UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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“Wow. Really. Just, wow.” Lucy held up both hands in helpless amazement as Maya gave a shy little twirl, showing off the first dress anyone in the house had ever seen her wear.
Candace arched an eyebrow. “We’re gonna have to look out for you.”
Grace watched as Maya turned red. She guessed Maya wasn’t used to getting this kind of attention. Grace would have blushed, too. Sometimes people stared at Grace and made comments about her eyes being like blue crystals or some other hyperbole. omments like that always made Grace feel uncomfortable. Candace was the opposite, she seemed to revel in any attention she got. Maya’s response felt very familiar to Grace.
Only Lucy had actually said anything but Paolo’s appreciation was pretty blatant. His eyes couldn’t get enough of this sexy new version of Maya. Grace and John-Michael restricted themselves to nods of approval.
“So,” Candace said with a little toss of her head, “where have you been hiding those curves?”
“Under my jeans,” Maya answered, a little tightly.
“Well, geek girl, you got it going on.”
Grace picked up her napkin, a burgundy linen folded into a swan. Next to it, the place setting was immaculate; the wineglasses, out of their boxes for the first time, were filled with red or white wine. The kitchen ceiling lights had been dimmed and three brand-new steel candlesticks were placed along the table, each with a bloodred candle.
“The table looks beautiful, John-Michael!” Grace said. “Did you really do all of this yourself?”
He tried to brush off the compliment. “I wanted everything to be just right.”
“It’s beautiful. And everyone is dressed so nice.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’re all fabulous, darling,” Candace said, sipping from a glass of Viognier. “Now let’s eat! I’ve got a math test tomorrow morning.”
John-Michael went around the table, serving each of them a portion of blackened snapper. Then he did another round, offering Moroccan couscous salad and roasted red and yellow bell peppers. Finally, he went around a third time, this time topping off everyone’s wine. It was all done in such a slick, professional manner. Paolo commented how gracefully John-Michael did it all.
“Thanks, man,” John-Michael said. “I used to wait tables in a conference center.”
“Your year off?” Paolo asked.
“‘Year off’?” John-Michael laughed. “You make it sound glamorous. I was homeless for most of the year. Had to take work where I could find it. I got that job toward the end. A guy I knew got me hooked into the hotel where they did the conferences. I was working there until a little after my dad died.”
“It must have been awful,” Grace said softly. She hadn’t really taken time to get to know John-Michael. He gave off a friendly vibe, but she sensed that was all surface. He was surprisingly quiet for a young, good-looking guy. She guessed he could easily be out every night partying. But mainly he stayed home, watching TV, baking, and doing his homework. This was the first time she’d had a chance to hear him talk about his missing year.
John-Michael took his seat at the head of the table and picked up his fork. “A lot of it was bad. If I’m honest.”
Paolo chewed thoughtfully. “You ever get attacked?”
“A few times.”
“Raped?”
John-Michael kept his eyes down low. “Almost. On the beach, one time. But they were outta their heads on crystal meth. I managed to get away.”
“Jeez.”
“It wasn’t good.”
Paolo seemed determined to continue the line of questioning. “How about drugs?”
“Weed. Coke, a couple of times.”
“You ever inject?”
Grace reflected that John-Michael seemed very calm, almost blasé about all these revelations. As though he’d come to terms with the entire experience. Or perhaps that he’d suffered something even worse.
He shook his head. “Hard drugs scare the bejesus out of me.” John-Michael’s willingness to talk about his life on the street seemed to be running thin. He glanced across to Maya, who sat on Paolo’s left. “So how’s everything with you?”
“I’m working on my app, you know . . .”
“An app?”
Maya gave a bashful smile.
It looked to Grace as though Maya was about to speak, but Candace interrupted her. “Hey, Lucy,” she asked, “you hooking up with anyone in that rock band yet?”
Lucy’s reply was ice cool with sarcasm. “No, young lady, I’m not hooking up with anyone.”
“That’s what I thought. Is anyone here getting any? ‘Cause I know I’m not.”
Paolo chuckled. “Looks like it’s going to be that kind of evening.” He winked at Maya.
But instead of joining in with the joke, Maya replied innocently, “What do you mean?”
“Perhaps you’re all virgins,” Candace said. There was a brief pause, then Paolo laughed.
Maya looked at them in turn. “What’s funny?”
“Oh, nothing,” Paolo said, smiling. “I’ve just had too much wine. Yeah. Virgins. That’s it.”
“I lost mine when I was fifteen,” Candace remarked. “Grace was sixteen—just.”
Grace sighed. She gulped down some wine. “Thanks, sis. Now I don’t have to worry about keeping that private.”
Candace set down her wineglass, hard. “Oh, please. We’re all friends here. Aren’t we? Paolo, how old were you? I bet you were young. A hottie like you.”
Paolo gave a bashful grin. “I was fourteen. Not proud of it. A girl who used to be my babysitter.”
Candace guffawed. “Tramp.”
“I know.”
“Man whore.”
“Okay, okay.” Paolo turned to John-Michael, clearly reluctant to share any more about his own experiences. “How about you, John-Michael? When did you first get some sweet gay action?”
Eventually, John-Michael replied, “I was sixteen. A guy at school. We’d known each other since middle school, but we didn’t have any classes together until my freshman year. We were lab partners in chem and bio.”
“Classic. The Bunsen-burner meet cute. Who came on to who?”
“I did. He was so gorgeous. Tito, from Costa Rica. I really love Latino boys,” he said with a shy glance at Maya. “The caramel skin tone, the chocolate-colored eyes, the accent.”
“So,” Candace said coyly. “How far’d you go?”
“Your momma never told you?” John-Michael replied archly. “Nice boys don’t kiss and tell.”
Grace found herself blushing on behalf of the two boys, neither of whom seemed eager to say any more. She guessed that it might be different in front of other guys. But Candace’s slightly mocking tone was pretty off-putting, even to Grace.
Grace broke in: “So how come you couldn’t go live with Tito when your dad kicked you out?”
“His family didn’t know he was gay. No one knew, only me. I was stupid enough to come out to my dad.”
“Can’t have been easy,” said Grace.
But despite Grace’s efforts to alter the direction of the conversation, Candace seemed determined to bring it back to sex. “What about you, Lucy?” she said. “What’s your number?”
Lucy merely smiled. “As in, how many guys? Sugar, you think I’m gonna give up that particular piece of information?”
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” John-Michael grinned.
“I’ll take some of that action,” Candace said. “Mine is easy to remember—two. Lame and lamer.”
“Who’s lame—them, or you for choosing them?” Grace said. “Okay, I’m in, too. Mine is a one. And he was kind of sweet. I liked him a lot.”
Maya asked, “What happened?”
“Oh, you know. Possessiveness, clinginess, whining.”
“True,” Candace said. “You were kind of unnecessarily mean to him.”
Paolo said, “Okay, so we’ll assume Maya is a zero, on account of her extreme youth—”
“Hey!” Maya interrupted. “I’m only a year younger than you!”
He turned to her. “Am I wrong?”
She shrugged. “Ehh. Okay, it’s true. I’m a good Catholic girl.”
“Okay, so I’m on a two,” Candace said. “Grace has one, Lucy isn’t telling, and John-Michael . . . ? How many guys have you ah . . . serviced?”
“A few.”
Candace said insistently, “Be specific.”
“Maybe twenty? I don’t remember.”
They were all a little shocked by this, although Paolo pretended otherwise. “You rascal.”
John-Michael followed his lead, putting on a posh English accent and shaking his head with mock regret. “I know. I’m an absolute cad.”
Candace laughed with delight at their performance. Grace watched for a moment as Candace drained her glass and filled it up again, almost to the brim. It was at least her third glass. No wonder she was being so outrageous. She already sounded drunk. And it was just getting worse. Candace turned to Paolo. “What about you, Cougar Boy?”
Grace flinched at the nickname. It was easier to forget how dumb it was to have a crush on Paolo when she wasn’t reminded of his popularity with those women at the country club. “Come on, Candace, let’s drop this.”
Her stepsister turned to Grace with a look of amused disbelief. “Come on! We’re finally getting somewhere interesting with these bozos.”
Grace replied, “Maybe they don’t want to go there?”
Maya added, “Plus, some of us don’t have any stories to share. It’s kind of one-sided.”
Paolo merely leaned back, took a sip of wine, and raised his glass with an enigmatic smile. “Like our boy John-Michael says, a nice guy doesn’t kiss and tell.”
“But methinks thou liest,” Candace said, slipping into her best Shakespearean English. “The word on the street, Master Paolo, is that thou art nothing but a goatish knave.”
Amid the laughter that ensued, Paolo smirked and mimed picking up a phone. “Hey, Candace, the British called. They want their accent back.”
“Ha, bloody, ha,” Candace replied with a dramatic flounce. As if in a mood of reconciliation, she raised a glass. “So now we know about everyone—except Lucy. To Lucy giving up her number.”
To Grace’s irritation, the rest of the housemates cheered. Lucy shook her head in resignation, smiled a drowsy smile. “What a bunch of sex-obsessed children.”
“Guilty,” Paolo said emphatically, his hand on his wineglass. “Now, Lucy, ‘fess up.”
Grace shook her head. “Come on, guys. Some people don’t like to talk about this.”
Candace stuck out her tongue. “Jeez, what’s with all the prudery?”
Grace replied quickly, “You didn’t enjoy doing it, so now you have to make it all into some big joke?”
Candace laughed in a way that struck Grace as cynical, an imitation of Candace’s mother, Katelyn. “Well, if you can’t laugh at stuff like this . . .”
Lucy sighed. “I don’t mind telling. It’s not like I’d be the only blabbermouth around here. . . .”
There was another cheer for Lucy’s being a good sport. “Are we counting everything?” she asked. “Or does it have to be the all the way?”
“Fourth base,” Candace confirmed with a satisfied nod.
“Okay. In that case,” she said very slowly. “My number . . . is zero.”
They all gasped. Maya began to grin. She held high her right palm to Lucy. “Yeah, baby! Virgins unite!”
Lucy high-fived Maya. She threw the others a defiant stare. Candace and John-Michael joined in with some good-humored, if ribald jeering.
Paolo, however, seemed transfixed. He couldn’t look away from Lucy. Grace couldn’t tell if he was appalled or enthralled. She felt the familiar stirrings of jealousy once again.