by Geneva Lee
“I’m not a lady.” I stomp out of the room to prove it before he can stop me.
I take the Mercedes G-Wagon, because it’s my current favorite, and daddy is too drunk to notice it’s gone. Back in my prep days, I might have walked, ensuring I could easily stumble home. The Palmer estate is only a half a mile away on the opposite side of Magnolia Lane. But Poppy is stuck in the dorms and needs a ride. I don’t blame her, given that Ava is readying Darcy’s house to play hostess, and Poppy can’t stand being stuck in enclosed spaces with Cyrus. When I pull up to campus, she’s waiting on a short brick wall. I whistle appreciatively when she climbs in wearing a black and white striped romper. She’s knotted her glossy black hair near the haltered neckline.
“You look amazing!”
“I have made a major decision,” she says as I wait for her to buckle up. Then she turns to me with an expression she usually saves for serious matters like celebrity break-ups or PETA campaigns. “I’m back on the market.”
“You were off-the-market?” I ask.
“Not officially. But I was looking more than seeking. I’m done waiting around. I was hung up on Cyrus, but he’s never going to make an actual move. Why waste this?” She flourishes her hand like a game show hostess announcing the big prize.
This is exactly the girl power I need to channel after my confrontation with Malcolm. It’s time to take back our social lives. Mama wouldn’t want me to sit around in my room. She’d want my days to be full of diamonds. And I could do that. Live for her, soak up what there is to love about Tennessee before I make my escape.
“Okay, but big favor. Can we pick up a friend?”
“You don’t waste time,” I tease as she points me in the direction of a boys dorm down the street.
“It’s not like that,” she says.
“Off-the-market?” I ask.
“We’re shopping at the wrong stores,” she says meaningfully.
“Gotcha.”
Poppy’s new friend struts out of his building in a body-skimming gray tee and board shorts more suited to SoCal than Valmont. Bangs sweep his forehead and I can’t help but think he looks like a young Keanu Reeves—but with a lot more confidence. I flash the car’s brights in encouragement of his runway moves.
“Nice ride,” he says appreciatively as he climbs into the back seat.
I swivel around and stick out a hand. “Adair MacLaine. I think we’re going to be friends.”
“Kai Miles.” He takes it. “I am in the market for friends.”
Poppy and I share a look before we burst out laughing. Everyone’s in the market for something tonight. The question is what are the chances we find much worth buying in Valmont. I’ve sampled the stock. There’s not much around here that interests me.
“Thanks for being a DD,” Kai says.
I roll my eyes into the rearview mirror. Wires have been crossed, it seems.
“I’m not DDing.”
“Sorry,” he says quickly. “I thought Poppy said…”
“We won’t need a ride home, darling,” Poppy interrupts him. “Adair’s place is just down the way. We can crash there.”
“Is there room?”
I glance at Poppy. Has she prepared him at all? “We’ve got the space, but Poppy doesn’t drink, so it hardly matters.”
“I have wine every now and then,” she says defensively.
“When do you have wine?” I’ve never seen her touch a drop of booze.
“When I visit my Grandmum in Surrey.”
“Are you sure you aren’t too sophisticated for an old-fashioned Valmont house party?” I place the back of my hand to my forehead and feign a swoon of admiration.
“Shut up!” She bats at me, accidentally hitting the steering wheel and the car swerves, narrowly avoiding a ditch.
“That’s why she can’t DD,” I explain to Kai. “We’ll wind up in a ditch even if she’s sober. You can crash with us unless you’re desperate to get back to the dorms tonight, but you’ll be taking your life into your own hands.”
“I’ll take my chances on your couch.”
“We have to sneak into the guesthouse,” I warn them. “I can’t deal with my brother anymore tonight.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t go home,” Poppy says suggestively.
“Have you been replaced by a sexbot?” I ask her. “Where’s my best friend?”
“I just mean—there might be someone you’re hoping to run into?” she suggests, waggling her brows. “Someone who gets you all fired up?”
This time I nearly put us in a ditch. “What did you do?”
“Nothing.” Poppy is a crap liar. Guilt is practically stamped across her forehead.
“No. There is no one I’m hoping to see.” I want to call her out. If she did what I think she’s done, there goes the evening. Not to mention that she had to call Cyrus to do it. So much for her resolution to give up on him. I feel the empowerment I’d discovered at Valmont leak away. So I turn up the radio to croon along to a Carrie Underwood song. Kai holds his own, belting it almost as impressively she does. When the song ends, Poppy claps wildly. “Nice pipes!”
“I have my reasons for coming to Nashville,” Kai admits. “Not that country music is in need of a gay Hawaiian.”
“I think that’s exactly what country music needs,” I disagree, already mentally going through my contacts list. Kai is seriously talented and Nashville is full of producers looking for the next big star. I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to make promises I can’t keep.
Kai fills us in on his musical aspirations the rest of the way to Northern Valmont.
“Then my mother tried to get me on America’s Got Talent, but…” The words fall from his lips when I turn onto Magnolia Lane. He rolls down his window to stick his head out for a better look as we pass the first estate. By the time, we pull into the West’s drive, his mouth is hanging open. I park next to a Porsche and Cyrus’s Jaguar, earning a disgruntled sigh from Poppy.
“Sorry,” I mouth. Poppy might be ‘back on the market officially’ but not emotionally.
“I thought we were going to a house party,” Kai says still buckled in the back seat.
“This is it.”
“This isn’t a house. It’s a museum.” He finally climbs out, craning his neck to take in the sweeping terra cotta roof.
Someone’s had the genius idea to mount strobe lights on the second-floor balcony’s iron railing. Anywhere else the police might bust up a party like this, but Magnolia Lane employs private security. I have no doubt they’ve been properly bribed to steer clear this evening.
“People live here?” Kai asks.
I can’t help but laugh. Already I feel lighter than I have in weeks. I turn to Poppy and wink. “Would we call them people?”
“It’s debatable.”
“Is your house this big?” he asks me.
Poppy giggles, linking his arm through hers and leading him toward the entrance, an oversized set of intricately carved wooden doors. “Oh, darling, it’s bigger.”
“I need the men’s room,” Kai says as soon as we’re inside. His head tilts backward to the large five-tiered, iron chandelier beset with lights made to look like lit candles hanging in the two-story foyer. He nearly topples over trying to take it all in.
“Straight that way. Find the line of girls waiting and turn on your charm,” I advise.
He flashes a winning grin and sets off just as Ava catches us. Her black mini dress contrasts starkly with the considerable amounts of peachy skin it displays. The sharp sting of vodka on her breath nearly knocks me out as she teeters on her heels, swaying into a hug. “You came! Poppy told me you tried to back out. She said you weren’t feeling well.”
“Is that so?” I side-eye Poppy. It’s not like her to walk into a lie.
“I feel better,” I say, not wanting to give the real reason I’d considered ditching the festivities.
“I should have stayed in.” Ava’s lips plump into a pout. “There’s no one interestin
g here.”
“By no one do you mean boys?” I guess. “This place is crawling with boys.”
“No new boys, though,” she corrects me. “Except Sterling—and Darcy has dibs on him.”
“She does?” My voice pitches up in surprise, and I flinch painfully aware how distressed I sound. Ava doesn’t seem to notice thanks to her blood alcohol level, but Poppy smirks next to me. This confirms her suspicions.
“She says, but I think he’s fair game,” Ava slurs.
“I don’t think he’s interested in Darcy.” Poppy casts a knowing look at me.
“Did you guys see the pool?” Kai asks, finally finding us.
Ava straightens at his appearance, holding out her empty hand. As soon as he takes it, she presses closer to him until he’s practically holding her up. “I’m Ava.”
“I’m gay,” he says, blinking over the bundle of vodka-infused girl suddenly in his arms.
She sighs heavily, pastes on a smile and releases her catch. “Oh well. Want a drink?”
“Um, sure.” He looks to us for confirmation.
“She doesn’t bite,” I promise him.
“Unless I’m asked,” Ava says sweetly. “Oh, there’s Oliver. I need to say hello. I’ll catch you all later.” She waves, her cup sloshing onto Poppy’s romper. She weaves into the crowd without an apology, spilling a trail of vodka in her wake.
Poppy surveys the damage, brushing the liquid from her romper. “Why is she acting like a lunatic party hostess?”
“She’s being Ava.”
“I wish I was a social butterfly.” Poppy watches her go.
“Ava is more like a praying mantis,” I correct her. “You are a social butterfly. This just isn’t your garden, babe.”
“At least Sterling is here,” she teases me.
“Who’s Sterling?” Kai pushes back the dark hair flopping into his shining eyes.
“Who cares if he’s here?”
“I care because he’s very pretty to look at,” Poppy says, “and you care because you’re totally in love with him.”
“Poppy Landry! I am not in love with him. I’m totally in loathing with him, but that is it.”
“Your voice is shaking,” Kai points out.
“Want to try that again with a little sincerity?” Poppy asks.
“Okay.” I consider my words, measuring each one before I speak. “Maybe I don’t hate Sterling, but I don’t like him—especially not like that. He was nice and drove me to the hospital, so he can’t be a complete asshole. I can’t prove that, though, since that’s all he’s been every other minute I’ve spent with him.”
“You can keep selling, but I’m not buying.”
“He is terrible. He’s rude, and he’s arrogant, and he’s—”
“Staring at you,” Poppy cuts in.
I drop my voice to a whisper. Telling myself, there’s no way he heard any of that in here. Not with all these people. “What?”
“Now he’s on his way over,” she narrates, “and he looks good enough to lick.”
“I concur with that opinion,” Kai adds.
“Oh my God.” I squeeze my eyes shut. The only thing that could make a conversation with Sterling more awkward is the addition of Poppy’s far-from-subtle double entendres.
“Adair,” Sterling says. My name is rough on his tongue, grating across it. I open my eyes expecting a glare and find a smile instead. “I was hoping to run into you. I wasn’t sure you would come.”
“I don’t think my attendance was ever in doubt.” I force myself to sound cold even as my body heats up in awareness.
“She just needed time,” Poppy jumps in like a lifeguard sensing danger. The question is: which of us is drowning? “We met at the funeral. Poppy? I’m Adair’s best friend. I’m like a sister but I call her out on her BS.”
“I remember,” he says. According to Poppy, Sterling took off right after me that day. She saw this as a sign that he’d only come to see me. I tend to think he couldn’t stand spending more time with my friends.
“Ignore her. The rest of us do.” I shove her playfully. She takes the cue to shut up a little too well.
“I can see I’m not wanted. Let’s find you a drink.” She takes off with Kai in tow, leaving me with Sterling, both of them making kissy faces behind his back as they go. Later, I am officially revoking her best friend card. I’ll give Kai one more chance.
We stand a moment in relative silence, chaos all around us. Finally I blurt out the most obvious thought in my head. “This is uncomfortable.”
“It’s an improvement. You’re usually telling me off,” he says.
“And you’re usually being a total dick,” I say.
His smirk only makes his lips look fuller and more inviting. How can he make me want to kiss him and smack him at the same time?
“Truce?” he asks.
Maybe it’s the overly-hot room steaming my brain into submission, but I agree.
“I’m not good with family shit,” he explains.
I can’t help but laugh—not at him, but the irony. “No one here is. In Valmont, you belong to your family, especially if…”
I trail off not wanting to admit the pathetic truth out loud. I know better than most that girls belong to their families in Valmont. We’re practically trading cards, used to close business deals and ensure smooth mergers. Nothing says let’s make this work like marrying your daughter off to your company’s rival. These convenient marriages never last long, but from there it’s usually a matter of finding your next husband and then your third. Freedom is terrifying when you’ve only ever known captivity.
“Where are her parents?” Sterling asks, redirecting the conversation.
“Fiji or somewhere. They’re celebrating their anniversary,” I tell him.
“I thought she was still living at home.”
“So?”
“I guess if Francie could take off on vacation, she would,” he says. “She never left me to go on a trip.”
“Francie?” I repeat. “Is that what you call your mom?”
I instantly realize I’ve said the wrong thing. Sterling bristles, growing taller before my eyes. I sense the distance he’s putting between us even though he doesn’t take so much as a step away.
“Let’s not pretend you care,” he says coldly. “I’m a dog, remember?”
He throws my words back at me. They churn inside me until I want to throw up. I should apologize. He might have been rude at the funeral, but calling him a dog? It makes me feel gross and small. Even worse, it makes me feel like a MacLaine. Not like mama who married into the name. Like Malcolm and daddy.
I’m nothing like her. And now I never will be. She’ll never teach me to be kind. She’ll never coax the genetics she gave me to the front. I’ll wind up just another heartless MacLaine.
“Nothing to say?” he pushes. “What a surprise.”
He shakes his head, disgust contorting his sharp features, before he strides off, leaving me frozen to the spot.
“There you are! Oliver spotted a girl and I’m friendless” Ava’s drunkenly, cheerful voice is at complete odds with how I feel. The grin falls from her face when she gets closer. “What’s wrong?”
“Boys are dumb,” I croak. Ava and I have never been very close, but this seems to be a universal truth among girls.
She gets it. “Let’s get you something to drink.”
I don’t put up a fight, focusing instead on getting my crying under control.
“Can you get me a beer?” she asks the boy standing next to the keg. He’s got to be a couple years older than us, but she dazzles him.
“Sure.” It’s like she handed him a Christmas present. Bumping another guy from the tap, he reaches for a cup. “Hold on.”
He passes it to Ava and she gives it to me. “Fresh air?”
I nod, I need out of here. Why can’t I escape these parties and people? A couple more months, I promise myself.
“A couple more months until what?” Ava
asks.
I didn’t realize I spoke out loud. Taking a huge drink, I consider my options. No one knows about my plan to leave Valmont University behind. Poppy will be heartbroken, so I can’t tell her. But I need to put it out there. I need someone to know so that I’ll be held accountable to my plan. If I stay here much longer, I’ll never leave. I’ll become like the rest of them.
“Can I tell you something?”
She holds a finger up and points to the back patio.
I nod, being alone seems like a good idea. If the wrong person overhears, it could get back to my father. Ava West doesn’t give two shits about anyone but herself. Of course, she’s making me question that as we make our way through the crowd. Maybe alcohol softens her sharp edges a little.
We’re nearly outside when Ava stops. “There’s Money. Let me get him. He can get you to your house.”
I want to tell her that I don’t need to go home, but by the time she abandons me at the door to catch him I’m wondering if I do. There’s too many people here. The room is starting to swim. I step outside and suck in deep breaths of night air. It’s still muggy in Tennessee in September but it’s still fresh air. It’s so quiet outside, everyone is packed in the house where the air conditioning is. The sound of the party grows distant, and the night fogs at the edges as I try to cool down. But I can’t clear my head. It feels as heavy as my guilty heart. I take another drink, but the ice-cold beer isn’t helping. The red cup blurs in my hands. I try to focus on it, but it slips and spills on the tiled patio.
I turn toward the door, reaching for the knob. I need to find Ava and Money, or maybe Poppy. Someone to take me home, so I can lie down. I lurch it open, but instead of people inside, there is a swirling mass of colors and movement. I blink but it doesn’t get any clearer.
“Adair.” The voice comes from above. How did I wind up on the ground?
I try to raise my head to his voice but it’s too hard. I open my mouth but nothing comes out.
“Adair.” Sterling’s voice grows more insistent and then his face swims into sight.