The Party

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The Party Page 26

by Robyn Harding


  It took a beat to sink in. Jeff looked at his wife, her eerily calm demeanor, her quiet resolve, and he knew. It was over. He felt anger swell up inside of him. “Are you serious? Hannah’s best friend just tried to kill herself and you’re asking me for a divorce?”

  “Not right now,” Kim said. “I don’t want to upset the kids even more. But going forward, I think it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Jesus Christ …” He felt like he was going to cry again. They had been miserable for so long, Jeff had considered leaving a thousand times, but his wife’s words were so resolute and so final… . It made his heart ache.

  Kim reached for his hand. “I want to love you, Jeff. And I want you to love me … but we just don’t anymore.”

  “I do,” he croaked through the lump in his throat. And it was true … in this moment, anyway. Despite years of antipathy at worst, apathy at best, he suddenly realized there were feelings there, buried under all the anger and bitterness.

  “We care for each other, but we don’t love each other, not like we should. I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of worrying about what everyone else thinks. I just want to give Lisa her money so she can take care of Ronni… . I just want to stop fighting.”

  He nodded, relating to the feeling. But ending a marriage should not be done on a whim. His wife was being reactive, she hadn’t thought this through. “This will change your lifestyle, Kim. A lot.” It wasn’t intended as a threat, but it sounded like one. Still … Kim had to be warned. If they sold up and gave all their profits to Lisa, their lives would have to change drastically. He couldn’t afford two mortgages on his salary, not without Kim contributing. “You’ll end up in a tiny apartment. No more Pilates, salon visits, shopping, lunches …”

  For the first time, Kim’s composure faltered. “I don’t care,” she snapped, getting up off the couch. “All I care about is giving Lisa her money.” She stalked off, disappearing somewhere into the bowels of their house.

  Jeff stayed where he was, collecting his thoughts. His wife was in shock; she wasn’t being logical. When Ronni got better … or, God forbid didn’t get better, they would have a rational conversation about their future. Sure, Jeff and Kim were unhappy, but plenty of married people were unhappy. That didn’t mean they had to destroy the life they’d built together. And Kim couldn’t just walk away from him. She had nowhere to go! She didn’t even have a job! This wasn’t the end of their marriage, it was just … a turning point.

  He got up, went to the fridge and grabbed a beer. Even Kim couldn’t begrudge him a drink on a day like today. As the bitter liquid poured down his throat, he resolved to fight for his marriage… . But why? Was it automatic? Expected? He didn’t know. He drained the bottle and reached into the fridge for another. Returning to the couch, he sat alone in the dimly lit living room, sipping his beer. As the alcohol fogged his thoughts, his analysis of his marriage, his life, became even more convoluted. Jeff didn’t know what he was fighting for—and he didn’t know why… . He just knew he wasn’t ready to let it all go.

  hannah

  SIX MONTHS AND FOUR DAYS AFTER

  Hannah sat in English class and stared out the window. It was the third week of junior year, but it still felt new … strange, and different, like she’d changed schools but she hadn’t. Her teacher, Ms. Chan, was assigning homework, and Hannah knew she should pay attention, but her focus remained on the damp parking lot outside the window … and on Lauren Ross’s car.

  It was a MINI Cooper, not the luxury model Hannah would have expected Mr. Ross to buy for his daughter. But maybe the smaller, cheaper car was punishment for Lauren driving Ronni to drink drain cleaner? Hannah wasn’t making light of the incident, but the way all the parents had reacted was pretty comical. Hannah’s parents had decided to blow up her life; Lauren got new wheels.

  Lauren didn’t go to Hillcrest anymore, her parents determining that the school was to blame for their daughter becoming the anti-Christ. They transferred her to an all-girls religious school where they wore demure uniforms and prayed every morning. Darren and Monique Ross must have hoped Lauren would find new, pious friends with charitable life goals, like building an orphanage in India, or teaching refugees to speak English. But if Lauren had friends at her new school, she didn’t spend much time with them. Almost every day, Lauren returned to the Hillcrest parking lot, sat in her compact car, and waited.

  Hannah tore her eyes from the soft grayness outside back to the harsh fluorescence of the classroom. Ms. Chan was writing their Hamlet assignment on the whiteboard, her marker tapping along the shiny surface like a manic woodpecker. Hannah dutifully copied the words into her notebook, but her mind remained fixed on the occupant of the car outside.

  The change in social order since last year was absolute. Lauren and Ronni were gone, Sarah Foster was on top. The stylish Sarah had long been poised for a takeover: she was pretty enough, cool enough, and ruthless enough. The only question that remained was which of her sycophantic friends would become her number two. Sarah was the new Lauren, no question; the jury was still out on the new Ronni.

  Hannah’s gaze drifted from her paper to Noah Chambers, sitting across the room, third desk from the front. Last year, Hannah would have been thrilled to have a class with Noah. She would have struggled to maintain a decent grade, distracted by his proximity, his woodsy scent, his square jaw, and broad shoulders… . Last year, he had been her boyfriend … for a few months at least. It seemed like a daydream, a blip, like it never really happened. Was it normal to have such intense feelings for someone one day and feel basically nothing for them the next? She should ask her parents.

  In a way, Noah’s transformation was the most remarkable. Last year, he’d been cool and cocky, roaming the school with his popular, arrogant posse. This year, he was sullen and withdrawn, traversing the halls with a scowl, keeping to himself, except for Manny Torres, a bookish kid Noah knew from elementary school. Apparently, Noah’s parents had come down hard on him after the Ronni incident. (Despite their former relationship, Hannah knew nothing of Noah’s family life. They’d never really gotten beyond talking about music and parties and their mutual love of ramen.) But Noah’s parents had determined he’d been running with a bad crowd and they were concerned about his character. No one knew how they enforced it, but their son had turned himself into a studious loner at his parents’ request.

  As if on cue, Noah’s former best friend appeared outside the window, walking, with forced casualness, toward the MINI. Adam must have skipped last period, or just walked out of class early. The kid was untouchable. He was the reason for Lauren’s presence in the school parking lot practically every day. They’d been dating since the summer, brought together by Ronni’s trauma and its subsequent fallout. Had Lauren liked Adam all along? Was that why she had turned on Ronni? No one would ever know … except Lauren.

  Hannah’s lips curled with distaste as she watched the boy cross the parking lot. He emanated cruelty, arrogance, misogyny … he was a perfect fit for that bitch Lauren. If Adam had followed his girlfriend to some religious school, Hannah’s junior year might have been tolerable. But Adam had stayed at Hillcrest. He was always there to sneer when Hannah walked past, to whisper cruel comments to his friends, to remind her of the ugliness of last year… .

  Everyone knew that Adam had started the cyberbullying campaign against Ronni. There were various rumors as to why he was never punished, the most plausible being that he’d convinced an eager-to-please Chinese exchange student to set up the social media pages and administer most of the assaults. The student had left the country and with him went the evidence. Adam got off scot-free. Of course, some elite cybercrime unit could have pulled proof off of a server somewhere, but apparently, elite cybercrime units had bigger fish to fry. And it wasn’t like the student body was going to point fingers at Adam; they’d all seen what he was capable of.

  Adam was climbing into the passenger seat now, closing the door behind him. Through the windshield, Hannah
could just see him leaning toward Lauren Ross. The girl’s hands wrapped around his neck and they kissed. And kissed. Adam’s eyes must have miraculously grown farther apart, because Lauren seemed really into him. The car windows were starting to fog up and Hannah turned away, mildly sickened. The two were a match made in hell.

  The bell rang to end class, to end the week, and to end her stay with her dad. Every Friday, Hannah and her brother changed homes, shuttling between her dad’s spacious but virtually empty condo in Presidio Heights and her mom’s modest two-bedroom and den apartment in the Upper Haight. Hannah gathered her books and shuffled toward her locker. She felt tired, exhausted at the thought of relocating her life, yet again. Her mom said they’d get used to it, but they’d already had a couple months’ practice and the process still left Hannah feeling drained. She’d probably be off at college before she got comfortable with the arrangement.

  At her locker, she collected her homework for the weekend. After her brief flirtation with popularity, Hannah was focused on school again. It wasn’t like she had a choice. Her social life had slowed to a trickle, and this was an important year if she wanted to get into a good college, which she did. Her backpack was nearly bursting with textbooks as she closed her locker door. Thankfully, her dad had offered to drop her and Aidan’s personal items off at her mom’s apartment that evening, as usual. He always texted them from his car and asked them to meet him out front. But last week, he’d helped Aidan carry his science project to Kim’s apartment. Her mom was surprised by Jeff’s presence, but her parents had been civil and polite. Hannah had left them to unpack her suitcase in her tiny room when she heard them chuckling about something. Hannah realized she hadn’t heard her parents laugh together since she was in eighth grade. What the hell was so funny now?

  As she clicked her lock in place, her friends strolled up to her. “Are we going to work on our psychology project?” Marta asked.

  “Sure,” Hannah said. “I’m going to my mom’s, so you can come over if you want. She’ll be at work till late.”

  “Your mom’s like Sheryl Sandberg now,” Caitlin joked. “She’s, like, leaning in all over the place.”

  “Yeah, except she’s writing websites, not running Facebook.”

  “Too bad.”

  “I’ll say it’s too bad,” Hannah said, hoisting her heavy load onto her back. “Then I’d have a driver instead of having to run to catch the stupid bus.”

  “The loser cruiser,” Marta quipped, and Hannah rolled her eyes.

  “I’ll bring snacks,” Caitlin said. “When should we come over?”

  “Whenever,” Hannah said, her lack of enthusiasm evident. Her friends would assume her indifference was due to their homework project, but it was the thought of munching Doritos, discussing hot celebrities, and gossiping about which teacher was sleeping with which, that Hannah was really dreading. She should have been grateful that Marta and Caitlin had taken her back after everything that had happened. She was grateful. When things had gone off the rails with Hannah’s popular crew, she’d wanted nothing more than the familiar comfort of her old clique. But now, months later, the reality of their friendship was just so … mundane. Caitlin and Marta were nice; they were kind; they were good people… . Maybe that was the problem?

  She had to muster some exuberance. “How’s four thirty?” Hannah asked. “I’ll heat up some delicious frozen taquitos.”

  “Yum!” Caitlin said sincerely, as Hannah walked off.

  THE BUS RIDE from school to her mom’s wasn’t long, but it was still pretty gross. Before they’d moved, Hannah was able to walk to and from school. Now, she had to rely on transit to get to both her parents’ homes. She stared out the window, taking in the gritty urbanity of the Haight, so different from the sunny sleepiness of Potrero Hill. She kind of liked the new neighborhood; it had edge, it had personality … it suited her: not the Hannah she was but the Hannah she’d become. Sure, she missed their old house, but a new family lived there now: a husband, a wife, and two cute, blond daughters. Were they as perfect as they looked from the outside? Or were they, like Hannah’s family before them, just putting on a show?

  The bus stopped a block and a half from her mom’s apartment. It wasn’t far, but it was all uphill. With her burden of books, she trudged toward home. Ahead, she saw a man crouching near a shopping cart loaded with the leftovers of a life. He was fortyish, dirty, his hair matted, but he was smiling as she approached.

  “Hey, Hannah.”

  “Hey, Pete.”

  “Wanna buy some crack?”

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  As she continued past him, he said, “Study hard, girl! Stay in school!”

  “I will… .” A few months ago, Hannah could not have imagined being on a first-name basis with a homeless drug dealer. Her parents had always kept her sheltered from the rough side of her city. But things were different now. This was her new reality: two apartments, transit, friendly relations with drug addicts… . The fallout from the party had fucked up her life royally. But still, Hannah’s life wasn’t the most changed.

  Ronni had recovered … well, she had lived; recovery was up for debate. Some people said she’d lost her voice completely. Others said she could talk but her larynx was so severely damaged that she croaked and wheezed like an old lady who’d smoked for forty years. Some said she had PTSD and had to be homeschooled, but no one knew for sure. As soon as Ronni had been sent home from the hospital, Lisa had whisked her away to New York State. Lisa had a sister there. And with three million dollars in the bank, the Monroes could set up a nice little home.

  Hannah had searched for Ronni on social media. Not surprisingly, she hadn’t found her. If it were Hannah who had been driven to attempt suicide because of cyberbullying, Kim would have moved her into some Amish community with no technology. At the very least, Kim would have made sure she stayed off Facebook, Snapchat, Instagram… . Lisa would be just as vigilant with Ronni.

  The Haight was full of colorful, intricate Victorian and Edwardian houses, but Kim’s building was squat, nondescript, constructed sometime in the eighties. Hannah let herself into the musty lobby and climbed the carpeted stairs, her mind still fixed on her former friend. If Hannah was in Ronni’s shoes, she’d change her name and live as an entirely new person… . Mia Harper from Seattle. Mia’s voice was raspy because she’d been a singer in a screamer band and she’d lost her eye when their tour bus crashed. Everyone would buy the story—why would they not?—and Ronni would be accepted, even admired at her new high school.

  Of course, it was entirely possible that Lisa and Ronni had become millionaire recluses, hiding out in an isolated mansion, emerging only once a month to pick up supplies. Maybe they could be happy that way, the two of them against the world. Like that documentary she’d watched with her mom about that weird mother and daughter: Big and Little Edie. They were batshit crazy, but they were basically fine.

  Hannah wanted Ronni to be okay, in fact, she needed her to be okay. Because she still cared about Ronni, still felt bad about what had happened to her at the party… . But it was more than that. If Ronni wasn’t okay, it meant Lauren Ross had won. It meant that Lauren had destroyed her best friend, had driven her to attempt suicide, had stolen her guy… . It meant Lauren was still on top, and the thought made Hannah’s chest fill with rage and loathing.

  She reached door 202 and let herself into the quiet apartment. Aidan wasn’t home yet—he remained devoted to his soccer career despite the disruption to his domestic life—and her mom was still at work. It was sort of ironic how her mom had resented her dad’s long hours at the office, and now Kim worked just as hard. Her mom’s new job title was user-experience architect. When Aidan heard it, he’d remarked, “You haven’t worked in years. You can’t just start designing buildings.” Hannah had laughed at him (she didn’t know what a user-experience architect was, either, but she did know it had nothing to do with construction). Their mom had explained her responsibilities: writing and design
ing websites and applications with the end user in mind. Something like that anyway. It sounded super boring to Hannah, but her mom seemed to love it. Kim was tired (every time they sat down to watch TV or a movie, she promptly fell asleep), and she wasn’t quite as polished as she used to be (Hannah had seen her covering her gray roots with mascara on more than one occasion), but her mom seemed happy. She seemed fulfilled. It wasn’t fair… .

  Hannah dropped her bag off in her room and walked through the cluttered living room to the kitchen. The furniture in the apartment was cobbled together: modern pieces from their old house mixed with thrift-shop finds. Somehow, it worked. It was eclectic. Kim still had a knack for decor. In contrast, her dad’s apartment was sparse, almost barren. He had lots of space and a great view of the Presidio, but the apartment lacked personality. Jeff compensated for this with a huge flat-screen TV and a great sound system. Both abodes were adequate and comfortable; her parents were trying … but they didn’t feel like home, not yet. Hannah was sure they never would.

  Hannah looked in the fridge: packaged gyoza, packaged tortellini, a jar of spaghetti sauce, and a lemon. It was a far cry from the homemade, healthy snacks her mom used to prepare for her kids every day. Hannah grabbed the open box of taquitos from the freezer. Had her mom even read the ingredients? Calculated the nutritional content? The sodium level was off the charts! But Hannah put them on a pan and stuck them in the oven. Salt was pretty low on her list of things to worry about.

  When her parents had announced their “separation,” Hannah had been angry. After all the shit she’d been through, she couldn’t believe her mom and dad were selling the house, splitting up, and making her and Aidan ferry between them like some misaddressed parcel. Hannah had blamed Ronni then. If not for her friend’s selfish act, Hannah would be living in her beautiful house, in her spacious room, with both her parents. But the Sanderses wanted to give Lisa her money, and selling the house was the only way. Hannah had hated them all then—Lisa and Ronni, Kim and Jeff… . But it was a waste of energy. Hannah needed to save all her hate for Lauren. And she needed to focus on rebuilding her life.

 

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