It was easy to lose yourself around Phoebe and Nicole. They were so cool, so funny, so at ease with everything. This was their life. Cigarettes. Drinks. Music. The eyes of every guy and most of the girls on them. It wasn’t a life with a lot of future—I understood that. But what was the future anyway? Did it even exist?
The three of us danced for one song and then another and then another. When a slow song came on, I stood with them and drank my beer and kept my mouth shut. When we eventually took a break, they pulled me with them to a couch, and sat on either side of me.
“So you’re Kyle’s cousin!” Nicole said to me, in her loud, saucy voice.
I nodded.
“I can see the resemblance,” she said. She pushed her shoulder into mine. “Do you know who I am?”
“I think so.”
“I’m Kyle’s great high school love!”
“I’ve heard that,” I said.
“You have?” she said with concern. “From who?”
I shrugged. “Everyone,” I said. “You’re famous.”
She laughed. “Oh my God! I sort of am, aren’t I? Ha-ha. I like you. I don’t even know you, but I like you already!”
“I like you too,” I said.
“And you know why we broke up, don’t you?” she said.
“No . . .”
“His coach didn’t like me. It was his coach! And Kyle’s such a big-shot baseball player and all. . . .” She did a pout-face to emphasize the unfairness of this. “And Kyle always does what his coaches tell him. Because he’s like that. He’s a Boy Scout basically. People think he’s so big and strong, but he’s a Boy Scout. He’s afraid of me, is the real problem. He didn’t know what to do with me. Because I do what I want and I speak my mind. And I don’t take shit from nobody! That’s something you need to know about me.”
“Okay,” I said.
She sighed. “But anyways, so yeah, we were in love. We still are. He tries to pretend we’re not, but I know. Girls know that sort of thing.”
I nodded.
“What about you?” she asked me, tapping my thigh with her pointy fingernail. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“I did.”
I considered telling her, but then realized that would be a mistake. “We broke up,” I said.
“What about now?” she said, leaning closer and turning slightly so that her large breasts mushed into me. “Are you available? Or has Phoebe already claimed you?”
“Uh . . .”
She leaned forward so she could see her friend. “Phoebe!?” she said loudly.
“Yeah?” said Phoebe, who was looking at her phone.
“Have you claimed Nick here?”
“What?” said Phoebe.
“I said, have you claimed Nick? Or is he still available?”
Phoebe shrugged.
“You know, he’s Kyle’s cousin,” said Nicole.
“I know,” said Phoebe. “I’m the one who told you that.”
“Well do you like him or not?”
“He’s okay.”
“Just okay?”
Phoebe didn’t answer. She didn’t look up.
Nicole sat back on the couch. “Well I think you’re adorable,” she whispered into the side of my face. Her breath smelled like beer and cigarettes. “Unfortunately, with you being Kyle’s stepbrother and all . . .”
“Cousin,” I said. “I’m his cousin.”
“Well, either way, it might be a little incestuous. . . .”
I didn’t say anything more. A new song came on, but nobody got up to dance. Nicole spotted someone she knew in the kitchen. She began waving wildly, and jumped up and launched herself in that direction. Phoebe, left alone with me, said nothing and continued to study her phone.
A few minutes later, though, Phoebe put her phone away. She actually smiled at me for a moment as she did. Then she scooted a little closer and casually put her arm along the top of the couch behind me. I could feel her fingers graze the side of my face when she did it. We sat like that for a few moments, watching the dancers, her hand behind my head. Then she began to touch my hair and the back of my neck.
Suddenly, I wasn’t so drunk anymore. I wasn’t sure what she was doing. Her fingers burrowed down to my scalp and began to massage the base of my skull. It felt amazing. I glanced over at her once; she grinned. I grinned. She began to do it more, stroking my hair, caressing my neck. It sent warm shivers all through me.
She wants me to kiss her, I thought. I had to do it. I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t hesitate. I turned toward her. She was already looking at my lips. I leaned in. Our mouths connected. Our lips touched, and then our tongues. And just like that it was happening. I was making out with Phoebe, right in the middle of this huge party.
It was heavenly. But I was too excited. I was going too fast. Phoebe was going slower; she was more of a delicate kisser. I followed her lead. I slowed down. And then it got even better. Her lips were so soft, and yet firm, and they fit so well with mine. And the feeling of it, the idea of it: this beautiful girl, this wild girl, with her pretty face and luminous skin. Phoebe, the girl I thought I’d never even talk to, she was right here in my arms!
After a minute or two Phoebe pulled away. It took me a second to open my eyes, and when I did, I saw that she was sitting back. So I sat back too. She wasn’t looking at me now; she was staring at the dancers. I did the same. My whole body was humming, electrified, but I did my best to continue my original strategy. Nothing happening here. No need to talk. No need to do anything.
Some new people were dancing. Others were standing around. Phoebe lit a cigarette and checked her phone. I remained focused on the dancers and the other people. I noticed an older guy across the room, staring hard at Phoebe and me. He looked pissed off, or maybe jealous. I wondered who he was.
Nicole came back to the couch and said something urgent to Phoebe, who instantly stood up. Before I could react, the two of them had crossed the room and disappeared into the kitchen. The guy staring at us had left too, I noticed. I wasn’t sure what was happening, so I stayed where I was. Probably they would come back. And anyway, it wouldn’t have felt right to jump up and chase after them. My super-chill approach had worked so far. I felt like I better stick with it.
But after ten minutes passed, with no sign of them, I wasn’t so sure. After fifteen minutes I casually got to my feet, went into the kitchen. I looked around. They were not in the kitchen.
I moved toward the front of the house. There were clusters of partiers in different rooms. I calmly checked each area, but there was no sign of them. I began to move a little faster, and when I’d covered the whole house, I returned once more to the playroom. No Nicole. No Phoebe.
I went outside. The bonfire had died down. The food table was still there, but even more trashed then before. I scanned the grounds, the fields, the cars parked along the edge of the woods. No Phoebe. No Nicole.
Okay, I said to myself, so she left. Was that so bad? The important thing was: Phoebe and I had made out. And I hadn’t done anything stupid. Which meant that she knew me now, she would remember me, we could possibly make out again . . . if she didn’t have a boyfriend. I hadn’t asked anyone if she did. That would be good information to have.
I walked back into the barn. The band was taking a break, but there were still people standing around or sitting on hay bales. I spotted Tyler and Justin, sitting on the ground along the back wall. “Hey,” I said, kneeling on the hard dirt.
They raised their plastic beer cups in greeting. “Where you been?” said Justin.
“In the house,” I said. “You’ll never believe what just happened to me.”
“What?”
“I made out with Phoebe!”
They both stared at me. They didn’t seem as excited as I thought they’d be.
“Phoebe? Phoebe Garnet?” said Justin, sitting up slightly. Tyler sat up too.
“I guess so,” I said. “You know, Phoebe, Nicole’s friend.”
“Yeah,” said Justin. “That’s her.”
“Phoebe Garnet,” said Tyler, without enthusiasm. “Yeah. She’s hot.”
“Are you kidding?” I said. “She’s totally hot.”
“Where was this?” asked Justin.
“In the house,” I said. I was getting excited as it began to sink in. I’d hooked up with the hottest girl at the whole party.
“The only thing is,” I said. “Does she have a boyfriend?”
Tyler looked at Justin. Justin looked at Tyler.
“Do you guys know if she does or not?”
“I don’t know,” said Justin.
Tyler shrugged.
“Some older guy was staring at us,” I said. “He looked jealous.”
Neither Tyler nor Justin said anything. I didn’t understand what their problem was. How did they not see the importance of this?
But whatever. I didn’t care. I stopped talking and took a seat next to Tyler, leaning against the wall and looking out. I stared into the rafters of the barn and thought about the taste of Phoebe’s lips, her distinctive kissing style. And the way she’d caressed the back of my neck: That was definitely a serious move, an adult move. It had felt incredible. I should have done it back to her. I would next time. If there was a next time.
“You got any more of that whiskey?” I asked Justin.
“Nah, dude, we’re tapped out,” he said, showing me the empty bottle.
That was too bad. I could have used one last shot to calm me down.
A country-western song began to play over the PA speakers. I didn’t know the song, but I nodded my head to the rhythm. The lyric was about falling in love. The sweet pain of it. The helplessness. I immediately went into a kind of trance, sitting there on the hard dirt, in the barn, my heart filled to bursting with the idea of Phoebe Garnet.