The four of us stood there, right inside the gate. This wasn’t like any party I’d ever been to. Most of our parties were held in basements, the Sex Pistols cranked, couples making out in dark corners, people passing beers and cigarettes and the occasional joint. Not this outdoorsy thing, with a white tent shading part of the yard, covering a long row of tables and benches that were set like it was the Last Supper and not some Fourth of July barbecue.
I was the first to spy the huge metal buckets, filled with ice and water, beer bottlenecks peeking out the tops. I made a beeline for them, grabbed a Bud, twisted off the cap, and downed three-quarters of it in one long gulp. It was too much too quick, and the minute after I swallowed, I let out this belch that was so loud, it embarrassed even me. Some dudes in shorts and black kneesocks turned to see the source of the noise, so I grinned and waved and tried to pretend like everything was cool.
Seattle brushed by me to grab a beer of her own, muttering, “So much for the dry party.”
I didn’t take the bait, deciding my energy was better spent trying to locate Sarah in a sea of golf dads and silky-blond soccer moms. All the kids, I guessed, were either in the pool or near it. I focused my attention there, and sure enough, not thirty seconds later I saw Sarah pulling herself out using the ladder. She was showing more of her skin than I’d ever seen—in real life, anyway—and man, it was a sight to behold, her tanned and toned bod against a white bikini top and flag-patterned swim shorts.
I swatted Jess on the arm and pointed my chin toward Sarah. “That’s her,” I said.
“Dude,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Dude,” he said again.
“I told you,” I said. “You get it now?”
He nodded without saying another word.
Sarah greeted me with a quick hug, her wet bikini top barely making contact before she pulled away. It didn’t stop me from popping an instant boner, which would have been tragic had I been the kind of person who didn’t wear shorts two sizes too big.
The spirit of Rod was surely watching over me.
Sarah turned to Jesse and introduced herself to him. As they shook hands she said, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you, too,” he said, grinning. “A lot. All good, though, so no worries.”
“Really?” Sarah said. She was smiling, but it was the kind of smile you wear to mask something else. Jesse’s gushing had probably thrown her off a bit.
Before I could get her away from him, Sarah excused herself to say hello to more guests. She didn’t indicate whether I should follow her, so I hesitated. The pause gave me time to hear Sea trying to bum a smoke off one of the nearby golf dads. He was holding a small plate of deviled eggs and there was a pack of Marlboro reds poking out the top pocket of his patriotic-plaid shirt.
“Aren’t you a little too young to be smoking?” he asked, not unkindly.
“Aren’t you a little too fat to be eating those?” she shot back.
As if on automatic pilot, I grabbed Sea’s arm and started dragging her back toward the gate, throwing an “excuse us” over my shoulder almost as an afterthought.
“Get off me,” she growled, trying to shake free.
I dug into her arm even harder. “What is your problem?”
“Let go!”
“I will not let you start any trouble here, you got me? So you’d better behave.”
“Or what?” she snarled.
“Listen,” I said, starting to twist her arm a bit. “I don’t know why you hate that girl so much. But you know what? I like her. I like her a lot. And you know what else? She likes me, too. And I’m probably going to sleep with her later tonight, because her goddamned boyfriend was too stupid to leave his jock friends and play escort at this party.
“So if you do anything—anything at all—to screw this up for me . . . I will make you pay.”
“Ooh, I’m so scared.”
“Good,” I said. “You should be.”
I threw her arm down and walked away.
seattle
Bruised
My first instinct was to grab Scott and get the hell out. But my pride was way stronger than Critter’s grip, and I knew if I slinked away, he would win. It was all about power, and who had it. If I stayed, I might be able to wrestle some of it back.
So I picked my chin up off my boobs, as Layla liked to say, and marched forward. Scott started walking toward me, this concerned Boy Scout look on his face. “What was that all about?” he asked. “Did he hurt you?”
Before I could answer, Jesse grabbed my non-bruised arm and I was dragged away for the second time in five minutes.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked.
“Me? What am I doing? Did you see him assault me?”
Jesse snorted. “Stop antagonizing him. He’s only giving you a hard time because you’ve been so moody lately.”
I pulled away from him. “Thanks a lot.”
“Come on, Sea. Let’s get real, okay? You’re acting weird. You have been ever since you guys went to that pool the first time.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Yeah, and . . . ?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m imagining things. But . . . did something happen between you and Critter?”
“What do you mean by ‘happen’? We’re fighting, that’s what happened.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “It’s just . . . you guys have been acting really off. Like, jealous and possessive of each other. More like—”
“Like what?” I demanded.
Jesse sighed. “Never mind.”
I stomped back over to Scott, so pissed off that I could actually feel the scowl stamped on my face.
“Seattle,” he said. Just my name, nothing else—but his voice was so tender. If I had been a weaker person, it might have made me break.
“What?” I snapped.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on!” I said. “I’m just hungry. Jesus. Aren’t you hungry?”
He didn’t answer me; he only kept giving me that concerned look of his.
“Well, I am,” I said. “I’m famished.”
He didn’t look completely convinced, but he definitely seemed less concerned. “Okay, let’s get some food.”
There were all these food stations scattered across the yard. One for finger food, another for lemonade and punch, and another that was a full-on bar, surrounded by these giant tubs of beers. It was like something you’d see in a magazine. Plus, there were flags everywhere. Fabric flags, plastic flags, flags pinned on a circus tent they had set up in one corner like a mess hall. And there were Survivor tiki torches planted throughout, each one gussied up with a stars-and-stripes ribbon bow. There were even these totally tacky flag-patterned pinwheels marking a path toward the circus tent/mess hall. Not to mention the people. Almost all of them had on those flag T-shirts that Old Navy and the Gap hawked each year. Literally flags as far as the eye could see.
When we reached the finger food station, Scott said, “Oh, excellent—they have crudités.”
“Crew-da-what?”
“Crudités,” he repeated, smiling. Then he leaned in, like he was about to share a state secret, and stage-whispered, “It’s a fancy word for raw vegetables.” He grabbed a baby carrot, chomped down on it, and gave me a wink.
We filled our flag plates with more crudités, some of those deviled eggs I saw the fat guy eating earlier, and fruit kabobs. Then we walked over to a willow tree in the far back corner of the yard and took a seat under it. Scott swirled a piece of cauliflower into some green dip he’d spooned on his plate, and I watched his mouth as he ate it.
“Do you want to try some?” he asked.
“Sure.”
He dunked a fresh piece of cauliflower into the green goop and held it up to my mouth. It surprised me, him trying to feed me, so at first I didn’t do anything; I just sat there like some kind of idiot.
“Go on,” he said.
“It’s pretty good.”
I took the chunk and my lips brushed his fingers. Hot sparks flowed throughout my entire bod. Somehow cauliflower dipped in green goop had just become about the sexiest thing going. I swallowed hard.
“Are we ever gonna do it?” I blurted out.
“Do what?”
“You know,” I said. “It.”
“Oh,” Scott said. “I don’t know, are we?”
“You tell me.”
His eyebrows bunched up some, like he was deep in thought, and he set his plate aside. “You know,” he said after a while. “This is the second time you’ve propositioned me for sex.”
“And it’s the second time you’ve acted like you don’t want to sleep with me.”
“Seattle,” he said, in the meat-tenderizer voice. “Of course I want to sleep with you.”
“So what’s the problem?”
Scott sighed. “I don’t think it’s the right time.”
“I didn’t know there could be a wrong time for boys,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “Maybe it’s more like I’m the wrong person.”
“No,” he said. “That’s not it at all.”
I looked away. “Whatever.”
Scott’s lips brushed my shoulder, giving me gooseflesh all over. He leaned into my ear real close and said softly, “Will you at least let me explain?” I nodded, and when his right hand crawled over to my left one, I let him lace his fingers through mine.
“I didn’t want to tell you until after the party,” he began, “but I got this message when I was out with you the other day. The thing is there’s a really good possibility that I’ll have to go home sooner than I thought.”
Katja.
He was still talking, but I’d already tuned him out. I should’ve known this would happen. When I first met Scott I thought we’d hook up a couple of times and then he’d fly back to Washington and that would be the end of it. After the other day, though . . . I’d fooled myself into thinking he might really like me—that maybe this thing had long-term potential. He wasn’t my boyfriend, but it was the closest I’d ever come to feeling like someone’s girlfriend. Too bad I was only a place-holder, until his real girlfriend came to claim him.
“. . . and it’s a really great opportunity,” he continued. “I’d be a manager for Treasures of Trash, which is a program offshoot of Habitat for Humanity. Basically I’d be going through donated building materials and seeing what can be salvaged for—”
“You should’ve told me you still loved her,” I interrupted.
“What? Who?”
“Isn’t that really why you’re going back?” I asked. “For Katja.”
He shook his head. “Katja’s in Austin, but even if she wasn’t—”
And that’s when it happened. Sarah was standing by the lemonade, pouring herself a glass, when I saw a tall dark-haired guy come up from behind, throw his arms around her waist, and hug her so tightly her feet came up off the ground. Then he turned her around and started kissing her—really kissing her— with his hands pressed against her starred-and-striped butt cheeks.
I knew in a heartbeat that it was her boyfriend, the one Critter thought she’d gotten rid of. Scott was saying something about the job when I jumped up so fast I knocked him in the nose.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’ve got to go.”
I had to find Critter before he found her.
The backyard was big but not enormous, so it shouldn’t have been too hard to locate him. Especially since he was wearing that ridiculous hat. The problem was that there were way too many people crammed into the space, and everyone was wearing the same damned colors, so no one person really stood out.
I closed the lid on a cooler and climbed on top, craning my neck until I found him. He was loading up a plate at the finger food station, which wasn’t so very far from the lemonade station, where Sarah and her boyfriend were mauling each other. I leapt off the cooler and was jogging over to Critter when he turned and saw them. I knew he did, because he got that deer-in-headlights look on his face. Then he set his plate down, but he put it too far over the table’s edge and it fell onto the grass. He didn’t even notice.
He started walking toward them, and I thought about intervening but had a feeling it would make things worse. So I hung back a little, close enough to hear what they were saying, but not so close that Critter knew I was there.
“Sarah,” he said.
She ducked away from her boyfriend, wiped the corner of her mouth with the side of her hand, and giggled. “Oh, hi, Critter. This—this is Duncan Mackenzie.”
Duncan gave a little wave and said, “Don’t I know you?”
“He goes to Haley,” Sarah explained. “I met his sister while guarding at the pool and the three of us hung out a bit.”
Critter didn’t say another word; he just stared at her. “Nice to meet you,” Duncan said, but he was looking off into the distance. He must’ve spotted someone he knew, because he shouted out a “yo,” tapped Sarah on the arm, and said, “Looks like Andy Rockwell brought his new girlfriend. We should go say hi and check her out.”
She nodded, and as Duncan led her away, she turned to face my brother and mouthed a silent apology. But if she felt bad, she didn’t let it faze her, because less than a minute later she was hugging that Andy guy and squealing like a little girl.
Critter still hadn’t moved. I went up to him and touched his arm. “Hey,” I said.
“What do you know?” He blinked a few times and took off his hat. “Guess I won’t be getting any after all.”
I knew him well enough to know that right this second sex was the furthest thing from his mind. He’d meant what he’d said before about really liking her.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“No you’re not.”
“I am,” I said. “It was a shitty thing for her to do.”
He didn’t disagree. “Go get your boyfriend. Jess, too. I’ll meet you in the car.” He took what looked like a cassette tape from his pocket, dropped it on the ground, and smashed it with his foot as he walked away.
Just like that, the party was over.
My Kingdom for a Kiss
N o one said anything on the drive home. It was so dark and quiet in the car that I felt like we were leaving someone’s funeral instead of what was supposed to be a fun summer barbecue.
At the house, I tried to send Scott on his way, but he insisted we talk.
“What’s there to talk about?” I asked. “My summer class starts tomorrow, so it’s not like we’d have spent that much time together anyway.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.” He reached for my hand but I jerked away.
“Seriously?” I said. “You should go.”
“But—”
“I’m fine. Right now I need to take care of my brother.”
Inside, Jesse was making a grilled cheese sandwich. “I didn’t get to eat,” he explained. “You want one?”
“No thanks.”
“So,” he said, “I guess you were right about the pool bunny, huh?”
Oddly enough, I didn’t care about being right. All I kept seeing was that hurt expression on Critter’s face— the one that looked exactly how I felt. “I’m going to go talk to him.”
Jesse winced. “You think that’s a good idea right now?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I do.”
As I headed upstairs, I could hear one of Critter’s favorite Rod Stewart songs—“Broken Arrow.” A syrupy ballad at best, but once he’d told me that he didn’t mind the cheese, because the song sounded like what he thought love must feel like.
I knocked on the door.
“Go away,” he yelled.
He had the song on repeat; I let it play through two more times before knocking again.
“I said go away!”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “So open the door.”
He swore some, but eventually the lock clicked and the door swung open. Critter flopped ba
ck onto his bed. The clothes he’d worn to Sarah’s party were in a heap on the floor, except for his cutoffs, which he still had on.
I sat on the edge of the bed. “I really am sorry, Critter.”
“Whatever.”
“That’s my line,” I joked. He didn’t respond. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Nope.”
“I know things have been weird the past couple of weeks,” I said, “but we used to talk about everything. I want you to know you still can.”
“No, I can’t.” He sat up, scooted off the end of the bed, and popped out the CD. “Things are different now.”
“Different how?”
“You know.”
And I guessed I did know, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t like the way things were turning out. I wanted it to be like it was before.
Critter plopped down to the floor in front of his bed, his back leaning against the mattress. He started flipping through a small stack of CDs, got disgusted, and pushed them away. I slid off the bed until I was sitting next to him. “I wish we’d never gone to that stupid pool.”
“Yeah?” he said. “Me too.”
Critter’s face was sort of crumpled up, like maybe he was going to start crying, and a strong, clear pain shot through my chest. I didn’t want to see him like this. Sad, and so small, like he was that kid I first met in Pappy’s Pizzeria all those years ago.
I bent down, slowly, over his bare shoulder, touching my lips to his hot skin. Lingering afterward, breathing on the spot I’d just marked with my mouth. Then I heard his sharp intake of breath and pulled away. Critter scrambled up off the floor and said, “Get out.”
“What? Why?”
He pulled on a T-shirt and shoved his feet into the sneakers he’d been wearing earlier. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll leave.”
“Where are you going?” I called after him, but he didn’t answer; he kept walking.
It was just one kiss, but I had a feeling it had changed everything.
critter
I Could Feel the Whole World Turn Around Underneath Me
I walked away from that house as fast as my feet could take me. I wasn’t sure what that kiss had been about, and I didn’t want to stick around and find out. The minute her mouth had connected with my shoulder, the only—and I mean only—thing I could think about was the shower incident.
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