The Party (9 page)

“I’m Polly.”

“Sara Polly?”

“I’m whoever you want me to be.”

It took time getting the axe out of the tree. It took longer getting Russ and the axe into her car. Fortunately, he remembered where he lived. She assumed it was the right house. She deposited him in the front yard without knocking on the front door and then headed back for the stadium. She decided to keep the axe for now. In his intoxicated condition, there was no telling what he might do with it.

She liked him. And she didn’t care that he was the guy Sara had been searching for all night. She’d seen Clark first and look where that had gotten her. Nowhere.

When it came to love, you were a fool to be nice.

Mr. Bark stopped Sara the following Monday morning as she was leaving his political science class. Jessica was with her.

“What is it?” Sara asked defensively. “I stayed awake the whole period.”

“It’s not that. I have some news for you.” He paused, and there was no denying from his expression that he thought it was bad news. “You know I am the faculty adviser to the student government?”

“It doesn’t surprise me,” Sara said cautiously. “What’s up?”

“You’ve been elected student body president.”

Sara laughed. “What the hell? No, you’re kidding. What are you talking about?”

“You were elected by a landslide.”

Sara swallowed. “But I wasn’t running. Jessie, tell him it was all a joke.”

“You didn’t want to be president?” Jessica asked in surprise.

“Your name was on the ballot,” Mr. Bark said.

“Now hold on a second,” Sara said. “I explained this to the whole school last Friday. Jessie put my name down.”

Jessica smiled. This was great. “No, I didn’t.”

“Polly did then. It makes no difference. I can’t be president. I hate politics. I hate politicians. No, absolutely not.”

“I don’t want you as president, either,” Mr. Bark said. “I think you have a bad attitude. But the student body doesn’t think so. Your nearest competitor didn’t get a quarter of your votes. You have a responsibility to your peers. There’s a lot of business that has to be taken care of immediately. We don’t have time for another election.”

“Who’s the new vice president?” Sara asked.

“Clair Hilrey.”

“I thought she was running for president,” Jessica said.

Mr. Bark frowned. “I thought she was, too. Maybe she put herself down for both offices. She shouldn’t have done that.”

“Make her president,” Sara said quickly.

“I can’t do that,” Mr. Bark said.

“Then I’ll do it,” Sara said.

“No, you can’t do that, either. It’s against the rules.”

“The President of the country never follows the rules, why should I? No, wait. If you won’t accept my resignation this instant, I’ll intentionally break every rule in the book. Then you’ll have to impeach me.”

Mr. Bark was getting angry. “You don’t impeach student body presidents.”

“Why not? This is a free and vicious society.”

“Why are you being so difficult? There are kids in this school who would give almost anything to have the honor that’s been bestowed on you.”

Sara started to speak, stopped, silently shook her head.

“It might be fun,” Jessica said. “It might make you popular.”

Sara glared at her. “No,” she said firmly.

Mr. Bark had run out of patience. “I can’t stand here all day arguing with you. We’re having our first student council meeting tomorrow at lunch in Room HSixteen. If you should change your mind and want to accept the office, see me sometime this afternoon. There’re notes on the student body’s financial status you should go through before the meeting. If not, then I guess we’ll have to carry on without you.”

Jessica had chemistry next. She had to go. Once outside Mr. Bark’s class, Sara refused to speak to her, anyway. She went off in a huff. Jessica couldn’t help laughing.

The laughter did not stay with her. She’d had a miserable weekend. She was still sleepy and tired from her travels. She’d had to take long naps Saturday and Sunday afternoons just to be awake at dinnertime. Also, she’d been lamenting Bill Skater’s obvious interest in Clair Hilrey. The disappointment was silly, she knew. She had only started at the school. She couldn’t realistically expect the resident fox not to have some sort of girlfriend. Nevertheless, she had spent hours since the football game wondering how she could get his attention. In Mr. Bark’s class just now, Bill hadn’t looked at her once. And she’d worn her shortest skirt.

Her gloom deepened when her chemistry teacher announced a surprise quiz in the middle of lab. She practically fell off her stool. “He didn’t say anything about a quiz on Friday,” she complained to her lab partner, Maria.

“Last Monday he warned us to be ready for a quiz at any time,” Maria said, pushing aside their rows of test tubes, getting out a fresh sheet of paper. “You weren’t here. But I wouldn’t worry, it shouldn’t count for much.”

Jessica worried anyway. To get accepted at Stanford, she had to keep her GPA close to a perfect four. She hadn’t even glanced at the textbook over the weekend.

The teacher let them stay at their lab desks. He wrote several molecular formulas on the board and asked for their valence values. It appeared no big de^ for the bulk of the class; they went right to it. Jessie sat staring at the board. She’d left her glasses at home again. She could hardly read the formulas.

What’s a valence value?

When Jessica finally looked down, she saw that Maria had slipped her a piece of paper with two rows of positive and negative values. Sitting across the gray topped table, Maria nodded.

“I can’t,” Jessica whispered.

“Just this once,” Maria whispered back. The teacher wasn’t watching. Jessica scribbled the numbers onto her paper. The teacher collected them s few minutes later. Then he wrote the answers on the board. Maria knew her stuff; they each got a hundred. Jessica thanked her as they returned to the lab.

“I’ve never cheated before,” she said, embarrassed.

“But you didn’t know there could be a quiz,” Maria said, adding softly, “Sometimes it’s hard not to lie.”

“Well, if I can ever make it up to you, let me know.”

Maria nodded—she didn’t talk a lot—and they continued with their acid base reactions, which made no more sense than they had before the quiz. Jessica swore to herself that she would study chemistry for at least two hours every night until she caught up. She even entertained the idea of asking Michael Olson for a couple of tutorial lessons. She wasn’t getting much out of the teacher; he talked too fast, and seemingly in a foreign language. Michael obviously had a sharp mind. She’d felt rather silly when she’d needed his help at the game with the camera. He had been right about the jamming disappearing when the temperatures evened out. Although she found his intelligence somewhat intimidating, he was easy to talk to. Yet she worried what he thought of her. He would start out friendly enough, and then after a couple of minutes talking to her, he’d be in a hurry to get away.

He probably thinks I’m an airhead.

Sara had cooled off by lunch. When Jessica met her near the snack bar, she even laughed about how her election had proved beyond doubt the substandard intelligence of the majority of Tabb’s students. She had not changed her mind about the job.

Polly joined them midway through break. She had not heard of the election results, and neither Jessica nor Sara brought it up. She had, however, already printed up the party invitations—elegantly lettered orange cards in flowery orange envelopes. Jessica and Sara both agreed the printers had done a fine job. Polly gave them six each.

“But don’t invite anyone weird,” she warned.

You’ll have to give one to Russ,” Jessica told Sara.

She fingered the envelopes uneasily. “I’ll think about it.”

“Are you talking about Russ Desmond?” Polly asked suddenly.

“Yes,” Sara said warily.

Polly giggled. “You can’t invite him. You’re the one who got him kicked off the cross country team. He hates you.”

Sara didn’t respond immediately, which surprised Jessica. “What are you talking about?” Jessica asked.

“Russ had to stop in the middle of his race last Friday to help Sara up. She had jumped right in his way, and he accidentally knocked her down. He ended up losing the race, and the football coach got furious and kicked him off the team.”

“How does the football coach have the authority to kick someone off the cross country team?” Jessica asked. Sara had told her about the race incident, but from a slightly different perspective.

“He’s also the athletic director,” Polly said.

An odd look had crossed Sara’s face. She was angry, certainly, but also—was it possible?—upset. “You lie,” she said.

“I’m not,” Polly said indignantly. “The whole school knows about it.”

“If that’s true, then why did the whole school just nominate me president?”

Polly sneered. “Since when are you president?”

“I am president. Ain’t I president, Jessie?”

“Unquestionably. But why does Russ hate Sara? He can’t blame her for what happened.”

Polly shrugged. “He does.”

“How do
you
know?” Sara demanded.

“He told me so when I took him home Friday night.”

Sara snorted. “You took him home? Where did you take him home from?”

“It’s none of your business,” Polly said.

Sara held up her finger. “Polly, if you’re lying to me, or even if you’re telling me the truth, you’re going to have a party at your house you’re never going to forget ’cause I’m going to drown you in your goddamn swimming pool.”

And with that, Sara whirled around and stalked off,

“What’s gotten into her?” Polly asked.

“I don’t know,” Jessica said. “Maybe it’s love.”

Polly departed to eat large quantities of sugar. Jessica was left holding her six invitations and wondering who to give them to. It took her all of a fraction of a second to realize she had to get one to Bill Skater. It didn’t take her much longer to spot him. He was alone, walking toward the parking lot. She had never seen him alone before; he usually had a bunch of guys around him. This could be a rare opportunity. Quickly she strode toward the other exit. She should be able to circle around a portion of the lot and run into him coming the other way.

Her plan worked better than she expected. She ended up coming up the aisle where he’d parked his car. He stopped when he saw her, nodded.

“Hi.”

She looked up, smiled. “Hi! You look familiar. Do we share a class?”

He put the key to his red Corvette in the door, his eyes on her. They were as blue as the Bill in her fantasies. “I don’t think so,” he said. “What’s your name?”

“Mr. Bark. I mean, we’re in Mr. Bark’s class together. My name’s Jessie. What’s yours, Bill? Is your name Bill?”

He nodded. He did not appear to notice she was suffering from momentary brain damage. She was so nervous. “I remember you,” he said. “You sit next to the girl who snores.”

What notoriety. “That’s me,” she gushed.

“Right.” He opened his car door. “See you around, Joan.”

“Jessie. Wait!”

He sat inside on the black leather upholstery. “Yes?”

“Ah—you were great last Friday, you know, in the game. I thought you were.” Tabb had lost sixteen to three. Bill had thrown only one interception and an equal number of completions.

“Thanks. Bye.”

“Bye. Would you like to go to a party?”

He shut his car door, rolled down his window. “What did you say?”

“My friend’s having a party. She gave me all these to pass out.” Jessica waved her half dozen invitations as if they might multiply into hundreds any second. “Would you like come? It’s not this Saturday, but next Saturday. In the evening.”

He took one of the envelopes, opened it, nodding as he read the contents. “Are you going to be there?” he asked.

“Sure, yeah. The whole time.”

He nodded again, tossing the card onto the passenger seat. “I’ll see you then.”

He drove away. Her approach had set women’s lib back twenty years, she realized. But she didn’t care! He had asked if she’d be there! He was only coming to see her!

Right, and your name’s Joan.

Jessica decided to dwell on the positive. It didn’t require much willpower. She floated back up the steps and into the courtyard. She bought a milk and sat by herself in the shade beneath a tree. Polly had specified on the cards that everyone was to bring a bathing suit. Jessica had a new bikini she could wear—blue with white polka dots. It left little to the imagination. Maybe he would bump up against her in the water…

If she went in the water. She’d almost drowned as a child in a backyard pool. She didn’t know how to swim.

Jessica looked up. Michael Olson was coming over to say hi. How sweet.

They were in the computer room. Nick was listening. Bubba was talking. Michael wanted to get it over with. They had finally decided to do it, Nick and himself. They were going to ask the girls out.

“It’s important you do everything in its proper order,” Bubba was saying. “Get her alone. Start a conversation. Bring up a movie. A movie doesn’t sound as heavy as dinner. Of course, once you’re on the date, you can always go to dinner. But it’s easy to work a movie into the conversation. Do each of you know what’s playing?”

“Yes,” Michael said.

“No,” Nick said, hanging on to Bubba’s every word. He had looked more relaxed during Kats’s holdup. Then again, Michael wasn’t exactly enjoying a period of low blood pressure. It struck him as ironic that the fear of one little word could have such an effect on two grown boys. Would you like to get together this weekend?

No.

A big little word.

“It doesn’t matter,” Bubba continued. “She’ll know what’s playing. Then ask if she’s busy this weekend. This is a better question than asking outright if she’d like to go out. It eliminates a possible objection before she can raise it.”

“But you asked Clair outright?” Michael said.

“Yes, but neither of you is Bubba. Now, after she has said no—”

“What if she is busy?” Nick interrupted.

“Then ask about another time. Don’t be discouraged if this weekend is not good. Even teenage girls have other commitments. But if she puts you off twice, then back off. Keep your dignity.”

“Go on,” Nick said.

“Arrange the date. Set a definite time and get her phone number and address. Be sure to paint a picture that the whole thing is casual. That way she’ll know how to dress without asking. Also, you don’t want her to think she’s overly important to you.”

“Get off it,” Michael said.

Bubba spoke seriously. “That may offend your romantic ideals, Mike, but it’s a fact the human animal only desires what it can’t have. Then, you have to make her feel wanted, but never
loved
. If she knows you can’t live without her, then she’ll also know she can see you whenever she wants. You want to operate from a position of strength. Always keep her in the dark, unsure of where she stands.”

“Go on,” Nick said again.

“That’s it, for now. When the date’s set, come back here and I’ll give you the next lesson: how to get her clothes off.”

“We have a problem,” Michael said. “Nick doesn’t have a car.”

“Let him borrow yours,” Bubba said.

“Then what is Mike supposed to use?” Nick asked.

“He can borrow my car. And I’ll get Clair to pick me up.”

“You’ll make her drive, and you don’t even have the concert tickets?” Michael asked.

Bubba smiled. “Mike, you worry about the most unimportant things.” He stood and slapped them both on the back. “Make me proud of you, boys.”

Michael and Nick left Bubba to his computers. Lunch was more than half over. They had to locate the girls quickly. They hurried toward the courtyard.

“Why are we doing this?” Michael muttered.

“We don’t have to,” Nick said with more than a note of hope in his voice.

“Let’s not start that again.” They had talked about this moment all weekend at work. Without this mutual encouragement, Michael realized, neither of them would have gotten this far. Yet Michael had another reason for having decided to ask Jessica out. He’d had a dream.

It had been beautiful. He had been on a roped bridge stretching between two lands, one a desolate desert, the other a lush green forest. There had been a churning river running beneath his feet, and above—in contrast to the brightly lit lands—a black sky adorned with countless stars. He had been standing in the middle of the bridge facing the desert, hesitating, when a female voice had spoken at his back.

“I will follow you,” she said. And when he started to turn around, she added quickly, “No, don’t. You can’t see me.”

“Why not?”

“Because of the veil. I’m still wearing it. But you’re young. Go forward, I will follow you.”

The desert beyond looked most unappealing, particularly compared to the green wood’s that he could glimpse out the corner of his eye. “Who are you?” he asked.

“You have forgotten.” There was no censure in her voice, only mild amusement and a rich, enduring love. Michael could almost, but not quite, figure out who it was. “It happens sometimes. It doesn’t matter. Just remember that I am behind you. That you can’t fall. No, don’t look down, either. Go forward.”

“Then can I see you?”

“Yes, but not today. Later, another time. I will see you first, and then we will meet again, like we always do. Go now, and don’t be afraid. You are my love, Michael Olson.”

And then he had woken up, and the stars outside were fading with the approaching dawn. He hadn’t gone back to sleep. He had just lain there feeling content. That had been Saturday morning.

The dream had left him with a measure of courage. Enough to risk the big No. Walking beside Nick, he continued to wonder who the girl had been.

They split up when they reached the center of campus. Nick had spotted Maria. She was by herself, next to the low adobe wall that surrounded Tabb. Michael wished him luck. He had to chuckle when Nick crossed himself.

Michael sighted Jessica minutes later. She was sitting alone beneath a tree, drinking a milk. And he had thought Nick superstitious; he would have recited a Hail Mary on the spot had he been able to remember the opening line. Jessica waved to him. He was trapped.

“How are you doing?” she asked as he approached. She looked positively radiant. Could she be this happy to see him?

“Fine. How about you?”

“Fantastic.” She patted the grass beside her. “Have a seat. I was just thinking about you today, in chemistry class.”

He sat down. The ground felt solid, better than his feet. “Really? I thought they only studied guys like me in psychology.”

She laughed, and he secretly congratulated himself on his witty remark. “No, I was remembering how you wrote the lab manual they use.”

Michael almost gagged. “Who told you that?”

She paused. “It’s not true?”

“No. All I did last year was discover a couple of procedural errors in the manual. I didn’t write it.” He smiled. “I am still in high school, after all.”

She laughed. “With your reputation, it’s hard to remember that.”

Michael had never thought of himself as having a reputation. “Are you having trouble in the class?” he asked.

She set down her milk, folded her hands between her bare legs. He couldn’t help noticing how much of her legs there was to notice. Nice skirt. Nice legs. “Yes,” she admitted quietly. “I think missing the first week has thrown me off. We had a quiz today, and I didn’t even know what the questions meant.”

“Did you flunk it?”

She giggled. “No, I got an A.” She continued in a serious voice, “No, I really am confused. And I was wondering if maybe you could possibly tutor me a tiny bit? I could pay you for your time and all.” She looked at him with her big brown eyes. “I really need the grade, Michael. My parents are on top of me all the time about my GPA.”

He couldn’t believe his luck. It almost seemed unnatural. A corner of his mind wondered if Bubba had not somehow set it up. “Sure, I could help you. But you wouldn’t have to pay me. I think you’ll catch on quickly, once you get used to the chemical language. Physics, calculus, chemistry—they all have a jargon that can be frightening at first. I sometimes think scientists keep it that way to make themselves look smart. Honestly, chemistry is as easy as basic math.”

“I have a lot of trouble with that, too.”

“When do you want to start?”

“I want to do something for you first.” She brightened. “I know what! I’ll take you to a movie. Yeah, that would be fair. I pay for the movie and you teach me about valence values. How does that sound?”

Michael had to take a breath. Very unnatural, this whole conversation. “I have some free time this Saturday. Can you get by in class until then?”

“Yeah, we won’t have another quiz that soon.” She pulled a pen from her purse, began to write on one of the funny orange envelopes by her side. “I’ll give you my number and address, and you give me yours. If you want, I can drive.”

“No, that’s OK, I have a car.” He would have a Jaguar Saturday night. He began to feel rather happy about the whole dating business. All these lonely years he had suffered in silence. There was nothing to it. All you had to do was decide to ask them out and then they asked you. Sure.

This won’t happen again in another three hundred years.

They exchanged the vital information. He noticed she lived in Lemon Grove. Big bucks. Maybe he wouldn’t tell her he had borrowed the Jag. He nodded to the orange envelope in his hand. “What is this?”

“Oh, an invitation to a party my friend’s having. Alice McCoy—I told you about her at the game? You’re welcome to come.”

His heart skipped as it had last Friday when she had mentioned Alice’s name. But this time the reasons were different. This time there was no reason at all, only the voice in the dream. “
I will follow you
.” Why would Alice have been standing behind him, covered in a veil? Even his subconscious should have a purpose in putting her there.

“Thanks.” He began to get up. He didn’t think he would go to the party. He would have to be Mr. Fantastic again. For now, he was doing all right as Michael Olson. He hadn’t seen Alice at school today. He hoped she wasn’t sick. “I’ve got to go,” he said.

Jessica looked up, surprised, got slowly to her feet, brushing off her bottom. “I didn’t mean to keep you.”

“You haven’t. I’m not that busy. I’ll give you a call.”

She smiled. “Or leave me a note in our locker. I seem to keep missing you between classes.”

He had missed her on purpose today. “We’ll talk he said, turning away. “Take it easy.”

“Bye!”

He wanted to be happy. He had been looking forward to this moment—he had better be happy. He was going out with Jessica Hart, he told himself. She was sweet, beautiful, charming. He had her number. She needed him. Bubba would be proud of him…

Do you want her to need you? Or to care about you?

He decided, as long as he got to see her, he didn’t care.

He hoped Nick was all right.