by Janna King
She nodded to Grant, who was approaching with Presley. Axel was throwing darts nearby, side-eyeing Grant with a scowl.
“That wasn’t Grant’s finest hour,” said Mia. “But to be fair, Axel could have been a little less, um, showy as boat captain.”
“All in the name of fun. That’s what this summer’s about, right?” Ruby’s spaghetti strap slipped off her shoulder. “I’m going to mingle.” She turned and walked straight into Presley.
“Why are you and that other brand skank here?” Presley glared at her. “You have your own party.”
“Nice to see you again, too,” Ruby grinned. “We have a DJ at ours and I was craving a little live music.”
Mac and the band took to the stage and started to tune their instruments.
Ruby passed Grant, who stared at her ass cheeks, peeking out from under her ultra-short WN halter dress hanging over her bikini top.
Presley stared as well, face sneering with disgust. “Remember what Lyndon and Grace said? Underbutt doesn’t belong here.”
“We’re celebrating freedom!” Grant pulled Presley toward the dance floor. “Let’s dance.”
Cole raised an eyebrow at Mia. “You’re a lifesaver, huh?”
“Don’t ask,” she said.
“It is a little weird that Ruby and Axel are here when Wear National has their own event,” said Cole.
Mia watched Ruby wave to Mac, who nodded at her as he turned the tuning keys on his guitar.
“Live music,” replied Mia.
“Well, if I can’t ask about your lifesaving skills, let me ask you this,” said Cole. “You can bat T-shirts with a pool cue but can you actually play pool with one?”
“Hell, yeah,” answered Mia with bravado, then a chuckle. “Well, sort of.”
“Sort of works.” Cole tugged her sweater sleeve. “Let’s go.”
Mia put the white ball on the dot, leaned over, and broke with fair proficiency.
“Stripes,” she called.
Cole smiled, turned on, as Mia landed a couple balls in their intended pockets. He played with skill and focus, though his attraction to Mia was a distraction. Mia took another turn.
“Blue stripe in the corner pocket.” She aimed, but stood up, frustrated. “This angle is for math majors with a minor in pool.”
“Ever hear of the Ghost Ball Method?” Cole asked her.
Mia shook her head no. Her lips curled in a seductive smile. “Show me.”
Cole put his arms around her from behind. In the corner, Vincent snapped a photo of them.
“Align your body up on the line from the object ball to the pocket,” Cole directed, his body against Mia’s. “Use your imagination to drop that ghost ball into position. Keep your eyes on it, so it doesn’t disappear on you. Then shoot straight at it.”
Cole backed away slightly so Mia could follow his instructions. The 10 ball dropped in the right corner pocket.
“Bam! Ghost ball!” Mia exclaimed and whipped around, her face in Cole’s. She was beaming.
“God, you have an amazing smile.” Cole held Mia’s waist.
Vincent took another photo. Mia and Cole were aware he was there. They turned to him.
“Want to join?” asked Mia.
“Non, merci,” said Vincent. “I will leave you all to your excesses in a bit.”
Mia slipped to the side of Cole, reached for her piña colada on the nearby wood shelf, and finished it.
“I can’t believe we’re not enough fun for you, Vincent,” joked Cole.
“That’s just it,” replied Vincent. “You’re all too much fun for me. I’d like to be cuddled up asleep in my little cottage by midnight.” He grinned and walked off. His smile disappeared as he passed Grant, who was dancing with Presley as Mac and the band launched into a rock cover of the Ginuwine’s raunchy track, “Pony.”
Every move Presley made was for Mac. She would make him want her, though she never looked at him once. Grant didn’t give a shit because he was too busy watching Ruby dirty dance with Axel. Both spaghetti straps of her dress had now fallen, so her Wear National string bikini top underneath was in full view.
Eve strode by with drinks on a tray, calling out loudly, “If you go into heat, package your meat!”
Mia was that perfect point of buzzed—relaxed but in control. She let Cole lead her onto the dance floor. He pulled her close and they moved to the beat, their bodies heating up with the pulsing rhythm and the bodies around them. Mia remembered her first slow dance in sixth grade at the Winter Ball. She couldn’t recall her partner, only that they barely moved. It was a way to almost make out without getting in trouble. But there were no rules here.
After the song ended to massive cheers, they slipped out of the steamy crush, found a pocket of air between a wood pillar and the wall, and kissed. Mia could taste the sweet pineapple and coconut from their piña coladas on Cole’s tongue.
“It’s time to slow it down and cool it off a little, heathens,” said Mac into the mic. Sitting on a stool with his acoustic guitar, he sang Train’s “Calling All Angels.” The lyrics came out deep, warm, and emotional.
Presley, at the foot of the stage, couldn’t help but watch him. She turned to see Ruby swaying nearby, her hands waving in the air. Presley’s face was a mass of confusion: longing, sadness, and anger as she turned back to Mac.
Mia and Cole, holding hands, moved closer to the stage. Mia caught Ruby popping the Molly.
Grant passed Ruby his beer. “No need to dry-time it.”
Ruby took a swig, swallowed, and passed the bottle back.
“You gonna share with me now?” Grant held out his palm. “Got another one?”
“That’s not an equal trade.” Ruby laughed. “But you know where you can buy some. Everybody does.”
“It’s only worth it if it’s free,” said Grant.
“Nothing’s free on Nantucket.” Ruby’s smile was bittersweet.
When Mac finished the song, Ruby whooped and pounded her hands on the stage. Presley weaved her way to the bathroom.
“We’ll be back.” Mac stood and returned his guitar to its stand. The band left the stage and the DJ resumed. Ruby grabbed Mac’s arm as he stepped off. “Post-set smoke?”
“I’m working.” Mac pulled away from her and headed to the bar. Ruby’s eyes were wide, perplexed.
“I think you need to up your game,” Grant said to Ruby, while nodding toward Mac. “You’re not going to do that with some local rocker asshat.”
“And I’m going to do it with you?”
Suddenly, Ruby’s legs buckled underneath her like a ragdoll’s. Mia and Cole rushed over, pushing through the crowd. With Grant, they helped her up.
“Ruby, are you okay?” asked Mia.
“I’m so good.” Ruby’s eyes were slits, her smile slack. “It’s just hot in here. I’m gonna go back to the homestead for a skinny dip.”
Mia didn’t want to let Ruby go, but she didn’t want to leave Cole either. She remembered what Presley had said, sitting on the exact same stool where she sat now, also watching them: “You’re not responsible for everyone here. Take care of yourself for once.”
Grant took a step to follow Ruby out. “I’ll go with her.”
Axel, with his arms around the two now-wasted fishtail-braid girls, blocked Grant. “Fuck off,” he said, shoving Grant’s shoulder.
Grant lunged at him, but Cole grabbed his arm.
Dark Hair Fishtail-Braid Girl shrugged to Mia. “Your party was fun, but we’ve heard theirs has better swag.” The girls left with Ruby and Axel.
Grant took one more step toward the door. “That Ruby chick is into me. Fuck that guy!”
Mia touched his arm. “Leave her be, Grant. You’ve got your pick of the litter here.”
“I’ve been through most of ’em.” Grant gestured like a circus ringmaster.
“Come on, dude.” Cole motioned to Grant. “Let’s get a drink.”
Cole, Mia, and Grant stepped up to the bar. Mac was behind it,
tying on his apron.
“Nice set,” Cole said to him.
“Thanks.” Mac looked up. “What can I get you?”
Presley pushed through, interrupting before the others could order. “I’ll have a strawberry daiquiri.”
Mac grinned at her. “Hand-crafted, coming right up.”
“The machine is fine.” Presley’s expression was flat, her hands on the bar as Mac pulled the handle on the drink machine.
“What did you think of the song?” He brought the slushy cocktail to Presley.
“What did I think?” Presley threw the daiquiri in Mac’s face.
“Fuck!” yelled Mac, flamingo pink liquid dripping down his face.
This stopped all the partying around them as eyes went wide. Mac stormed around the bar and pulled Presley back into the kitchen, faster than anyone could snap photos and post.
“Holy shit!” exclaimed Grant.
Mia and Cole could only stare.
THIRTY-FOUR
Don’t touch me!” Presley yanked herself from Mac’s grasp. The tiny kitchen at The Rabbit Hole was hot as hell.
“What the fuck, Presley?” Mac grabbed a kitchen towel and wiped his face.
“You were singing that song for her!”
“I was singing that for you!” He chucked the towel on the counter.
Presley slapped him hard across the face.
“Bullshit,” snapped Presley. “I know what you meant by those lyrics. And you’re a drug dealer!”
“What are you talking about?” Mac put his hands to his head. “The song is about angels!” He gestured to her. “You’re an angel!”
Presley turned. “That’s another reason you’re full of shit, because you know I’m far from an angel!”
Mac reached for her. “Come on.”
Presley stepped away and motioned to her white Swiss dot dress, which was splattered with pink. “Look what you made me do!” She had tears in her eyes that went deeper than a stained outfit.
“I didn’t make you do anything,” said Mac. “You’re a fuckin’ force, Presley. That’s one of the reasons I can’t stop thinking about you!”
“Stop!” yelled Presley. “I’m leaving. I need to go home and change.”
“Let me drive you. I’m taking a keg to the Wear National party. We can talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, ever.” Presley stared into him. “When you see me here or around town, I don’t want you to say a word to me. We don’t know each other. We never met.”
“Presley, you can’t just erase what happened between us.” He touched her arm.
“Oh, yeah?” Presley retorted. “Watch me.” She turned and strode back out of the kitchen. Mac stormed out the back door.
Presley reunited with Mia, Cole, and Grant at the bar.
Grant laughed. “Dude, that was crazy!”
Vincent stepped up and yawned. “Listen, children, I think I got all I need here.” He tapped his camera. “I’m off to meet my very civil friends.”
“Give me the car key.” Presley held her hand out to Vincent. “Now I have a chance to wear the fierce jumpsuit that was in the running tonight. A big event always demands a wardrobe change.”
“Everyone here is drunk,” said Mia. “No one will notice your dress.”
“Mia’s right,” added Cole. “Clothes will be covered with way worse.”
“I’m not drunk.” Presley grabbed Vincent’s sleeve. “Give me the damn key, Vincent! Remember that essentially, you work for us.”
“That’s harsh,” mumbled Grant.
Vincent eyed Grant and handed Presley the key.
“Salope,” he growled as he left. Grant watched him, looking torn.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Mia asked Presley.
“No, you stay. From the looks of Cole’s tongue down your throat, you’re having a good time.” Presley stormed out of the bar.
“I’ll go see if she’s okay.” Cole followed Presley out.
Eve found Mac leaning on the back wall of the building, smoking a cigarette.
“Clever exit,” she said.
“I wasn’t trying to be clever. I’m . . .” Mac touched his face, annoyed. “Sticky.”
“So you got a little daiquiri facial. Strawberries are good for your skin. And I want to get as many facials as possible for the rest of my fucking life. Tonight’s huge for us. Fireworks start in an hour and no one wants to see those straight. The rush is gonna start.”
“I’m not doing this anymore, Eve.”
“Don’t give me that snowflake shit, Mac. You are not pussying out during the busiest night of the year.”
“Yes. Yes, I am.” Mac tossed his smoke down and ground his heel into it. “I’m balling up and going to tell Otto I’m out.”
Eve took her smartphone out of her back pocket. “No, you’re not . . . unless you want me to show this video to that stuck-up slut wearing the Lyndon Wyld label.” She played the video of Mac having sex with Presley. “I’ll show it to her and then I’ll make sure that her boss gets it. You know we dirty locals are off-limits.”
Mac shoved Eve against the wall. “Don’t you fucking threaten me!”
Eve punched him in the chest. “It’s not a threat.”
“Hi.” Cole stepped from a shadow. Mac moved away from Eve.
“What’s up?” Eve squinted at Cole.
Cole’s response was tentative and halting, “Um, Ruby said I could find you out here.”
“She did, did she?” Eve side-eyed Mac with satisfaction. “What are you looking for?”
“Anything that will make tonight’s fireworks even more, you know, memorable,” answered Cole, failing to hide his nerves.
“How about advice?” said Mac. “You’ll get the best view at Steps Beach. Everyone’ll tell you Jetties, but Steps is a little more out of the way. It’s to the side of Jetties, down a long set of stairs off Lincoln Avenue that lead down to the beach.”
“That sounds nice,” said Cole.
Mac continued, “There are some cozy nooks in the dunes down there. I noticed you and that little Lyndon Wyld pistol are getting pretty close.”
Eve chuckled and pointed at Cole. “I don’t think this gentleman is looking for free travel tips.”
“Though I appreciate them,” said Cole.
“Take a little toot of this.” Eve pulled a packet of white powder from her bra. “Unless you like to enjoy it a different way. Believe me, with this, it won’t matter where you watch the fireworks.”
“I don’t need a taste. I believe you,” said Cole. “How much?”
“No reason to be shy.” Eve smiled. “We don’t judge.”
“I don’t judge what I don’t see. This is all you.” Mac pointed his forefingers at Eve and Cole. He walked off to his truck, got in, and drove off.
As Cole turned to Eve, Frank opened the back door and leaned out.
“Hey, we’re drowning in here!” he yelled.
Cole shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Can’t a girl have a smoke?” Eve pulled cigarettes from her black pleather work fanny pack around her waist.
“Inhale quick. The drinks don’t serve themselves.” Frank disappeared back inside.
Eve raised an eyebrow at Cole.
Mia sat at the bar, chin in her hand, tapping her fingers. The celebrations around her had reached a pinnacle. The DJ worked the partiers, who pumped their fists and nodded their heads until he dropped the beat and more ear-piercing insanity ensued. The pool table, darts, and ping-pong tables were all busy. She waited, glancing at her smartphone. Ten minutes passed, then twenty. She looked around, feeling like she couldn’t have been more alone in a room with more people.
Grant joined her. “Hey, why the long face?” He looked around. “Where’s Cole?”
“I don’t know,” said Mia. “I thought I did, but I don’t.”
He put his arm around her. “You don’t need Cole, Mia. You got me.”
“I appreciate the o
ffer, Grant.” Mia smiled at him. “But no thanks.”
“Hey, why haven’t we hooked up?”
“Because that would be like hooking up with my brother,” answered Mia.
“You just made it weird.” Grant pulled his arm from around Mia. His smartphone buzzed on the bar. On the home screen, he saw a text from Ruby:
Evry1’s at the beach. Pool 2 myself.
Grant poked himself in the chest. “Yohhhhh! I called it!” He checked Ruby’s Instagram. Her latest post was a photo of a sparkling pool and her Wear National bikini top floating in it. “She’s such a tease!” He groaned. The geotag Wear National July 4th Party revealed the estate’s address. “You’re right. I shouldn’t go.”
“Is that the only reason you’re not going?” asked Mia.
“That and if I bang her, and Lyndon finds out, I’ll probably get fired.”
“Classy. And why would she find out?”
Grant widened his eyes at her. Mia shook her head. “I might be a worrier, but I’m no snitch.”
“You, Lyndon, and Grace are tight.” He wound his first two fingers together.
Mia took his hand and held it. “I wouldn’t tell them.”
“What about Cole? Are you going to tell him?” asked Grant.
“No,” answered Mia. “But he’s no snitch either. If he ghosts me completely, he’s a dick. But he’s no snitch.”
“Sold! I’m gonna go.” Grant jumped off the bar stool. He jogged out the door, giving a few girls a pat on the booty before he left.
“Have fun,” Mia said to no one. She was alone in a bar filled to the rafters with people. They had gone from six seasonaires to four to one in what seemed to Mia like minutes. She put her elbows back on the bar, her chin in her hands. She waited twenty more minutes but Cole never returned.
The three girls huddled next to her talked and drank wine. One was the shop girl who worked at Modern Vintage. She was wearing the purple A-line skirt she’d encouraged Mia to buy. She leaned in toward the others. “My roommate was so wasted, she couldn’t remember what happened.” She shook her head. “She woke up on the floor of the fraternity bathroom, missing her underwear.”
“That’s so fucked up,” said a girl with a pixie haircut. “So she was—?”
Modern Vintage Girl nodded. “She went to the administration. They wouldn’t do shit—said she needed to practice ‘more responsible drinking.’ My roommate was doing a lot more than drinking, but that doesn’t give some asshole the right to take advantage.” She noticed Mia staring at them and waved. “Hey, weren’t you at—?”