When we get off the bus, I look up at the sky and notice that the cloud we saw earlier has gotten even bigger. There’s something about it that makes me a little nervous, but I don’t have much time to think about it. I’m looking up at Lara’s building, and suddenly I’m nervous. It’s a fancy high-rise, with a doorman and one of those lobbies with more art in it than most galleries. Are we really going to do this? She did really invite me, right?
The doorman gives us a look, but nothing compared to the look we get from the guy behind the desk in the lobby. “Boys,” he says with the same tone Mrs. Martin uses when she has to explain dirty jokes in Shakespeare to the class. “Are you expected?”
At first I don’t know what he means, but Charlie does.
“We are, Jeeves,” he says, in a fake English accent. “We certainly are.”
The guy ignores him and turns to me. “Who might be expecting a visit from you?”
“Um, Lara . . . um, Hanover.” I wonder if I’m supposed to prove it somehow.
“I see.” He doesn’t sound like he approves. “Just so you’re aware, the building management is of the understanding that Ms. Hanover’s parents are abroad. We have instructions to limit the attendance of her soiree this evening.” He looks us both up and down. “Wait right there while I call up to see if you two are in the in crowd, won’t you?” He turns his back and picks up a desk phone, punches in some numbers. We hear some murmuring, but I can’t make out what he’s saying.
Charlie and I look at each other. We’re not in the in crowd. Never have been. I heave a sigh, get ready for the boot. Charlie gives me his best it-ain’t-over-till-it’s-over look and plants his feet more squarely on the marble floor.
“Well.” The desk guy turns back around, an irritated look on his face. “It appears that at least one of you is on the list. Which one of you is Nick?”
I raise my hand.
“You, my fair sir, are on the list.” The guy eyes me. “Your friend is not.”
I can see Charlie already deflating. I don’t like this guy. He seems to me to be like every guy I’ve ever known who wants to be sure you know you’re not up to par, that you don’t quite have what it takes. You just never know where you’ll run into one, but they’re all pretty much the same. That “Your friend is not” shit? One of their favorite tactics. Divide and conquer. They figure you’ll ditch your friend for the prestige they’re holding out like candy, and sometimes they’re right. I’ve seen people do it.
“I think you better call again.”
The guy’s having none of me. “I’ve already confirmed with the lady.”
“Well.” I take out my cell phone. “Either you can call her, or I will.” I wait, hoping there is no way he can know that I don’t even have Lara’s number. He doesn’t budge, so I start tapping on the screen of my phone.
“Very well.” He snarls the words, and turns back to his phone, stabbing in numbers. “Ms. Hanover. Yes. The person you indicated had approval . . . yes, that Nick person. He is insisting that his friend must be on the list as well. What? Well, one moment.” He turns back to me and gestures toward Charlie. “What’s his name?”
“Charlie.”
He turns back, and we can hear him say Charlie’s name. After a few seconds he hangs up the phone. I steel myself, because as much as I want to go to Lara’s party, if she doesn’t let Charlie in, I don’t know what I’ll do.
The guy looks at us with that same disgusted expression. But I can tell we won by the peeved expression on his face. He doesn’t even bother to tell us we got the okay, just shrugs in annoyance and motions for us to go on up. “Number 1201,” he says.
I give him an exaggerated military salute and snap my heels together. “See you later.”
We head for the bank of elevators. When we get inside, Charlie looks at the buttons and his eyes get all wide, like he’s seeing God or something. “She’s all the way at the top. Wonder if it’s the penthouse.”
I look too, and sure enough, there are only twelve floors. “Top floor doesn’t mean it’s a penthouse. I bet there are lots of apartments on twelve.”
But when the doors whoosh open, we spill out into a small landing with a table, a small sofa, and one door with the number 1201 on it.
“Penthouse,” breathes Charlie, like he’s seeing a starlet in person.
I reach up to lift the knocker, a brass lion, no less, and the door whips opens before I can even touch the lion’s mane. Radiohead blares out, along with cigarette smoke and laughter. It looks like there’s quite a crowd already here. Some guy I don’t recognize looms in the doorway.
“Damn, I wore the wrong shirt,” mumbles Charlie, looking down at his Death Cab for Cutie. He has the largest collection of band T-shirts in the known universe. I know just the Radiohead shirt he’s thinking of because I’ve seen him wear it a million times.
“You Nick?” The guy is older than us—he looks like he must be in college. I think I recognize him from Lara’s Facebook photos, but I’m not sure.
“That’s me.” I wonder if he’s Lara’s boyfriend. I bet. I bet she just invited me to the party out of pity or something.
“Nick!” Lara bounces up, laughing, and puts her arm around the guy’s waist. “So glad you could come!” She looks amazing. I mean, she always looks amazing, but there’s something different about her tonight. She’s dressed up, sure, but cool and relaxed too. There’s an easiness to her smile and an amused look in her eye, like she just heard a joke. She’s on her home turf now, and it makes her more beautiful than ever.
“Charlie, you too! Glad you’re here. Is Brian acting like the bouncer again?” She mock-punches the guy in the side. He grabs her and messes up her hair. And—another reason I think she is the coolest chick ever—she doesn’t care.
Lara smiles at me and Charlie. “Brian doesn’t bite. He just likes to act all big-brother-y when he’s home from college.” She wrinkles her nose. “Come on in.”
He’s her brother! I hear angels singing somewhere. We follow her into a room with one wall made entirely of windows. There’s a huge flat screen mounted on the opposite wall, flashing music videos. A couch and some chairs furnish the room, but they’re not like the furniture in my living room. Clearly we’re looking at a different level of couch and chairs, from a different level of store, if they even came from a store. I bet they got delivered from some designer place. After they got picked out by some designer. It looks like Charlie and I walked onto a movie set instead of into somebody’s apartment. I wonder what Lara’s parents do for a living; must be something with pretty good pay.
The place is packed, both with kids I recognize from school and others I don’t. People mill around in the living area, staring at the flat screen and talking in little groups. There’s bottled beer chilling in ice and a spread of food that looks like it had to be catered. Do people really cater their high school parties? I’m more used to a keg and some Doritos and dip. Charlie grabs a beer and starts loading up a paper plate with delicacies. Lara watches him, amusement coloring her face. Then she looks at me and sort of tilts her head in a way that makes my heart beat faster.
“Want a beer, Nick?”
“Sure.” I take the bottle she hands me. We stand, two feet apart, awkward and silent. Charlie’s busy with his food and seems to be keeping his distance nicely. Finally I say, “How have you been?”
“How have you been?” Freaking genius. I saw her three days ago. I’m sure nothing earth-shattering has happened to her since then. She must think I’m such a—
“Okay.” She smiles that smile and I stop thinking. “Nothing much going on. How have you been?”
“Um, you know. The same.” We both start laughing.
“Want to check out the view?” She starts walking toward the windows, and I see that one of them is a door. I follow her through the room, out onto a balcony that looks over the entire city. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the city all lit up and spread out like this before. It would be amazing to see this every day.
“Weird,” Lara says with a frown.
“What?”
“It’s only eight o’clock.” She points toward the rest of the city. “There are never that many lights on this early.” Lara looks up at the sky, eyeing the cloud cover. “Then again, it’s never this dark on a summer evening at eight o’clock at night.”
The dark cloud that was off in the distance when Charlie and I were at the bus stop has grown into a blob that blots out the sun as it gets ready to set.
“Looks like there’s going to be a storm.” I smile sideways. “Hey, maybe I’ll have an excuse to miss my curfew. I can’t go home if it’s raining, right?”
Lara rolls her eyes and looks like she’s trying not to let on that she thinks it’s funny, but she can’t help letting out a little stutter of a laugh. She just shakes her head and looks back up at the cloud, not saying anything.
I know I should try to be chill, but I can’t stop looking at her. I almost can’t believe I’m standing here with her like this, like we’re old friends or something. Her hair’s come a little bit undone and it’s blowing a little in the breeze, twisting into her face. It’s blue, then pink and then yellow again in this weird, shifting twilight.
I almost want to reach out and put my arm around her—I have this weird feeling that she wouldn’t push me away. But just as I’m about to do it, she turns from the sky and back to me and busts me staring. I feel heat rise to my cheeks.
“It was cool being in class with you this year,” she says.
I’m surprised. I didn’t even think she’d noticed me. “Um,” I mumble. “It was?”
“Yeah. I, um, I sort of wondered if maybe you were going to ask me out, before the year was over. But you never did.” She looks up at me sort of funny, and it suddenly hits me. I realize that she must be shy. Lara Hanover, shy!
“Wow.” I don’t know what to say.
“You’re really pretty smart, aren’t you, Nick? I noticed in Mrs. Martin’s class that you really read the assignments. I could tell because of the way you knew what she was talking about sometimes.” Lara looks down at the balcony railing. “I read them too. I like books, mostly.” She looks back up at me. “Does that sound dumb?”
I’m about to say that she could never sound dumb to me, when my worst nightmare appears at the balcony door.
“There you are!”
I close my eyes. I know that voice. I turn, and sure enough, there’s Donny Morris. Standing just inside the apartment, grinning his sleazy grin at Lara. “I wondered where you were hiding.”
Lara smiles back at him. I’m not surprised—I’ve never seen her be mean to anyone. “Hi, Donny. Did you find the beer?”
Donny keeps grinning and brandishes a bottle. “I sure did. Want to show me that game now, Lara?” He holds up another bottle he’s been hiding behind his back.
“Oh, Donny, I forgot.” Lara looks at me, an apology of some sort in her eyes. “I told Donny I’d show him Brian’s newest Wii game. Maybe,” she says to me in a lower tone, “we can meet up later.” Then she’s heading toward Donny, and I’m standing there alone.