And watching me to make sure that I get it.
Do you get it, Chris?
No.
Nothing about this I get.
I don't get this gym or this school or this ancient song that's strangely bringing tears to my eyes.
What is happening to you, man?
It must be the pain medication I'm on.
It must be the rabies I'm infected with.
It must be the glorious sight of this girl with her sweet smile who's watching me, who's smiling at me.
Without her, I wouldn't be at this dance.
Without her, this entire place would be completely miserable.
I know.
I know now.
Not dancing with her, not dancing in her arms, but standing there staring and watching her finally let go and have fun-
This is when I know that this deep bubbling ache inside is real.
It's not just because she looks like she does.
I can't help that.
I can't.
But it's because she's human and real and strangely intoxicating.
"Well, that's surely blown Lee's mind," Rachel says with a laugh.
Yeah. Mine too.
It's almost easy to believe that I'm back home at any party.
Almost.
For a moment I feel like there is hope for this place, for these people, for myself.
Yeah, that sounds horribly shallow, but that's what I'm thinking when I walk inside the house-I guess I can rightfully call it a mansion-and hear "The National Anthem" playing.
Not the actual national anthem, but the awesome live version off Radiohead's I Might Be Wrong album.
It seems like a cleansing after the beating I just took of Lynyrd Skynyrd and Kid Rock.
We followed Rachel and her date to the house after the dance. Lee is good friends with the guy who is holding the party: Ray Spencer. He's a popular senior I've seen around but never met in person. I guess for four years straight he's had this party. When Jocelyn tells me about it in her uninterested tone, as if I already know we're coming here, I pictured going to a tiny house where people are huddling outside in the back smoking and drinking beer.
But there's nothing tiny about this house. It's on the outskirts of Solitary, a fifteen-minute drive from the school. Even if held at gunpoint, I wouldn't have a chance driving back to the school or back home. The roads we take wander through the woods until we head up into the hills and arrive at a driveway that dips and circles around in front of the large mansion comprised of stone and logs.
Lights flood the outside. There are cars parked all along the road and the driveway. We find a slight spot next to what looks like a three-car garage-house next to the mansion, and Jocelyn parks. She seems familiar with this place.
I'm still just managing to pick my mind and soul off the dance floor from watching Jocelyn dance with Lee.
The house inside swarms with teenagers, some I recognize and some I don't. Jocelyn reads my mind as we're heading toward the kitchen past an immense wall decorated with family photos depicting perfection.
"A lot of these kids don't go to Harrington," she says. "Ray knows a lot of people."
I spot some kids holding beer cans, others holding cups that look like beer. I'm trying to figure out if this party if chaperoned or not.
When I get to the large kitchen, I see a spread on an island that doesn't look prepared by teens. It reminds me of the work parties my parents used to have catered.
It sounds like they're playing the entire Radiohead album. Awesome.
"Are his parents here?"
"I'm sure," Jocelyn says, continuing to lead me somewhere.
I follow her out an open sliding glass door to a deck. Floodlights illuminate the falling ground below. Jocelyn walks through some guys, who all smile at her and say her name. We get to the railing and look over it.
"You should see this during the day. Probably one of the most beautiful views in the country."
I just see the world falling into a sea of darkness below. I hear a familiar voice and turn to see Rachel.
"Hey, guys. Isn't this awesome?"
"This is Ray for you," Jocelyn says.
"Have you seen him?" Rachel asks.
"Not yet."
"Lee's getting something to drink. You guys want anything?"
"I'm fine," Jocelyn says quickly.
"Yeah, me, too."
"Look-excuse me for a moment," Jocelyn says, leaving Rachel and me alone.
"Just to warn you, she might be a little grouchy for a while. I'm sure it'll get better."
"Why?"
Rachel glances around, then brushes back her wild blonde hair out of her eyes. "She dated Ray for a while. Just a short while. Long enough, if you ask Jocelyn."
"Oh."
"Yeah. No chance she would have come here unless I was here. And you, too."
"Were they serious?"
"Serious? Lots of things with Joss are serious. But did she like the guy? Not really."
I nod. "What about him?"
"Oh, he was madly in love with her. Still is."
Rachel smiles, then spots Lee. She calls out his name and disappears into the crowd.
I stand out on the deck where some other kids, guys mostly, are talking and laughing and drinking.
I feel like a tool.
I wait for what seems like ten minutes or longer, then decide to head back into the house.
Maybe Jocelyn and Rachel are in the kitchen. Or somewhere else.
I search the kitchen and the open area next to it. A small table has a group around it with an assortment of food and drinks-mostly soda-in the middle of it. The room opens up into a family room with an L-shaped couch and a large television on the wall showing what looks to be a local football game.
I head into the next room, also full of kids.
Something's different here, however.
I feel it as soon as I step through the entryway.
There are three sofas all around a glass table, and everybody is circling and facing the table, watching what's going on.
At first I assume they're playing a game of cards or something.
But the faces suddenly turn, almost in unison-twentysomething faces looking at me like they're nameless, faceless, expressionless androids wondering what I'm doing here.
My skin prickles as I feel the chill in the air.
In the awkward silence I clear my throat.
I can't help glancing down at the table.
Just a quick peek.
I discover I'm right in one sense. On the table are about a dozen cards, larger than the ones my old buddies used to play poker. Their faces have all different colors on them, with images I can't make out from where I stand. I just know there are no numbers or symbols on them. No UNO or Old Maid emblems either.
Two stacks of the cards stand on the edges, their backsides completely black.
No-there's some type of small writing on each, like tiny cursive writing.
Suddenly I spot an ashtray. Yet nobody I can see is smoking, and there's no smell of cigarettes.
Something is glowing in the ashtray. Like a lit ember.
Then I feel a hand clap on my shoulder from behind me.
"Chris."
I turn and see Jocelyn, her face serious and pale and distressed.
"Get out of here," she says.
"What?"
She pulls me back into the family room and kitchen.
"I was looking for you," I say as we stand at the edge of a counter.
"You should've stayed put."
"What were they doing back there? What was that?"
"Nothing."
"Do you know?" I ask.
"It was nothing. Listen, just-dial down the curiosity factor, okay?"
I can't stop a nervous laugh. "I'm sorry, but I forgot to bring my tarot cards to the party."
"Don't."
"Don't what?" I ask.
"Don't go there. Those weren't tarot cards, okay
? Just-just be smart." Jocelyn edges up to me and speaks in a whisper. "There are things around here you can't begin to understand. Things not everybody knows about. Just stay with me and don't ask questions or appear nosy, got it?"
I want to ask why she's whispering, but I don't.
I'm convinced.
I simply nod and stay there, quiet.
She smiles a sweet, sad smile. "Why do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Just-you're impossible."
"What?"
"You're so easygoing, you know? Will you do anything I say?"
"Is that a bad thing?" I ask.
"No. I'm just not used to it."
"Getting your way?"
"Being listened to," Jocelyn says. "Being trusted."
"It's easy to listen to you. And trust you."
Jocelyn shakes her head.
"What?" I ask.
"You know-for being from the big city of Chicago, you act awfully naive at times."
"Sor " ry•
"No. It's-it's just ..."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"What is it?"
She shakes her head and sighs. "Fine."
"What?"
"It's endearing. Got it? I admitted it."
I laugh, and Jocelyn glances at me with mesmerizing eyes.
"What now?" she says.
"A compliment shouldn't be that hard to give."
"Yeah, well, you don't understand why I might be hesitant."
"No. But I have time."
"Time for what?"
"Time to learn why."
"Some things aren't worth listening to, Chris. Trust me. Some things you're better not knowing."
Ray Spencer is a snapshot of everything I want to be. He's good looking with messy-but not too messy-short blonde hair, the looks of a soccer player, and the smile of an actor. He looks like a poster child for Abercrombie & Fitch in his distressed jeans and plaid shirt rolled at the elbows. His handshake is firm, firm like a politician's. Not like that of a senior going to a high school in Nowhere, North Carolina.
He makes me feel about ten years old.
"Glad you could make it tonight. Has Jocelyn shown you around the place?"
"Not exactly," she says, standing right next to me like a bodyguard.
"Give him a tour," Ray says, his teeth practically glinting under the kitchen's canned lights. "You certainly know your way around here."
"We're fine right here." I can tell Jocelyn is annoyed and wants to end this conversation.
"I heard you had an interesting week," Ray says to me.
"Yeah, you can say that."
"Look-not everybody around here is like Gus. There are some cool people at Harrington-obviously you know that, because you're hanging around with a few of them."
"Ray here is the master of flattery."
"What?" he says to Jocelyn. "I'm being honest."
"Uh-huh."
"Where are you from again?" he asks me.
"Libertyville. A suburb of Chicago."
"My family's been to Chi-town a few times. Great place."
"Yeah."
The guy has an air about him, no doubt, but he reminds me of some of the guys back home. Of Brady, if Brady actually had some common sense. Even his voice doesn't carry an accent.
"I grew up in Colorado, in case you're wondering. Family relocated right before high school."
"Big change."
"It's all right. Going back there for college."
College is one of those far-off thoughts. I haven't even earned my license. College seems like it should be four years away, not a year and a half.
"So is Joss treating you well?" Ray asks with a smile.
"Sure."
"Shut up, Ray."
"What'd I say?"
"You know what you said," Jocelyn tells him.
"Joss, here, she's a feisty one. But that just makes her all the better, you know what I mean?"
"You can be a real jerk, you know that?"
Ray acts innocent, as though he has no idea what he said.
"Come on," Jocelyn says, heading toward the deck outside.
I start to follow her when Ray gets in my way.
"Hey, buddy-just a suggestion. Take it or leave it, okay? But I wouldn't get that serious if I were you. Joss is a lot of fun. A lot. But don't get too attached. She's not the one to hang your hat on. Trust me."
Without a word, I move around him to go find her.
I don't like the fact that he knows her better than I do.
Or the fact that they have a past.
I don't like the idea of this guy having had his paws all over her. He might look pretty and smell pretty, but that doesn't mean he isn't trash just like Gus.
The night air is cool, and I find Jocelyn standing by the railing looking off into the darkness.
"Where's Rachel?" I ask her.
"I don't know. I just-do you want to go?"
"Of course."
"I came here for her, and she's not even around. She's so lovesick over that little boy."
"Lee?"
"Yeah. One of Ray's boys, as I call him."
"We can go anytime."
She looks up at me with angry eyes. Her expression is tight and tough. "Don't you ever become like them."
"Like who?" I ask.
"Like all of them. Guys who think they're better than the rest."
I wish I had the courage to tell her that I'm not one of them and never will be.
I wish I had the guts to hug her and whisper that in her ear.
But though I believe this, I don't have the strength to tell her.
I don't have the guts to show that belief.
"Let's go," she says.
"Home?"
"No. Let's just go."
She drives for ten minutes into the winding country backroads that seem to get darker by the minute. We don't say much-not about the dance, or the party, or anything. The rock music in her car is loud, strangely making me feel worse than any silence might. Jocelyn eventually slows and heads down a small drive that is grown over with weeds and bushes. She stops in front of a small, abandoned wooden cabin.
If I was with anybody else, I might be completely freaked out.
Instead, I'm insanely curious where this is going.
"I used to live there, believe it or not," she says, the car lights still on and shining into dark holes that used to be windows. "I lived there with my parents. I've been with my aunt ever since they passed away."
"I'm sorry," I tell her.
"It's okay. I know that you get it."
For a moment, I start to ask why but then assume she's talking about the move and my parents' divorce.
Jocelyn turns off the engine and the lights, then faces me.
There's a bright moon out tonight. It's partially shrouded behind the trees and some clouds, but it's letting off enough light that I can make out her face and her lips.
I can't help but wonder what we're doing here.
She puts a hand on my leg. "You're a good guy, Chris. And I just want you to know-I get it. I understand."
I nod, lost, not sure what it is she gets or understands.
Not that I care really. At this moment, she's touching me, and she's looking at me, and I might just pass out any second.
"It's easy to feel like you'll never recover, but you will."
I start to shake. She feels it.
"Come here," she says, so comfortable, so in control. "It's okay."
But this just causes me to shake more.
She moves over and kisses me on the lips.
I've kissed girls before. A couple. But this just feels-it's strange. It's one thing to imagine this-and I sure have imagined this-but I'm feeling off balance sitting in her car in the darkness.
I stop the kiss before she does.
I move back and watch her eyes slowly open.
"What?" she asks in a soft voice.
"Nothing. I'm just-I'm sorry. I'm a bi
t-surprised, I guess."
"Why?"
"I just am."
"Have you never been with a girl before?"
"No, I just-well, I mean-"
Not only is my body shaking, but my words are coming out all mangled and messy.
Her hand wanders in the darkness. I suddenly realize that she's trying to undo my belt buckle.
"Jocelyn, no, come on," I say.
But she doesn't stop.
With a trembling hand I hold hers and put it back in her lap. Her eyes and her expression grow cold and confused.
"What?"
"Look, just, hold on. I mean-what's happening here? What's going on?"
"You're kidding, right?" she says.
"What?"
"Don't tell me you don't want this."
"Don't want-what? You?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I-I mean, yeah, of course, but I don't even know you."
"What do you want, a biography or something?"
Her tone and her words seem cruel, callous.
"You've wanted this since the first time you laid eyes on me, and you know it."
I feel like hyperventilating.
What is happening here? What did I do, and am I really doing this? Am I really telling her no?
But nothing about this seems right.
"Jocelyn-it's no big secret that I like you. Just like the rest of the school."
"Like the rest of the school, huh? What do you know about the rest of the school?"
"I'm just saying-
"I thought you were different from the rest of them."
"Yeah, so?"
"So you have to be that different? Do you have to be such a gentleman and rub it in my face?"
"I'm not rubbing anything in anybody's face."
"You're making me feel like some whore."
I let out a crazy and angry laugh. "What are you talking about?"
"Let's just go home."
I put my hand on her arm as it goes to start the car. She jerks it back, putting a finger back in my face. "Don't you dare touch me. Don't you dare put your hand on mine."
She's suddenly turned into a crazy woman.
I hold my hand out. "Jocelyn, talk to me."
"What?" she yells as she starts the car.
"Please, don't-don't drive just yet."
"This was a mistake."
"What's going on?"
"This was a mistake. Going to the dance and going to the party. The whole thing was a mistake. I should've never said yes."
I shake my head. "You asked me to go."
Solitary: A Novel Page 10