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At First Sight

Page 8

by Catherine Hapka


  “We’re just not ‘going out’ people, Lauren,” my mother said with a smile, reaching over to give Dad’s arm a fond squeeze. “Come to think of it, weren’t you asking the other day how we got together? Because that’s how.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She means that back in college, we were the two who always wanted to hang out at the dorm instead of hitting all the parties.” Dad shrugged. “And even now, we still have the most fun just spending time together like this.”

  “Okay, if you say so … ,” I said just as the doorbell rang. “That’s Britt. See you later.”

  “Don’t be too late,” Mom called after me as I headed down the hall.

  “And have fun!” Dad added. “Do some extra dancing for us!”

  “Wow. When Tommo said half of metro DC would be here, guess he wasn’t exaggerating,” Britt said as she threw her car into park.

  “At least not much,” I agreed. We’d finally found a free space where Britt could wedge her car in between a Prius and a motorcycle. The rest of the leafy suburban block was completely packed with vehicles of all shapes and sizes. And it wasn’t hard to tell where most of the drivers and passengers had gone. A stately Georgian-style house near the middle of the block was lit up like the Fourth of July, with loud music blaring out of every window. If the neighbors hadn’t called the police already, I was sure it was only a matter of time.

  Britt climbed out of the driver’s seat, smoothing down her trendy cami top and sleek True Religions. She shot me a look across the top of the car as I got out too. “Ready to rumble?” she asked, looking eager and confident. As always.

  “Sure, I guess.” I was feeling anything but eager and confident myself. More like nauseated. My stomach had started doing flips as soon as we’d reached Silver Grove. I wasn’t sure whether that was because I was afraid of running into Riley, or because I was hoping I would run into him. Frankly, the very possibility was giving me the major shivery chills.

  When we reached the party house, the front door was standing wide open. Inside we could see throngs of teenagers mingling and having fun. Loud voices competed with the blaring music, and the air was rich with the scents of sweat, beer, and cologne.

  Nobody paid much attention to us as we entered the foyer. Well, aside from the usual guys checking Britt out. She gets that everywhere she goes; I usually don’t even notice it anymore. Although this time I couldn’t help noticing that some of the guys were giving me the once-over, too. Yay for my awesome outfit!

  “How are we ever going to find Tommo in this crowd?” I asked, speaking directly into Britt’s ear so she could hear me over all the racket.

  Britt shrugged. “He’s not too hard to spot,” she shouted back.

  She had a point there. Tommo was the type of guy who’d be hard to miss even in the middle of a hurricane or something. We didn’t see him in the formal living room off to the right, where a couple of hippie chicks were doing some sort of interpretive dance while a bearded guy with glasses played the ukulele. I wasn’t sure how they heard him, since the hip-hop music from the next room was so loud it was making the whole house throb. But they seemed happy enough in their own little world. They didn’t even seem to notice the couple making out on the sofa, or the kid drawing on his own arm with a marking pen, or the two teams of meatheads laughing uproariously as they winged Doritos at each other.

  We pushed our way through all that to another room behind the first, where the music was even louder. That was because the house’s expensive-looking stereo system was in there. It was hard to tell what the room’s usual purpose was, since all the furniture had been shoved back against the walls to create a dance floor. At least two or three dozen people were currently bopping, grooving, grinding, and/or writhing to the beat while others were lined up around the edges to watch.

  I took a look around, feeling sort of like some kind of explorer in a foreign land. It was weird to be at a party where I didn’t recognize a soul. Or did I? I suddenly noticed a vaguely familiar blond head bouncing up and down at the far end of the room. I poked Britt on the shoulder.

  “I think Tommo’s over there,” I shouted in her ear, hoping she could hear me over the wall of bass blasting out of the stereo.

  Her eyes lit up as she looked where I was pointing. “Wish me luck!” she said.

  At least that was my best guess at what she said, based on prior knowledge of her speech patterns and some rough amateur lip-reading. I smiled and nodded, patting the pocket in my skirt to indicate my cell phone, which was set on vibrate. We’d already agreed on a bunch of secret code words and stuff that she could use if she wanted me to come rescue her.

  She pulled out a compact and quickly checked her face and hair, then hurried off. That left me alone in the sea of strangers. I glanced around, but there wasn’t a familiar face in sight.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” A guy I’d never seen before paused to look me up and down as he passed. He seemed to like what he saw, since he added, “You look lonely. Want to make out?”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head. He shrugged and grinned, his body language saying, Hey, it was worth a try. Then he hurried off, shouting to some other guys who appeared to be playing basketball with a rolled-up sock and a large, fancy-looking Chinese vase.

  Alone again among the many, I decided to try to find my way to the kitchen and help myself to a soda. It was already warm and stuffy in the house, and I had a feeling it could be a long night.

  It wasn’t easy crossing the dance floor, where a bunch of people were still dancing like spastic kangaroos. But then a different song came on, and I took advantage of the momentary confusion to dive across the middle of the room and through an arched doorway on the far end.

  I found myself in what appeared to be the dining room. It was marginally less crowded in there; a few people were sitting at the mahogany table playing poker, while others were examining the books in a glass-fronted case on the far wall. Among the latter group I spotted a couple of familiar faces.

  One was Rachel, Riley’s cool female friend from last night. Another was Marcus.

  I gulped. If they were here, that could only mean one thing. Riley had to be here too.

  So now what?

  Eleven

  As I was standing there frozen with indecisiveness, Rachel turned and spotted me. She looked surprised, then waved. Giving Marcus a smack on the arm to alert him, she made her way toward me around the table.

  “Hey,” I greeted the pair when they reached me.

  “Hi, Lauren,” Rachel said. “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”

  I smiled ruefully. “I didn’t either until my friend Britt talked me into coming.” Hearing Britt’s distinctive laugh during a brief break in the music, I glanced over my shoulder. I could see her through the archway. She was still back in the other room, tilting her head back to smile up at Tommo. “There she is. Over there with the tall blond guy.”

  “You mean Tommo?” Marcus said. “How’d she get mixed up with that clown?”

  “She met him on the field trip to the Smithsonian the other day.”

  “Oh, you mean you were on that trip too?” Rachel made a face. “Wasn’t it a snooze?”

  “Um, totally.” I couldn’t help being surprised for a moment. Didn’t she already know I’d been on that field trip? After all, that was where Riley and I had met… .

  But she wouldn’t have any way of knowing that, I reminded myself. Not unless they talked about me after I left last night, maybe. Because all he told his friends while I was there was that I was his new music buddy—he didn’t say anything about me being Planetarium Girl. And as I’ve already figured out, he doesn’t seem to want to believe that himself, so why would he mention it? His friends probably assumed we just met at the concert.

  “Have you seen Riley yet?” Rachel asked.

  That yanked me immediately out of my own thoughts. “Um, no?” I said, my heart beating a little faster. “Is he here?”

  �
��Marcus!” a girl shrieked, descending upon us like a banshee. She was grooving to the music, waving both arms over her head and shimmying her hips. “Come on, you gotta dance with me, baby!”

  “How can I say no to a beautiful woman?” Marcus replied, immediately starting to wriggle his own hips as he allowed the girl to pull him off toward the other room.

  As they disappeared into the mob on the dance floor, Rachel laughed and shook her head. “In case you haven’t noticed, Marcus is the life of the party,” she said.

  “I noticed.” I returned her smile, but I wasn’t really thinking about Marcus. “Um, did you say Riley’s here?”

  “Yeah, somewhere.” She cast a look around, then shrugged. “Haven’t seen him in a while, actually. He’s probably hiding out from the hordes of groupies that’ve been panting after him since he posted his little love quest on Facebook.”

  It only took one look at her wildly rolling eyes to guess what she thought of the fake Planetarium Girls. “That quest of his,” I said hesitantly. “You know—for The One, or Planetarium Girl, or whatever …”

  “‘Whatever’ being the operative word.” Her eyes were still rolling. “I can’t believe he’s serious about the whole thing. Especially after seeing some of the girls who’ve replied.”

  For a second I felt vaguely insulted. But I fought back the feeling. After all, she had no idea I was one of those girls. She was talking about the others: girls like the ones at the club, or like Chelsea. And thinking about that, I could see her point. Chelsea didn’t exactly seem like Riley’s type to me. At least I hoped she wasn’t.

  “So he’s pretty serious about tracking down that girl, huh?” I did my best to keep my voice casual, light. Just party chit-chat. La di da.

  Rachel leaned back against the dining table and sighed. “Unfortunately, it seems like it. Riley’s pretty chill most of the time, but when he gets the idea in his head that he really wants to do something or whatever—look out. He won’t let up until he gets what he wants, you know?”

  “I guess this Planetarium Girl really made an impression on him?”

  “I guess. Or it might just be that Riley’s a hopeless romantic. And that he’s refusing to accept that none of these so-called Planetarium Girls are anywhere near good enough for him, at least in the not-so-humble opinions of me and all the rest of his friends.” Rachel laughed. “Don’t tell him I said that, though.”

  She was obviously kidding, but I crossed my heart anyway, once more reminding myself that she wasn’t talking about me. Not really. “So you don’t think he’ll give up on Planetarium Girl anytime soon?” I asked.

  “Doubtful. I totally heart the boy, but like I said, he can be way stubborn. Marcus and Haley said he hardly talked about anything else but that girl in study hall yesterday.”

  Just then someone called Rachel’s name. I glanced over and saw a couple of people pushing their way toward us. She smiled and waved to them.

  “I’ll catch you later,” I told her. “I’m going to get a drink.”

  “See you around,” she replied, then hurried forward to meet her friends.

  I slipped away into the kitchen. It was empty except for a couple of wildly giggling girls who appeared to be attempting to stuff a banana, some grapes, half a bottle of chocolate syrup, and who knew what else into the blender. Ignoring them, I rummaged around in the fridge until I found a Coke.

  Then I wandered back out into the main room, my head spinning with the knowledge that Riley was somewhere at this party. What now? Should I look for him and say hi? Should I try to avoid him so he didn’t think I was anything like those girls Rachel was talking about? Or should I maybe just leave and avoid the whole question?

  I realized the last option wasn’t really an option at all. For one thing I couldn’t abandon Britt, especially since Riley’s friends had all but confirmed that Tommo was a nut. Besides, I couldn’t abandon her even if I’d wanted to. She was my ride. And at the moment she was nowhere in sight.

  Somehow, though, I couldn’t make myself feel disappointed. And if I was being honest, I knew why. Despite my resolution mere hours ago to give up on him, I wanted to see Riley again.

  Maybe he’s getting sick of all these shallow wannabes, I told myself as I wandered through one crowded room and then another. Maybe tonight is when the magic finally happens again. When he realizes it’s been me all along… .

  I kept wandering. No sign of Riley. Or Britt. Or Rachel, Marcus, or anyone else I even vaguely recognized. I kept an of course I’m having fun smile pasted on my face even though I was starting to feel kind of stupid and uncertain again.

  But by now I couldn’t ignore the fact that I was dying to see Riley. And why not? He didn’t seem to think I was a crazy stalker so far. Hadn’t he messaged me on Facebook just that morning? That was a good sign, right?

  I made my way through the room with the stereo and the dance floor, where I caught a glimpse of Riley’s friend Jake slow-dancing with some girl. Britt and Tommo definitely weren’t there anymore, and I couldn’t see Marcus and his dancing friend, either.

  Turning off to the side, I headed through a doorway and down a narrow hallway leading to more rooms at the back of the house. One of them was some sort of den-library combo, where a group of guys were watching a sports news show on a plasma TV. Another group of mostly guys was on the back screened porch. A few of them shot glances my way when I poked my head in there, and one beefy football type looked like he was thinking about coming over. I ducked back out and kept moving, not in the mood for flirting with random guys. Not that I was ever really in the mood for that… .

  As I headed back down another hallway—the house was huge—I hit a staircase. There were voices coming from upstairs, but I kept moving past the stairs, not sure I wanted to go up there. Where the heck was Riley? I hadn’t seen Rachel or Marcus in a while either. What if they’d all decided to leave?

  “Hey, chica,” a short, muscular guy said as I passed him just as he was coming out of a powder room. “What’s your name?”

  “Busy,” I said, not stopping. Having so many guys checking me out or hitting on me did make me feel good about my outfit. Still, what was the point in looking good if the guy I really wanted to impress never even saw me?

  As I rounded a corner I noticed a door standing slightly ajar. Glancing through it, I saw steps leading downward. The basement. Different music was drifting up from down there.

  I took a step down and then hesitated, hearing mostly female voices down there. Then a guy laughed. My heart jumped into my throat. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was Riley.

  Taking a few deep breaths, I headed down the steps and found myself in a spacious basement rec room. It had a pool table, several huge leather sofas, a big-screen TV and PlayStation console, some ancient-looking Persian rugs covering the tile floor, and lots of framed advertising posters on the paneled walls. There was a gleaming mahogany bar along one wall, and next to that was an old-school jukebox.

  There were probably fifteen people down there, but my eyes went immediately to one of them. Riley was standing beside the jukebox, leaning one elbow casually on its rounded top.

  He didn’t see me at first. For a moment all I could do was look at him as the usual feelings washed through me—soaring heart, pinging, and all.

  Then the song that was playing ended. “Any requests?” Riley asked, leaning over the controls.

  There was a chorus of giggles. “You pick, Riley!” a girl’s voice exclaimed.

  “Yeah,” another girl said. “You have the best taste!”

  “Is there any Maybe It’s a Beast on there?” yet another piped in. “Because I love them even more than you do, Riley!”

  I looked around. The pinging faded, and my heart sank. There were three guys playing pool over at the table, and another one rummaging around behind the bar. Aside from them—and Riley, of course—everyone else in the basement was female.

  Two of the girls were busy playing Tomb Raider on the
big screen, but the rest were buzzing around Riley like flies around a juicy piece of meat. Chelsea wasn’t among them, though I did recognize one of the girls I’d seen at the club the night before. She looked sexy and ready for action in a skintight V-neck top and a microscopic miniskirt. Most of the others were similarly attired in their best skankwear.

  I almost turned right around and left. How was I supposed to compete with all that? And more to the point, did I even want to? Rachel’s words danced through my head: He won’t let up until he gets what he wants. Did he really want one of these girls? Was he determined that one of them was his One True Love?

  “Lauren! Hey, what’s up?”

  He had spotted me. I headed toward him, ignoring the stares of the other girls as they immediately zeroed in on me, clearly sizing me up.

  “Hey,” I greeted him, trying not to feel self-conscious.

  “I didn’t know you were going to be here.” His smile made me forget everything else for a second. “What are you doing over here in Silver Grove again?”

  “My friend Britt got invited to this party.” I tried to sound casual and even a little bored. Okay, I hate playing games. But I hate seeming desperate even more.

  “Cool.” Riley waved a hand at the jukebox. “Any requests?”

  I was becoming more and more aware of the stares—make that glares—from the other girls. “Um, I don’t know. Let’s see what we’ve got.”

  Turning my back on the glares, I leaned over the glass front of the jukebox. Riley leaned beside me.

  “Let me guess. More Facebook friends?” I asked him quietly, tipping my head subtly back toward our observers.

  His grimace showed clearly in the polished glass front of the jukebox. “Mostly,” he whispered back. “The two over on the couch playing video games are friends of mine. They’re sticking around to help rescue me in case I need to escape.” He shot a quick look over his shoulder. “You know, Marcus would be in heaven with this many girls hanging around. But I have to admit it feels a little weird to me. I’m not exactly Mr. Casanova, you know?”

 

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