I arrive at 114 E. Macnamara Street and the front door is open. The house is huge and I knock politely on the door frame, unsure if I’m supposed to walk in or not. I don’t see a single person despite all the cars parked in the driveway.
I pad down a hall, my shoes sparkling with sequins that seem too dressed up. I look for Conner or Kurt or anyone, but all the main rooms are empty. I should have brought Lilith. She would yell loudly and storm this silence to find out where everyone is hiding. I run a hand through my blond ringlets, which I spent way too much time curling, and tell myself I don’t need Lilith. I can do this without her.
Laughter cuts through an open window and there are lights in the backyard. Conner didn’t mention that this was going to be a pool party, but it is. I find everyone in the pool house out back, wearing bathing suits and shorts. It’s so humid inside that I start to flush, the ceiling covered in a hundred panes of glass, all fogged with breath.
I take off my coat to deal with the heat, and a dizzy smell of coconut and marijuana seeds the air. Music plays, which sounds vaguely tropical, and people linger with tiny pink umbrellas in their drinks. One umbrella has fallen into the pool and is floating on the surface with its thin tissue paper soaked wet.
My dress is already damp, sweaty under my arms, and I lift my hair momentarily to get it off my neck. The hairspray lacquered all over the curls makes them sticky with frizz. I look for Conner, but he’s nowhere to be found, Kurt either, and I make a deal with myself to stay for at least half an hour. Or at least till Conner gets here. But the more I look around, the more I feel like I’ve crashed the party. And maybe that’s the gag. I show up uninvited and the joke’s on me.
No one’s in the pool, which I’m happy about. Only I overhear a girl behind me mention that it’s so hot that she and her friend ought to go skinny-dipping. I run a finger along the strap of my dress, not sure I should have worn it. I’d thought it was pretty when I put it on, with its off-white color and swirled rosettes. But the fabric is thin, layered with cheap chiffon that makes it soft and ruffled. If I did jump in that water with this dress on, all those layers would lie flat. They’d become pink as skin, and transparent.
Someone opens a side door to deal with the heat. It doesn’t help.
“I don’t think the AC’s really broken,” the girl behind me says with a snicker. “It’s a plot to get everyone naked.” I peek over my shoulder and she’s smiling like she thinks that would be fun. Her friend grabs a towel from a stack and tosses it at her, and the two stumble off giggling.
The surface of the pool is smooth, as still as the lake before Kurt and I dove under it with all our clothes on, like there was something beneath needing us to disturb it. I slip off my sequin shoe and dip a toe in the water. It’s warm, as hot as the room, and definitely heated. Only Kurt’s not here, and there’s no way I’m going into that pool.
“You need a beer.”
I turn to see Tommy Rhodes from the soccer team walking my way. He eyes my legs and smiles, but his lips are so thin they almost disappear. A group of soccer players hangs by the far side of the room, and I scan them for Conner and Kurt.
“What’s your poison?” Tommy asks, flashing yellow teeth, and I almost decline the drink, but no one else is talking to me.
“A beer’s fine,” I say, pulling my toes from the balmy water to follow him to the keg.
“You here with someone?” he asks, shooting liquid froth into a cup, only the whole thing overflows as he hands it to me, foam oozing over the rim and covering my knuckles. “Careful there,” he says, wiping the drippage, and somehow his other arm finds its way around me. I get a whiff of his BO laced with chlorine, and I adjust, trying to move out of his grip without being rude. But his arm squeezes my shoulders.
“Conner invited me to the party,” I say, hoping that makes him back off, but he nods like that make sense, and beer slops from my cup. It hits his shoe, beading up like globs of sweat. “Have you seen him?”
“Nah, I don’t think he’s here yet. Which is good for me.” He winks, and I don’t know how to untangle myself from him politely.
“Have you seen Kurt?” I try, hoping Kurt holds more clout than Conner, but Tommy shakes his head, or at least I think he does. It’s hard to tell, because his hand is on my neck.
I take a drink and look out the windows, but all the panes of glass are covered in steam. The beer is bitter and I consider spitting it on Tommy just to get him off me.
“Are you a natural blonde?” he asks, his hand in my hair.
I can’t breathe. It’s too hot and there’s creek water under my toes. I close my eyes and try to swallow but my breathing is unsteady and all I can see in my mind is that man from the barbecue. Beside me. Wrinkled shirt. Untidy shoes.