them, he had been unable to figure out how it could have been done. He had therefore, not confronted Bubba with it. In reality, Michael couldn’t have cared less who was school president.

“I didn’t,” Bubba said finally, his voice low and even. “And I don’t care whether you believe that or not. But I do insist you stop accusing me of having access to confidential files, especially when other people are around. I told you on that first day—talk like that could get Mike and me expelled.”

Alice laughed at his seriousness. “You’re such a wonderful liar! I love it! Don’t worry, Johnny, I’m not turning you in. Not tonight at least. Come on, let’s go swimming. Let me go change.”

As Alice left, Bubba looked at Michael and shook his head.