There were no more daytime or nighttime parties at Jacinta Trimalchio’s house that summer. For a brief flicker of a moment, her evening soirees were the talk of the town, and she was the queen of the teen social world. Then, just as swiftly as she’d grabbed the crown, she gave it up. I saw her, but only through the kitchen window. She was often on the back deck with Delilah, always under her blue parasol, while Delilah baked to a perfect golden crisp. Other times they played badminton or croquet or floated around the river pool on a raft built for two. Sometimes I could tell that they were holding hands. They didn’t invite me to join them.
I also saw less of Jeff over the next couple of weeks. Partly, it was because summer golf league had kicked into high gear and he was super-busy. The summer golf league was something that kept the boys from the city prep schools occupied during their time in the Hamptons, something that kept their game sharp and their bodies active—or, at least, that was Jeff’s explanation. But a pastime had changed with us. I figured I could spend the extra alone time getting back into my SAT book.
The one time my mother was around during those two weeks, she expressed concern that I was hanging out with neither Jeff Byron nor Delilah Fairweather nor “the famous girl next door,” but I told her we were all just busy doing our own things. And I guess that was true.
Then one day, while I was sitting on the back deck reading this old novel, Save Me the Waltz, I saw a white-blond head pop up.
“Naomi!” Jacinta cried happily. She fairly bounced up the stairs to the deck, immediately wrapping me in one of her tight hugs. I hugged her back and then went and got us both some of the lemonade I’d made that morning.
“I came to invite you to dinner at Delilah’s house tomorrow night,” Jacinta said breathlessly. “She’s having you, me, Jeff, and Teddy.”
“Isn’t that going to be a little awkward?” I said.
Jacinta shook her head vigorously. “Not at all,” she said. “She’s only inviting him because she can’t not invite him if she’s inviting Jeff, and she wants to invite Jeff because she wants to invite you, and she can’t not invite Jeff if she’s inviting you.”
I tried to follow her social calculus, but all I could come up with was, “Okay.”
“Can you keep a secret?” Jacinta asked with a tantalizing grin. “You know I can. I haven’t breathed a word of what you told me about that waitress, love. Not a word.”
“Yes,” I said. “Tell me what’s up.”
“She’s going to break up with him tomorrow night.” Jacinta burst forth as if it were the greatest news ever told. “Not at the dinner, of course—afterward, after we’ve all left. She’s going to end it with him for real.”
“Woooow,” I said, absorbing the information. “She’s finally dumping him? After, what, like a zillion years?”
“She’s realized she deserves to be treated better,” Jacinta said. “She’s realized she deserves everything she’s ever dreamed of. Besides, she’s going to break so huge at Fashion Week this year that she won’t need him, or her family’s money, or anything. She’ll be booked for months, and the months will turn into years, and she’ll make so much money as a supermodel.”
“As a supermodel,” I repeated dubiously.
“She’s going to finish out her senior year at Trumbo, and then we’re going to rent an apartment together in Brooklyn.”
“Together? In Brooklyn?” I tried to picture Delilah Fairweather living in, or even going to, Brooklyn. It was an image I couldn’t summon no matter how hard I tried.
Jacinta was still talking. “. . . and we’ll have a garden in the backyard to grow some of our food, and of course, if she wants to go to college, she can go to NYU or Columbia, and I’ll keep up with my blog and I’ll be much closer to the designers, being in New York instead of Florida.”
“Florida?” I was confused. “Why would you be in Florida?”
Jacinta looked flustered. “Oh—um—well, you know, Miami is one of the fashion capitals of the world. I was thinking of spending some time down there to, you know, enjoy the weather.”
“Okay,” I said. “So, Brooklyn, then. With Delilah. In an apartment. Together.”
“Yes,” she said confidently. “We’ve figured it all out.”
“And until then, you’ll . . . what, live in the city?”
Her bright smile dimmed a bit. “That part I’m not quite sure about. Delilah’s going to see if I can stay in one of their spare rooms for a while.”
“And do her parents . . . know about you two?”
“They know we’re friends. That’s all they need to know. And they’ll come around eventually, once they do know.”
“Right,” I said, even though she was so obviously, utterly, completely wrong. “I noticed you haven’t had any parties lately. Is that because of Delilah?”
“Sort of. I just don’t want too many people asking questions. It’s very important to her that it stays as private as possible. It’s different for her than it is for me. I don’t have any—my parents couldn’t care less. They’re fine with whatever I do. Very European attitude. But her parents are more—opinionated. Conservative.”
“Of course,” I said. I had a very strong feeling that Senator and Mrs. Fairweather would prefer to be swallowed whole by a monster than to have their picture-perfect, all-American image besmirched by a lesbian daughter. But I wasn’t about to say so to Jacinta.
“I’ve even let my housekeeper go. I just want to have as much time with Delilah as I can before the summer is over.”
“So who cleans the house?”
She laughed. “Um . . . no one, really. But there are only two of us ever there, so it hasn’t gotten too messy just yet.”
Her phone buzzed. She looked at it, and her face lit up. “Delilah will be over soon,” she announced, as if I wouldn’t know who was texting her. “I’d better get back. But you’ll come tomorrow night? To Delilah’s house, at seven?”
“Of course,” I said. “It’ll be good to see Jeff, too. I haven’t seen him as much since the summer golf league started. He’s busy practically every day.”
“Then we’ll all have a wonderful time,” Jacinta said. She kissed me on the top of my head before bounding across the lawn, back to her castle.
Once Jacinta was safely out of earshot, I actually dialed Skags. She picked up.
“Hello, trust-fund baby,” she said, yawning. “Thanks for remembering I exist.”
I felt bad, but I didn’t know what to say. So I pretended I hadn’t heard the last part. “You sound like you just got out of bed.”
“I’m still in bed. I was out all night with Jenny Carpenter.”
“Doing what?”
“Driving along the lake.”
“What?!”
“You heard me. Driving along the lake. What’s weird about driving along the lake?”
“With Jenny Carpenter? Only, like, eighteen thousand things.”
“Well, she’s actually very smart and interesting,” Skags said primly. “There’s a lot going on underneath the surface there.”
“Skags,” I said. “She’s a cheerleader.”
“That’s just because she’s really interested in dance. Experimental dance, actually. Have you ever heard of this group Pilobolus? They’re a modern dance troupe out of the Northeast somewhere, maybe Yale or something, and they do the most amazing stuff. We watched all these YouTube videos about them at Jenny’s house the other day.”
“At Jenny’s house?” My world was spinning. “Jesus Christ, is everyone a lesbian now?”
“Yes, Naomi,” Skags said. “Everyone is a lesbian now. Except for you, the lone straight person carrying the banner of heterosexuality forward for the sake of the future of the human race. You’re like a saint. A really boring, heteronormative saint. Who goes to fancy parties and never calls me.” Again, I decided to ignore the jab. She was completely right, after all. And apparently, while I’d been ignoring her, Jenny Carpenter had been doing the exact opposite.
“You are not gonna believe what happened here the other night,” I said.
“Does it involve that one girl queering off with the other girl?”
“Well—yeah. How did you know that?”
“Duh. Anyone could see that was going to happen.”
“Really?”
“Oh, totally. Now give me all the details.”
I explained as much as I could while Skags listened. By the time I was done, she’d reached a conclusion.
“Oh, they’re not really gay,” she said.
“Since when are you the authority on gay?” I asked, even though Skags pretty much was the authority on gayness, at least at our school.
“No offense, Naomi, but you don’t know anything about women.”
“I am a woman,” I said defensively.
“The point is that I understand chicks better than you do. And what Delilah and Jacinta have is not a real relationship. They are mutually obsessed. Well, Jacinta is obsessed with Delilah, and Delilah is also obsessed with Delilah, so it all works out for them.”
“I’m pretty sure they have sex,” I said.
“Okay, can I get real with you for a second? If they do have sex—and I really doubt they do, given Republican Barbie’s natural inclination toward straight white douches like her dad—it is all Jacinta doing stuff to Delilah.”
“Eww,” I said. “TMI.”
“How is it TMI?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t want to picture it.”
“Well, I’m sorry I offended your delicate Wasp sensibilities, but that’s my take on it. Jacinta wants to be Delilah, and Delilah wants to be worshipped. I gotta go—Jenny and I have a tennis date.”
“Have you guys even, like, kissed yet?” I asked, even though I didn’t usually like to know the details of Skags’s encounters (I still kind of thought of her as a little kid, even though we were obviously all grown up).
“I’m not going to go into that with you, Naomi,” Skags said airily. “It’s not like you’ve been particularly interested in what’s going on with me this summer. I haven’t even told you about my plans for the all-school LGBTQ BBQ in September, or the fact that I’ve basically locked down an internship with the mayor’s office this fall.”
“That’s awesome,” I said sincerely.
“It is,” Skags said. “And I’m not going to share any more information with you.” I could tell she really was a little hurt, but I knew she’d forgive me.
“That’s fine,” I said. “Feel free to continue not sharing the fact that you’ve turned Jenny Carpenter into a total lesbian.”
“Jenny Carpenter was already a total lesbian,” Skags said fondly. “I just helped her to see it.”
We got off the phone, and I marveled at my friend’s powers of persuasion. I didn’t see Skags as sexy at all—she was a girl who looked and dressed like a boy, and besides, she was my funny best friend. But apparently, she held some kind of fascination for a certain kind of young lady. And now I knew Jenny Carpenter, of all people, was that kind of young lady.
The next day was a real scorcher. You know those hot summer afternoons when you look into the distance and it’s all hazy and wavy because of the heat rising from the pavement? Or those days when you can sense the heat inside somehow, even with all the air-conditioning? It was that kind of day. My mother popped in, presumably to check that her daughter was still alive, and grabbed a few things before zooming back to the city.
“Nice to see you, stranger,” I said before she left.
“Why, Naomi,” she said, half turning toward me. “You’d almost think you missed me.”
I didn’t say anything, which pleased her. I didn’t miss her, not exactly, but it might’ve been nice to have another time like the one we had at the nail salon. Not that I’d want to plan it out or anything, but if we happened to run into each other for more than five minutes, it might be okay to hang out a little. Maybe.
Then again, I reflected, she’d probably end up saying something to piss me off. So maybe it was better that we weren’t up each other’s butts that summer.
Jeff came over to pick me up for dinner, and I was already nervous for what was about to transpire. When we got into his car to go over to Delilah’s house, we looked at each other.
“This is gonna be so weird,” I said.
He grinned. “I know. I kind of can’t wait.” He rubbed his palms together, and I laughed a little, uncomfortably. Was it too late to fake a stomachache and curl up with my book for the night?
When we got to Delilah’s house, a butler let us in with apologies. “I’m afraid the air-conditioning is broken,” he said, wiping his brow. “We’ve got fans going everywhere, but it’s not the most comfortable situation. Senator and Mrs. Fairweather, thankfully, are at the townhouse in the city, but the rest of us have got to suffer out here.” He sighed and shook his head, then led us to the enormous living room, where Jacinta and Delilah were perched on either end of the couch, wearing nearly identical white cotton sundresses. Of course, Jacinta accessorized hers with a funky white headband covered in big red felt flowers, but other than that, their outfits were almost exactly the same. They had each kicked their shoes off, and when we walked in, they were holding hands along the back of the couch.
“Heeeeeey, you two,” Delilah said when we entered the room. She was higher than I’d ever seen her before. I wouldn’t say she was stoned out of her mind, but her eyes were red and she had that goofy marijuana-induced smile on her face. Smoking weed doesn’t make people nasty or violent the way alcohol can, but it certainly lowers their IQ temporarily.
Teddy walked in then, and Delilah dropped Jacinta’s hand.
“Hello, TV staaaar,” Delilah said, her voice thick with sarcasm. “How are things?”
Teddy peered at her, then rolled his eyes.
“Well, at least one of us is having fun,” he said. Jacinta studied her hands.
Teddy’s cell buzzed. He checked the incoming number.
“I need to take this,” he said abruptly, and walked outside.
We watched him through the living room windows. He stalked up and down the front lawn in the blistering heat, gesticulating wildly, first barking angrily into the phone and then appearing to become conciliatory, even friendly.
“Could he please make it more obvious?” Delilah said loudly. “He doesn’t need to actually talk to her right in front of my face. In front of my guests.”
She looked at Jacinta, who nodded her agreement. Delilah’s expression softened, and she leaned over and planted a big kiss on Jacinta’s mouth. Jeff looked at me in surprise. I think the reality of seeing these two girls kiss was less sexy than he’d imagined.
“I just love you,” Delilah said to Jacinta.
Jacinta blushed. Delilah looked at us expectantly for our reaction, but we gave none. Maybe it was too hot for us to summon any response. Or maybe we were just shocked they were being out in the open like this.
His phone call over, Teddy walked back into the house.
“Dammit,” he said when he entered the living room. “It’s almost as hot in here as it is outside. This reminds me of being under the studio lights when I was on—”
“Teddy, my sweetest and most precious darling,” Delilah said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s so powerfully hot. I don’t want to make the cook turn on the oven. He’ll sweat to death.”
“That’s his job,” Teddy said. “He’s the cook. Kitchens get hot. If you can’t take the heat, get your ass out of the kitchen!” He chortled, deeply amused at himself.
“I think we ought to go out to eat,” Delilah insisted.
“I thought we were going to have a nice night in,” Teddy said. “With old friends and—her.” He cast Jacinta a withering glance. She seemed to withdraw into herself like a flower closing its petals at nightfall.
“Don’t talk to her that way,” Delilah said.
“What way?” Teddy asked. “I was just pointing out that you and I and Jeff and Naomi have known each other for a while, while Jacinta is—new.” He said “new” as if he meant to say another, meaner word.
“Let’s go to Baxley’s,” Delilah suggested with a bright, false smile. “There’s so much good food, and I know you love the service you get there, Teddy.” She glared at him, daring him to reply.
“I do,” Teddy said. He smiled smugly. “And it’s a lot friendlier than what I’m used to getting around here.” Delilah narrowed her pretty blue eyes.
I cast a sidelong look at Jeff, who appeared to not be enjoying himself as much as he’d predicted when we were in the car. At any rate, his friend Teddy had won that round by basically openly and shamelessly acknowledging what Delilah was implying.
“You—” Delilah began, and then Jacinta put her hand on her arm gently. The touch seemed to soothe Delilah, who immediately stopped speaking and looked at Jacinta gratefully. Jacinta’s smile seemed to warm her and relax her. She smiled back appreciatively.
At this, Teddy’s expression darkened considerably. Whatever ground he’d gained was lost the moment Jacinta’s hand touched his girlfriend’s forearm. His hulking body tensed. I don’t think it was the touch that angered him, per se—it was the clear evidence that theirs was a world from which he was barred entry. It was fine if other people couldn’t get between his girlfriend and this superfan blogger, but he should always be assured his place. I imagined he thought that if he couldn’t even get a threesome out of it, clearly their relationship had no purpose other than to irritate him.
“Let’s go to Baxley’s,” he said, turning his back to them. “Right now. I’m hungry.”
Thankfully, we were saved the heinous awkwardness of traveling as a group. As we tried not to melt in the heat, Teddy directed the group.
“Jacinta and Delilah, you go in Jacinta’s car,” he ordered. “Jeff, Naomi, and I will take mine.”
“Sounds perfect to me,” Delilah said coolly.
“I’m sure it does,” Teddy retorted.
We waited while they took off in Jacinta’s little white convertible, and then Teddy looked at Jeff and me.
“Do I have a story for you two,” he said. “Let’s go.”
The ride to Baxley’s wasn’t long, but every second of it was infused with so much tension that it seemed much longer.
“I got in touch with my family’s PI,” Teddy began. Jeff, in the seat beside him, nodded.
“What’s a PI?” I asked, even though I really didn’t want to find out.
“Private investigator,” Teddy said.
“Your family has its own private investigator?” I asked. “Why?”
“People make threats against our family all the time,” he said, and I couldn’t tell if he was bragging or just stating the facts. “Extortion, kidnapping, you name it.”
“Kidnapping?”
“Yes. The countries in which we do business aren’t exactly the safest places for foreigners, at least in some cases. My father travels with an armed guard whenever he goes to the Middle East for Barrington Oil, for example—or hell, even when he goes to Mexico City. But there are problems at home as well.”
“Like what?”
Teddy glanced briefly into the rearview mirror, and his eyes met mine for a moment. “Let’s just say there are plenty of people who would do anything to get their hands on whatever money they think we’ve got at our disposal,” he said. “They’ll come up with every kind of accusation you can imagine. Our PI helps us to know if we can trust the people with whom we’ve come into close contact.”
“You ever investigate me?” Jeff joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Unnecessary,” Teddy said seriously. “You and your family are a known entity with no motivation to harm my family.”
“So what’d you talk to your PI about?” Jeff asked, sounding confused.
“That dyke who’s obsessed with my girlfriend,” Teddy said. “That’s what I talked to him about.”
Now, there are a few ways you can say “dyke.” I’ll focus on two: the nice way and the not-nice way. Skags will sometimes refer to herself as a dyke, and she means it in a proud way. She says she’s reclaiming a word that has been used against her. Teddy was using it in the not-nice way. Something in the way he spat the word out seemed to imply that Jacinta was disgusting, unwomanly, and fundamentally unworthy of knowing Delilah. Or Teddy, I suppose.
As an ally member of our school’s LGTBQ group, I know it’s my job to stand up for gays and lesbians when they aren’t there to stand up for themselves. I know I’m supposed to be unafraid of criticism from someone so crappy.
But Teddy was driving, and Teddy was in charge, and Teddy was in a mood that kind of scared me. I figured it was better for me to keep my mouth shut than risk getting on his bad side. Who knows, maybe he would’ve booted me out of the car or something. I certainly knew he wasn’t afraid to hurt girls.
“She’s not who she says she is,” Teddy said. “Her name isn’t even Jacinta.”
“What do you mean, her name isn’t even Jacinta?” Jeff asked. “Is she one of those girls who goes by her middle name or something?”
Teddy laughed sardonically. “Not even, bro,” he said. “It goes way deeper than that.”
“For real?” Jeff’s eyes grew big. “C’mon, man, spill it.”
There was an uneasy silence.
“Uh, are you gonna tell us or what?” Jeff asked, sounding impatient.
Teddy smiled cunningly. “Soon enough,” he said. “Soon enough.”
I made a mental note to get Jacinta alone as soon as possible. Maybe I could do it sometime during dinner. I figured maybe, somehow, I could get her out of there and back to her house before Teddy flipped out on her.
When we got to Baxley’s, the girls were waiting in a booth and Misti was nowhere in sight. I saw Teddy’s eyes dart around the place, and an expression of consternation briefly passed over his face when he saw Giovanni walking up to take our order.
“You’re not a waiter,” Teddy blurted out before Giovanni could say anything.
Giovanni nodded. He looked pale beneath his tan, and his eyes were ringed with dark shadows, as if he hadn’t slept. Even his gait was different. He walked listlessly, with no spirit. I wondered if he was sick.
“We’re short one tonight,” he said. His voice was hollow.
“Where’s Misti?” Teddy asked. Delilah rolled her eyes and looked at Jacinta, who rubbed her back with one hand.
“She’s gone,” Giovanni said. His voice caught in his throat, and he coughed a little.
“What do you mean, she’s gone?”
“I mean she’s gone, man. Fired. We’re heading back to Babylon tomorrow. Gonna work in our parents’ bakery for the rest of the summer.”
Teddy looked shocked. “Fired for what?”
Giovanni heaved a sigh and looked down at the floor. “Throwing a bottle at a coworker.”
You could see Teddy begin to panic. “Who?”
“Me.”
“Why?”
Giovanni looked grim. “I found out some stuff,” he said.
“What stuff?” Teddy demanded. “What kind of stuff?”
“She was messing around on me,” Giovanni said, avoiding Teddy’s gaze. “She was up to some stuff. I found out, and I told her, and she flipped. Threw a bottle of beer at me in front of some club members. Manager tossed her out right away. I said I’d take her shift tonight and that we’d both be gone tomorrow.”
“Do you know who the guy was?” Delilah asked in an innocent voice. It was a cruel question and we all knew it.
Giovanni looked directly at her.
“I don’t,” he said. “But if I ever found out, I’d take him apart.”
It was clear then to all of us that he was telling the truth. He really didn’t know who Misti’s other man was. Maybe he didn’t even suspect Teddy, poor guy. Teddy’s face was a churning mixture of misery, fear, sadness, and anger. Every few seconds, a new emotion seemed to flash across his face. In that moment, I actually felt a little sorry for him. But I felt more strongly than before that I needed to save Jacinta somehow, before . . . well, I didn’t know exactly what.
“Jacinta,” I asked abruptly. “Do you want to come to the bathroom with me?”
Delilah looked at me from beneath heavy eyelids. “It’s only a one-person bathroom,” she said. “You two aren’t that close, are you?” She laughed a little, and Jacinta smiled.
“Where’s your girl now, man?” Jeff asked Giovanni.
“Dunno,” Giovanni said, shrugging. “She took off on her bike. Hasn’t been answering my calls. We stay not too far from here, so maybe she’s packing. I’ll see her when I see her.”
“You’re going to stay together?” Delilah asked, raising an eyebrow. “If I found out someone was cheating on me, I just don’t know what I’d do.” Teddy looked at her sharply, but she ignored him.
“We just need some time,” Giovanni said, as if trying to convince himself. “It’s different here, away from our friends and our family. She gets caught up in stuff sometimes. It’ll be better when we get home.”
“Well, I hope things work out for you,” Delilah said. “She seems like a wonderful girl.”
“She is,” Giovanni said, smiling a little. “She really is. Anyway, what do you guys want to drink?” He looked around for a moment and lowered his voice. “Anything you want. It’s my last night here.”
Jeff grinned gleefully. “Then keep the bourbon coming, my good man,” he said.
“You care what kind?”
“Surprise me.” Jeff elbowed me and smiled. I looked at him like he had two heads. Delilah had morphed into some kind of evil ice princess, Jacinta looked terrified, and Teddy was falling apart before our very eyes. How could Jeff suddenly be Mister Chipper just because he was getting to drink bourbon in public?
My father told me once that people don’t change—they just reveal more of who they really are. If that was true, then I was starting not to like who Jeff Byron really was.
We all ordered drinks then. Well, only four of us ordered alcohol—rum and Coke for Delilah, vodka sodas for Teddy and Jeff, water for Jacinta. I ordered red wine, which my mother will sometimes have “to soothe her nerves.” When she’s really, really stressed, she does what Skags and I have dubbed a Xanaxtini—a couple of pills with red wine to wash it down. She’s not some kind of stereotypical pill popper, but once in a while, I think the stress of being Anne Rye, the brand, gets to her.
Jeff managed to draw Teddy into a discussion about the upcoming football season, while Delilah, Jacinta, and I spoke about Delilah’s plans for Fashion Week. I honestly couldn’t tell you what they were, because I was acutely aware of the tension hanging in the air. I felt like I was play acting a conversation rather than actually tuning into what Jacinta and Delilah were saying. It was as if I were an extra in some movie about the world’s most effed-up love triangle—or maybe, if you added Misti, it was a square?
We were a couple of rounds in when a doleful Giovanni brought us tequila shots and limes.
“On the house,” he said.
“Hey, thanks, man,” Jeff said.
“No problem,” Giovanni said. “You guys are good customers.” He reached over to fist-bump Jeff, so then Teddy had to do the same thing, while Delilah mimed throwing up under the table and Jacinta tried not to giggle.
“You do a shot, too, man,” Teddy said solemnly. “You deserve it.” Delilah snorted, and Teddy glared at her.
So we all did shots together—even Giovanni. I think if his manager had shown up, he would’ve gotten in a lot of trouble, but it was a busy night and nobody was paying much attention to us.
Giovanni left the table, and Delilah immediately began cracking up. I don’t know what usually happens when you combine a ton of marijuana with alcohol, but in Delilah’s case, it meant she was suddenly amused by absolutely everything. Jacinta looked at her and smiled fondly, and Delilah held her gaze for a long moment before bursting into another fit of giggles. Jacinta started giggling, too, and that’s when Teddy looked right at her and said, “So when do you head back to Florida?”
Jacinta fell silent while Delilah kept giggling.
“It’s gotta be pretty humid this time of year,” Teddy said.
“Uh-oh,” Delilah said, tittering. “He’s starting in on something. Everybody get out of the way.”
“Does your grandparents’ apartment have air-conditioning?” Teddy continued, never taking his eyes off Jacinta. I peered at her through my wine-and-tequila haze and watched all the blood drain from her face.
“Teddy,” Delilah said, her Marilyn Monroe voice even breathier than usual. “Are you trying to start a fight? There’s no fighting at Baxley’s. Baxley’s is for lovers.” She sent herself off into another fit of giggles. I watched with growing alarm, while Jeff displayed increasing interest as Jacinta and Teddy stared at each other.
“You know she’s a fraud, right?” Teddy said to Delilah, finally breaking eye contact with Jacinta. “You know she’s a liar.”
“Shut up, you idiot,” Delilah laughed.
“I’m not kidding, Delilah!” Teddy hissed. She quit giggling.
“What are you even talking about?” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Your girlfriend here,” he said, jerking his thumb at a frozen Jacinta. “I’m talking about this girl. You know her name’s not even Jacinta Trimalchio? She made it up.”
“So what?” Delilah challenged him. “So what if she made it up? You go by Teddy and your real name is Alistair Theodore.”
“It’s not like that, Delilah,” Teddy said. “She’s Adriana DeStefano. You remember that girl?”
At this, Jacinta stood up, knocking her glass of ice water into my lap. I jumped, wincing at the coldness.
“I’m so sorry,” Jacinta said to me, handing me her cloth napkin. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine,” I said. “Of course you didn’t.”
“I don’t want to stay here,” Jacinta said. I don’t think any one of us wanted to stay there. Yet still there we remained, pinned to our booth by some immovable force.
Teddy and Delilah glared daggers at each other from across the table.
“I know who she is,” Delilah spat. “You think I wouldn’t know my old best friend?”
Teddy seemed momentarily startled. “You knew?”
“Of course I knew! No—Jacinta, sit down. It’s all right.” Gingerly, Jacinta sat.
“Of course I knew,” Delilah continued airily, putting a protective arm around Jacinta. “She told me herself. So what?”
“Who is Adriana DeStefano?” I whispered to Jacinta.
For a moment, silence. And then—
“I am, Naomi,” Jacinta said quietly, looking down at the table. “That’s my real name.”
“She’s from Staten Island,” Teddy said, his voice dripping with acid. “Her father was a federal contractor. Bought his way into Trumbo. Into our world.”
“Whose world?” I asked, hopelessly confused.
“Ours,” Teddy said. “You know. Mine and Delilah’s and Jeff’s and—ours. People who come to Baxley’s. People like us.”
He may as well have just come out and said it: the right kind of people.
“She’s a fraud just like her father,” Teddy said. He slammed his hand down on the table. “She’s a psycho and a fraud!”
“Teddy!” Delilah hissed. “Do not speak about her father that way. She never did anything to you, and neither did he.”
“She never did anything?” Teddy repeated, astonished. “She never did anything to me? Are you out of your mind?” He was yelling now.
A manager hurried over and said, “Is everything all right here?”
“Everything’s fine,” Teddy snapped. “We’re fine.”
“Please try to keep your voice a little lower,” the manager said politely. Then he backed away.
“Yes, Teddy, do shut up,” Delilah said.
“You used to go to Trumbo?” I asked Jacinta. “You never told me that. Or your real name.” I couldn’t help but feel a little—well, maybe “betrayed” isn’t quite the word, but you’d think Jacinta would’ve trusted me enough to tell me this stuff.
“That day when you came to my house,” I said to Delilah. “You knew who she was?”
“Not until you left the room,” Delilah said without taking her eyes off Jacinta. “Then she told me.”
I exhaled slowly. It was starting to make a kind of creepy sense now. All I wanted to do was zap myself home to Chicago and tell Skags everything.
Jacinta opened her mouth and then closed it without saying anything. Her green eyes were big and watery.
“There’s plenty she didn’t tell you, Naomi,” Teddy said. “Like how the feds put her father away for selling busted body armor to the army. Or how her family lost everything but her trust fund—which, as far as I can tell, is how she’s been funding this whole summer. Or how she’s basically just a freak blogger from Florida.”
“Why do you keep talking about Florida?” Delilah demanded. “She’s not from Florida. She has nothing to do with Florida.”
Teddy’s eyes widened. A slow smirk spread across his face.
“Oh, interesting,” he said. “So she hasn’t told you everything.”
“Yes she has!” Delilah said, loudly and fiercely enough for neighboring tables of diners to look over curiously.
“Really,” he said. “Tell me all about Jacinta Trimalchio, then.”
“Please don’t,” Jacinta said faintly. “Please, just—please.”
“After the trouble with her father, her mother took her to Europe,” Delilah said staunchly. “That’s where she grew up. Swiss boarding school. She started blogging because she missed it here and she loves fashion. She’s always loved fashion. We used to dress up together when we were little.” She grabbed Jacinta’s hand and looked at Teddy defiantly.
“See,” she said. “I know everything. And I still love her. I love her more than I’ve ever loved you. She understands me.”
Teddy laughed scornfully. “You know nothing,” he said. “And you don’t love her. You don’t even know her. She’s been feeding you bullshit and you swallowed it whole. After her dad went to jail, she and her mother moved to a shitty little town in Florida to live with her grandparents. Her mother’s been a stripper for years. My PI saw her dance. She gave him a lap dance, in fact.”
Jacinta buried her head in her hands.
“Oh, don’t do that, Jacinta,” Teddy said with faux sympathy. “He said she’s quite good.”
“Th-that’s not true,” Delilah said. “You’re lying.”
“This guy has worked for my family since I was a kid,” Teddy said. “He doesn’t lie about lap dances.”
“You pig,” Delilah snapped. “You know that’s not what I mean. She grew up in Europe, not Florida. Didn’t you, Jacinta?”
Jacinta kept her head buried in her hands, not responding.
“Didn’t you?” There was a note of desperation in Delilah’s voice. Jacinta’s answer, when it came, was very small and quite muffled.
“No,” Jacinta said.
Delilah sat back in her chair, visibly shocked. I cast a quick, begging look at Jeff, who was watching the scene unfold with rapt attention. I wanted no part of any of this.
“No?” Delilah repeated.
“No,” Jacinta said, raising her head up. Her face was stained with tears and with the mascara that was running down her cheeks.
“He’s right,” Jacinta said. “I didn’t go to Swiss boarding school. I haven’t been to Europe since my father took us to visit his family in Italy when I was five.”
Delilah just looked at her, mouth slightly open.
“Our housekeepers used to bring us to school together. I didn’t recognize you at all,” Jeff said with fascinated awe.
“Well, the nose job probably threw you off,” Teddy said snidely. “That’s new. She got it when she got her trust fund. Eighteenth birthday.”
“Jesus!” Jacinta burst forth, her eyes fiery with anger. “What are you, some kind of stalker?”
“I think that’s your job description,” Teddy said. “Along with con artist. So you lied to everybody about your name and where you came from, and even when you told Delilah the ‘truth’ about where you’ve been for the past seven years, it was still a lie. What else did you make up?”
Jacinta looked at Delilah, who was now staring at her hands. Then she looked at Teddy.
“It’s over, Adriana,” Teddy said, his voice thick with satisfaction.
Jacinta turned back to Delilah in a panic.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about where I really grew up,” Jacinta said quickly. “I’m really sorry. It was just . . . it was such a bad time. It was so, so awful there. My stepfather . . . it was terrible. I wanted you to think I’d had a nice life. You don’t know what it’s been like the past seven years. . . .”
Delilah looked confused, which Teddy took as an invitation to speak again.
“We could sue you, you know,” he said to Jacinta, his voice rising with each word. “We could sue your ass off for fraud. It’s a family tradition, right?”
“Fuck you,” Jacinta said, loud enough to invite the attention of nearby diners. One couple scowled at her. Their blond twin little girls stared.
The manager hurried up again, this time accompanied by two valets.
“I think it’s time for all of you to go,” he said firmly. “I’m not sure what’s going on here, but it’s affecting the rest of the restaurant.”
“Don’t worry, man,” Teddy said, standing up and stretching lazily. “We’re going.”
The manager waited to lead us all out, with the valets bringing up the rear. Teddy followed the manager, walking with a jaunty bounce in his step, smiling and saying hi to acquaintances and family friends as if nothing were wrong. Jeff followed. Then came me, and then—whispering frantically back and forth the whole time—Delilah and Jacinta. I couldn’t catch what they were saying, and I couldn’t even really guess. I wanted to take them both aside and get the real story, but was there even a real story? Who exactly was conning who, anyway? My mind was whirling. I wanted to believe Jacinta wasn’t a total phony. She was still my friend, and she was obviously hurting.
We passed a dejected-looking Giovanni, who was wiping down the bar.
“Bad night for both of us, man,” Teddy said to Giovanni.
“I guess so,” he said in a dull voice.
By the time we got outside, other valets had already brought our cars around.
“You girls have a nice ride home,” Teddy said pleasantly, waving as they drove off with Jacinta in the driver’s seat. The manager stood outside uneasily for a moment before turning around and walking back into the restaurant.
“I’d say this calls for a cigar,” Teddy said, pulling two out of his back pocket.
“You had these the whole time, man?” Jeff asked, laughing. He took one from Teddy.
“I knew tonight was gonna be a celebration,” Teddy said, smiling. He looked at the valets. “It’s cool if we stay a little while, right? I just can’t smoke this in my car—my mom would freak out if she smelled smoke in it.”
“No problem, man,” said one of the valets. “Just, if my manager comes out, you’re probably gonna have to go.”
“Yeah, you’re gonna have a new manager on Monday,” Teddy said. “Trust me. I’ve got a couple of phone calls to make about tonight.”
“Fine with me, man,” another valet said. “That guy’s a dick, anyway.”
Teddy laughed and high-fived the valet, then turned to me.
“Sorry I don’t have an extra for you, Naomi,” he said.
“That’s fine,” I said, and wandered away while they puffed on their stogies. When would this nightmare of an evening end?
“Man,” I heard Jeff say to Teddy, “I knew Jacinta was weird, but I never would’ve predicted this. What are you gonna do?” Any sympathy he’d previously shown her seemed to have disappeared. Jeff’s alliance was clearly with Teddy.
“What am I gonna do?” Teddy repeated with a hard laugh. “Make sure everybody in this town knows exactly who she really is. You remember what it was like when we were kids. Her last name was like a curse word. All those stories in the papers, all those reporters outside Trumbo . . . she’ll be gone in no time. Back to the swamp she slithered out of.”
“Could you really sue her?” Jeff asked.
“You can sue anybody for anything,” Teddy said. “But she’s not worth it. As long as she gets out of here, everything’s fine.”
They went back and forth for a few more minutes about Jacinta the fraud, Jacinta the liar, Jacinta, Jacinta, Jacinta, as if I wasn’t even there. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to feel. Jacinta had lied to me and everybody else in town, but she wasn’t a monster.
Then the manager reemerged from the restaurant, his face livid.
“I told you all to get out of here,” he said.
Teddy chomped on his cigar and chuckled, turning his back to the guy.
“Hey, sir, we’re leaving,” Jeff said in a conciliatory tone. “Just taking a few minutes to have a cigar. We don’t want to cause any trouble.”
“You’ve already caused enough,” the manager said. “Now get in your car and leave.”
At this, Teddy whipped around, stomped over to the manager, and got right in his face.
“What’s your problem, bro?” Teddy shouted as Jeff tried to pull him off. “We’re not bothering anybody out here. You already ruined our dinner. Do you know who my father is?”
The manager, who was about five inches shorter than Teddy, drew himself up to his full height.
“I don’t care who your father is,” he said slowly and loudly. “I care about my customers. And you ruined your own dinner.”
Teddy reared back and shoved the man, hard. The manager stumbled backward and landed on his butt on the gravel driveway.
“Whoa, whoa,” Jeff said, pulling Teddy away. “C’mon, man. C’mon. We don’t need you to get arrested.”
“Like this loser would call the cops on me,” Teddy said. He spit on the ground.
The valets helped the manager to his feet.
“You’re banned from this restaurant, kid,” he said, his teeth gritted. “Don’t bother coming back to Baxley’s. I’ll talk to the club board of directors.”
“My father has a standing reservation,” Teddy shot back. “I’ll be back tomorrow if I want.”
Jeff looked at me urgently. “C’mon, Naomi,” he said. “Let’s get in the car. Teddy, let’s get in the car. We’re all getting in the car. I can drive.”
“I’m driving!” Teddy roared. “I’m the only one who drives this car!”
“Okay, buddy, okay,” Jeff said. “No worries, man. Let’s just get back to Delilah’s house.”
“I’ll take a cab, I think,” I said. One thing was clear: Teddy was still drunk, and I did not want to get in a car with him.
“You’ll get out of here immediately,” the manager said. “With them.”
It didn’t seem like I had much of a choice.
“Delilah,” Teddy muttered as we all got in the car. “Adriana DeStefano’s probably, like, wearing her skin by now. All Silence of the Lambs and shit. You seen Silence of the Lambs, Naomi?”
“No,” I said quietly. I kept thinking about what my dad had taught me: Never get in the car with a drunk driver. Call me. I’ll come pick you up. I won’t be mad. But my dad was far away now, and I wasn’t even sure where my mother was.
“You gotta watch Silence of the Lambs,” Teddy said over the noise of the engine. He gunned it and screeched out of the restaurant’s driveway. I fell back against the seat.
“Easy, bro,” Jeff said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Teddy shrugged it off.
“You telling me how to drive now, man?” Teddy asked.
“’Course not,” Jeff said.
“We all know what a great driver I am.” Teddy cackled. “Naomi!” he boomed, suddenly in good spirits again. “This guy ever tell you how many times he failed his road test?”
“No, he sure didn’t,” I said, gripping my knees. I’d been in a car with a speeding Teddy once before, but this time he was weaving back and forth a little bit as well.
“Three times!” Teddy yelled, laughing. “Three times!”
“Wow,” I said. “Three times. Well, I don’t even have my driver’s license.”
“How do you get around?” Teddy asked.
“I walk,” I said.
He thought that was the most amusing thing he’d ever heard.
“She walks!” he said to Jeff, laughing. “I love this chick! She’s hilarious!”
“She’s pretty funny,” Jeff said, smiling at me. I ignored him. I just wanted this night to be over already. More than anything else, I wanted to get home, call Skags up, and debrief her about the insane turn things had taken.
“If that psycho bitch is at Delilah’s house when we get back, I’m calling the cops,” Teddy vowed.
“I hear you, man,” Jeff said. “I just don’t know what they’d arrest her for.”
“Lying!” Teddy boomed. “Misleading honorable citizens!” He drove through a stop sign, and a car swerved to miss hitting him.
After a couple more minutes on Route 27, Dr. Zazzle’s billboard came into view. There was a commotion underneath it. In the twilight hour, it was a little hard to see what exactly was happening, but the flashing lights up ahead were unmistakable.
“Slow down, man, slow down!” Jeff said suddenly. “There are cops over there!”
Teddy laid on the brakes, and we were all jolted forward. He slowed to a crawl and turned his head, watching the scene with fascination. A police officer was interviewing a cyclist who was standing beside his bike. A little farther down, emergency workers rushed to load a twisted body onto a stretcher. A second officer watched over them as they worked.
“Looks bad,” Teddy said with evident excitement. “Let’s ask the cop what happened!”
“Bad idea, man,” Jeff said. “Just keep going.”
“No, no, we’re gonna stop,” Teddy said. “It’s like these old movies my cousin used to show me. Faces of Death. You got to see real car crashes on, like, the Autobahn and stuff. Nasty as hell.”
“This is sick,” I said as Teddy pulled over. “This is seriously sick.”
Teddy looked surprised.
“No, it’s not,” he said. “I just wanna know what happened.” With that, he bounded out of the car and over to the officer standing by the emergency workers.
“Let’s go after him,” Jeff said, sighing. “He does stuff like this when he’s drunk.”
“You go after him,” I said crossly. “I’m staying right here. He’s the psycho.”
“He’s just having a rough night,” Jeff said defensively. “He’s a good guy.”
I was about to unleash a few choice words about Jeff’s definition of a “good guy” when we heard a sudden wail behind us. We both twisted around and looked through the rear window. Teddy was on his knees, his head in his hands, while the officer bent down.
“Did that noise come from Teddy?” Jeff said, aghast. He leapt out of the car. I followed.
We ran up and heard the officer say, “Do you know her, son?” He had a soothing hand on Teddy’s back.
That’s when I saw the girl on the stretcher, her white collared shirt splattered with her own blood, half her face sheared off by the road. It was Misti.
Teddy shook his head back and forth, his hands covering his face. I gasped and balled my hands up into fists, as if the pressure of my nails digging into the soft skin of my palms could distract me from what I was seeing. Jeff leaned over and puked.
Then she—or what was left of her—was gone, shut inside the ambulance, which turned on its lights and screeched away from the roadside. The other officer finished up his interview and jogged over to where we stood. The first officer helped Teddy to his feet.
“Sh-she’s a server at Baxley’s,” Teddy said, his face ashen. “Her name is Misti.”
“We’ll go down the road and tell them,” one of the cops said.
“What happened?” Jeff asked weakly, wiping his mouth.
The other cop pointed to a mangled bicycle lying half-hidden by brush. “She was on her bike. Witness was a little far off but said a car came by, plowed into her, kept going.”
“She’s alive, though,” Teddy said shakily. “Right? She’s alive?”
“For now,” said the cop who’d been interviewing the witness. “Next twenty-four hours will be crucial. You know her family or any people we should contact?”
Teddy was silent.
“Just go tell everybody at Baxley’s,” Jeff said. “They’ll know what to do.”
The cops nodded and began to walk toward their squad car.
“What kind of car was it?” Teddy called, suddenly alert and in control again. His voice was steady. “The car that hit her. What kind of car was it?”
“White car,” said the cop who’d comforted Teddy. “Witness was too far off to note make or model. Said it was like a flash of white, and then it was gone.”
Teddy’s face hardened.
“Thank you, Officer,” he said tightly.
The other officer glanced back at him. “Hey, aren’t you the kid from, what was that show . . . ?”
Teddy smiled his gleaming white smile.
“Oh, Those Masons!” he said. “Yes, I am.”
The cops looked impressed.
“Great show,” said the one who’d recognized him. “Used to love that one.”
“Thanks,” Teddy said.
The officers waved goodbye and drove off. Teddy turned to us, his expression darkening.
“A white car,” he snapped. “Now, who do we know who has a white car?”
I couldn’t stand it anymore.
“You think it was Jacinta?” I burst out, my voice louder than I’d intended. “So everything’s her fault now? Just because she stole one of your girlfriends doesn’t mean she tried to kill someone.” For about a thousand reasons, I was livid. I wanted to smash in his stupid handsome face.
Teddy glared at me, and for a moment I thought he might hit me. Instinctively, I backed up.
Jeff stepped between us and put his hand on Teddy’s shoulder.
“Hey, man,” he said softly. “Hey. Just breathe. She didn’t know what she was saying. Let’s all just breathe for a minute.” Wordlessly, Teddy turned around and walked back to his car.
The drive to Delilah’s was completely silent. When we parked in the driveway, we all got out of the car. Teddy turned to face us. He was smiling.
“Want to come in for a drink?” he asked, as if nothing had happened. “Jeff? Naomi?”
Creeped out by yet another one of his rapid mood changes, I shook my head no. He looked at me curiously.
“Aww, c’mon,” Teddy said, patting me on the back. I shrank from his touch.
“No, thank you,” I said stiffly.
Teddy shrugged, waved goodbye, and walked into the house.
Jeff looked at me.
“What are you going to do, just sit out here?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “I’m going home.”
“How? I’m not good to drive yet.”
“Well, neither was Teddy, and we got home all right.”
“Just wait an hour,” Jeff said. “I’ll drink a club soda. I just don’t want to get a DUI.”
“I’m calling a cab,” I said, and turned to walk away. Jeff grabbed my arm and spun me back around. I jerked my arm out of his grasp.
“Don’t touch me,” I said coldly.
“What the hell happened?” he demanded. “Everything was fine and now you’re pissed at me? Let’s just go have a drink!”
I stared at him and realized he just didn’t get it. He didn’t understand why it was disgusting and awful to witness what we had witnessed—at the restaurant, and especially after—and just have a drink in some rich girl’s mansion as if everything were normal.
Without another word, I walked off, leaving him standing in the driveway, looking frustrated.
Delilah’s driveway was a long one, and gated—probably a quarter mile long. I’d gotten halfway down the driveway when I heard a rustling and a whisper from the bushes.
“Naomi! Naomi, over here.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin. Jacinta quickly stepped out of the bushes.
“Jesus, Jacinta. You scared the hell out of me.” I put my hand over my heart and took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking the leaves from her dress. “It’s just— I can’t leave Delilah alone. I have to make sure she’s okay.”
“So you’re hiding in the bushes.”
“I need to wait a little while before I drive home.”
“So where’s your car parked?”
“Not far from here,” she said uneasily, digging the toe of her pricey shoe into the ground. “Near the property. We ran into some trouble on the road on the way in, so we put the car someplace safe and walked the rest of the way.”
My heart sank.
“Ran into some trouble,” I said.
“Yes.”
“You mean you hit somebody.”
Jacinta looked ashamed. She was quiet for a moment.
“She was scared,” she finally said. “She’d been drinking and crying, and it was hard for her to see.”
“Who? Misti?” I asked.
She looked at me in confusion.
“No,” Jacinta said. “Delilah.”
“Delilah hit Misti?”
“No, Delilah was driving and—”
“But you drove away from Baxley’s.”
“Delilah said driving would help her calm down. We pulled over and switched seats, and then she went really fast, and then . . .” Jacinta stopped and twisted her hands together.
“It wasn’t her fault,” she said. “The bike came out of nowhere.”
“Misti’s bike,” I said. “Delilah hit Misti.”
Jacinta’s jaw dropped, and her enormous green eyes grew even bigger. She covered her mouth with her milky white hand.
“We saw them loading her into an ambulance,” I said. “Half her face was gone.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jacinta whispered. “We never saw who it was . . . oh, this is bad for Delilah. Oh God, this is bad for Delilah.”
“Bad for Delilah?” I wanted to smack her, almost the way I’d wanted to hit Teddy earlier. “Misti might die, Jacinta. Adriana. Whatever your name is. Somebody might die.”
Jacinta’s eyes lit up with strange hope. “But she’s not dead yet?” she asked feverishly. “She isn’t dead?”
I could’ve strangled her.
“No,” I said. “The cop said she’s alive. But if you could’ve seen her face—”
Jacinta exhaled slowly and said, “As long as she’s alive. Then it’s not as bad.”
“It looked pretty bad,” I said. “And you need to tell the police.”
“The police?” She looked horrified. “Me?”
“Jacinta,” I said, speaking slowly, as if to a small child. “It was your car. Everybody saw you drive away—me, Teddy, Jeff, the valets. Not Delilah. You.”
“You don’t believe me?” she asked, sounding crushed.
“Of course I believe you! But who do you think they’re going to come looking for first?”
Jacinta shook her head vigorously. “Delilah will give herself up,” she said. “She’ll tell the truth. Her father will get a good lawyer, and she’ll tell the truth and no one will get in trouble. It was an accident.”
“Jacinta, Delilah was drunk.”
“She wasn’t that drunk,” Jacinta said defensively. “No one can prove she was drunk.”
“Giovanni knows how much she had to drink,” I said. “You really think he’s going to lie for the girl who almost killed his girlfriend?”
“I’ll say she wasn’t drunk,” Jacinta said. “I’ll say he’s lying and she wasn’t drunk and the bike came out of nowhere and she was scared and it was an accident and that’s all there was to it. That’s the truth.”
“That’s not the truth,” I said.
“Yes it is!” she nearly shouted. “That’s what I’ll tell them and they won’t know any different and that makes it the truth!”
I rubbed my temples. I was beginning to develop the kind of headache that usually only happened when I read a book while riding in a car.
“We should both go home,” I said. “I’m calling a cab.”
“I’m staying here,” she said resolutely. “I need to be nearby in case Delilah needs me. I told her to call me if she needs me and I’ll be over right away.”
“How are you going to get home?”
“I’ll wait and see if she calls me. If she doesn’t, I’ll get a cab.”
I was quiet for a long moment, looking at her while she looked at Delilah’s hulking, enormous house in the distance.
“Okay,” I finally said. “I’m leaving. Just—text me when you get home, okay?” I wasn’t sure exactly why I still cared about this girl who had lied to me all summer, but there was something in me that believed in her, that wanted to see her win—whatever that meant.
“Sure,” Jacinta said without taking her eyes off the house.
I left her there, in the darkness, my way off the property lit by the late-summer full moon.