by Ana Huang
Venice laughed. "You're ridiculous." She eased off the brake as the line inched forward a little. "You've been in such a cranky mood lately I think tonight's the night."
A chill ran down my spine. "Uh…the night for what?" I asked slowly, knowing what she was going to say but dreading it nonetheless.
"The night to find you a guy!" she exclaimed, in a duh voice. "You are 17 years old and you've never even had a real boyfriend, which is…well, it's not normal, especially since you're gorgeous, girlie."
I blushed, muttering something about how I wasn't, really. Compliments on my looks always make me feel awkward. I don't even think of myself as pretty. I mean, yeah, I know I'm not ugly or anything, but when I look in the mirror I just see a regular teenage girl.
Venice groaned. "You kill me. Do you even realize how all the guys stop to stare at you whenever you walk into a room?"
"They don't."
"They do!" She gazed at me calculatingly. "But don't try to change the subject. There'll be plenty of hot guys here tonight and even if you won't date any of them you can still hook up, can't you?"
"You're the one who brought it up in the first place," I huffed. "And I'm not really a hook up type of person, V."
She ignored me, distracted by a parking space on the edge of the road. Granted, it didn't look large enough to even fit one of those tiny cars they drove over there in France, but it was a space nonetheless. Luckily, Venice's car was pretty tiny too, and by some miracle (or lack thereof, in my opinion), she managed to ease into the spot.
"Yes!" Venice beamed triumphantly. "Bow down to my driving skills, ye mere mortals."
"I'm bowing, I'm bowing." I stared nervously at the giant black Hummer in front of us. "Ok, let's go."
"Now you want to go in faster."
"I'm just getting claustrophobic." I stepped out of the car and was instantly bombarded with the smell of alcohol.
I blinked, staring at the chaotic scene in front of me. Take all the noise and people and alcohol from every party I've ever been to, multiply it by ten, and that's what it looked like right now. It's like a teenage movie party scene on steroids. All the lights were on in Stan's huge house, and I could see the shadows of drunk, horny teenagers in every one of them. In fact, there were so many people they spilled onto the vast lawn.
As I watched, a barely-clad girl in teeny-tiny shorts and an even teenier top raced past me, shrieking with laughter, with a shirtless guy in hot pursuit. A bunch of people were doing body shots on the hood of a car, of all places, while couples made out furiously everywhere.
I gulped. If this was what the party's like outside, I can't even begin to imagine what's happening inside. Or rather, I didn't even want to imagine what's happening in there. I was in way over my head.
Venice, apparently, didn't think so.
"Oh, thank god we managed to beat the worst of the crowds," she breathed, grabbing my hand and dragging me toward the house.
"We did?" I asked skeptically. It sure didn't look like it, but hey, what did I know? I was a Stan Hoffman party virgin.
We managed to make our way through the crush in the living room and outside again to the pool area, which was slightly less congested. Probably because someone had already thrown up in the pool.
I stood in the corner for a moment, surveying the scene. Not a single person looked sober, or even semi-sober. I discreetly checked my watch. It was barely eleven. Great. That meant we wouldn't be leaving for a good two hours, if I was lucky. I don't usually drink that much, but I had a feeling there's no way I could get through this night completely sober without tearing my hair out.
"Hey, V, why don't we go get some drinks?" I suggested.
"That's the spirit!" She beamed. Then, gazing over my shoulder, a mischievous smile crept over her face. "Actually, why don't I go get the drinks? It'll be easier that way. You just stay right here."
With that, she hightailed it back inside.
I stared after her, puzzled. "Don't get drunk and pregnant!" I yelled, rather belatedly.
"A valid concern at Stan's parties," an amused voice noted from behind me.
Whipping around, I found myself facing a very cute, sandy-haired guy I didn't recognize. Ah. No wonder Venice was so quick to leave.
I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. God, I must have sounded like someone's mom just now. "Oh…hi," I said awkwardly.
"Hi." His smile widened. "I'm James."
"Maya."
"I know."
When I shot him a quizzical look, he shrugged. "I asked a couple of my friends if they knew you," he explained.
"Who are your friends?" I asked curiously.
He gestured to a group of guys working on a keg on the other side of the pool. I have absolutely no freaking idea who any of them were.
"Apparently, everyone knows who you are," James explained.
My face fell. "They do?" I asked nervously. Either James was lying or I've been completely delusional for the past year.
Sadly, I suspected it might be the latter.
James laughed. "Cheer up, it's not the end of the world. I've never seen anyone look so sad about other people knowing her."
Ha! He knew nothing, I tell you, nothing. Besides, "sad" is not exactly the word I would use to describe what I'm feeling right now, which is…well, I'm not even really sure.
Suddenly, I just realized something. "Do you go to Valesca?" I asked.
"Nope, and damn proud of it. No offense," he added quickly.
"Believe me, none taken," I said dryly. "So where do you go?"
"La Terra," he answered, naming a high school in the next town. "My family used to live here but they moved when I was little, which is just as well. Valesca isn't really my type of scene."
"A guy after my own heart," I joked.
He smiled. "I certainly hope so."
While I blushed and racked my suddenly-frozen brain for a witty response, a commotion inside the house thankfully interrupted me, and both James and I turned to see what all the fuss was about.
I was surprised to see the procession of Scions, plus Adriana, making their way through the crowd. The former rarely ever attended open parties like this one and preferred to go clubbing at the latest New York hotspots. At least, that was what I heard.
I was even more surprised to see Roman and Carlo were conspicuously absent.
"Ah, the famous Scions," James commented.
"You know who they are?" I asked as I stepped to the side, partially shielding myself with a giant potted plant.
"I think everyone in the tri-state area knows who they are," he remarked wryly. A brief shadow passed over his face, but it disappeared so quickly I wondered if it had ever been there in the first place.
"Wonderful." My week just keeps getting better and better.
At that moment, Venice ran up, beer sloshing over the sides of the two red plastic cups she held in her hands. She didn't seem to notice. "Maya! Guess who's here?" she cried, her desire to gossip apparently outweighing her desire to give me and a total stranger (to her) some alone time.
"Big Foot?"
She shot me a you're-so-weird-sometimes look. "No. The Scions! Well, half of them anyway." She handed me one cup and gave
James the other one. "I'm Venice, by the way," she said, beaming.
"Hey, I'm James," he said easily. "Why don't you have this drink?" He held out his cup.
"Oh, no thanks. I'm not really a beer person," she explained. She gave me a sly smile. "I see you've met Maya."
He shot me an amused look. "Yes, I have."
"Don't you just love her? She's my best friend. She's amazing! She's so smart, and she's really pretty too, don't you think?"
Venice may not be a beer girl, but she had definitely imbibed some alcohol before she came back. "Venice! What are you doing?" I hissed under my breath, mortified.
"Yeah, she's beautiful," James replied, giving me another smile.
I coughed nervously, unsure what to say. "Haha…um, we
ll…actually, I just remembered I have to go somewhere…well, it was nice meeting you!"
Before he could say another word, I'd already grabbed Venice and hightailed it inside the house, losing myself in the fortunately large crowd. Unfortunately, I was in such a hurry I didn't notice I had also hightailed into someone. The unexpected force caused my cup to tilt over, and I watched in slow-motion horror as the sticky brown liquid splashed all over a very expensive-looking shirt.
I slowly lifted my eyes from the stain, up, up, and straight into the face of none other than Parker Remington.
Oh shit.
* * *
"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!"
Adriana watched impassively as a slightly heavyweight guy in a too-small Abercrombie polo finished off the last of the giant keg in the Hoffmans' backyard, cheered on by his equally drunk and rowdy friends.
"You know, that's actually pretty impressive," Zack remarked, finishing off his own drink, which a simpering sycophant had brought over just a few minutes earlier.
"Yeah, if this were the Frat Olympics 2010," Adriana said, rolling her eyes. On any other night, this party would be pretty fun—great music, free-flowing liquor, and tons of people, which meant tons of cute guys. The only problem was, she wasn't here to find a guy for herself, she was here to find a girl for Roman.
"Where did Parker disappear off to?" she wondered aloud, scanning the yard. They had been mobbed by a frightening pack of drunk, horny girls the moment they arrived, and Parker had somehow gotten 'lost' in the midst.
Zack shrugged. "He's probably—"
"Ohmygod! Someone just spilled beer all over Parker Remington!" someone screamed. Everyone froze for one second, before they abandoned what they were doing to cram themselves into the living room, eager to witness the drama that was about to go down, and curious as to who was unlucky enough to offend a Scion so early in the year.
"Well, there's your answer," Zack said, chuckling. "This, I gotta see."
Despite the crowds, he and Adriana had no trouble making it to the edge of the circle, where Parker and a girl who had her back to them stood. The renowned playboy did, indeed, have a huge dark stain on his shirt, and surprisingly, he didn't look particularly upset.
When the girl turned, Adriana immediately saw why. It was the girl she'd met in the bathroom a few days ago, Maya. She didn't know why she remembered her so clearly, but there was something about her that stuck out from Valesca's preening socialites-in-training. Despite Maya's delicate appearance, she seemed to emanate a vibe that indicated she wasn't one to let herself be pushed around, which Adriana, who herself was no shy wallflower, appreciated.
Besides, it was clear Parker wouldn't be so quick to impose any sort of social pariah-dom on the poor girl--she was gorgeous. Even Zack, who was normally pretty laid-back when it came to expressing his opinions about the opposite sex, let out a low whistle.
Parker, not looking terribly upset, was saying something, but it was hard to hear, since everyone had formed the circle at a respectable distance from the two.
Adriana decided to take matters into her own hands, but before she could, she was surprised to see her brother step forward. "There's nothing to see here," he said firmly. And with those five words, the crowd reluctantly dispersed, though more than few cast surreptitious looks in their direction.
Zack was about to make his way over to Parker and Maya when Adriana laid a hand on his arm. "Wait," she said, tilting her head towards a tiny redhead who was barreling towards the duo at an alarming speed.
"Maya!" the girl cried, her gray eyes the size of saucers as they darted between her friend and the huge stain on Parker's shirt.
"Wh-what happened? Are you okay? You're—you're not going to be expelled, are you?"
"Not if I have anything to say about it."
Adriana watched, intrigued, as a good-looking, sandy-haired guy stepped up behind Venice, staring directly at Parker.
Then, as if the scene couldn't get more dramatic, the front door opened and who should come in but Roman and Carlo?
Well, Adriana thought. This party is finally starting to get interesting.
* * *
"Um…uh…" I was speechless as I just stood there, taking in the damage I'd done to a shirt that probably cost more than an average person's monthly rent. A shirt that belonged to Parker Remington, no less. I was painfully aware that the rest of the party had stopped and everyone was pointing and whispering, but I couldn't focus on anything except for the fact my life was pretty much over.
"I'm sorry," I finally managed, desperately searching for a place to set down the offending and now empty cup. Unfortunately, the nearest table was about twenty feet away. "I'm really, really sorry. I didn't mean to spill it—it's just—I'm a bit—well, I was in a bit of a hurry so I just rushed in here and I didn't see you and there's so many people that it just accidentally spilled—"
I knew I was rambling incoherently and embarrassing myself even more than I already had, but I couldn't help it. In my mind, I could see my chances of getting into Stanford, or any other good school, disappear in a puff of smoke.
The whole time, Parker just watched me with an inscrutable expression on his face. When I finally fell into silence, awaiting his next words with a Texas-sized pit of dread in my stomach, I somehow felt even more humiliated that I was basically groveling in front of someone for something as minor as spilling beer over him.
I mean, yeah, if it had been anyone else, I still would have apologized and tried to help him clean up, but the situation was only exacerbated by the fact Parker's a Scion. This time, I felt my cheeks heat up with shame and anger at myself for being too much of a coward to stand up to the Scions' dictatorial rule.
"Well, this wasn't part of my plans for tonight," Parker commented, lifting his sticky shirt away from his defined torso, which was clearly outlined through the soaked material.
I braced myself, wondering how to tell my mom my chances of getting into a top ten school were non-existent now.
"But it certainly isn't the end of the world."
Oh god. I was going to end up working at McDonald's for the rest of my life, subsisting on welfare—wait, what? "What?" I blurted.
I heard someone say something in the background, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the crowd that had been watching us miraculously break up, but I was so overwhelmed by the hope that was coursing through my veins I couldn't quite focus on anything else.
Parker laughed, flashing me his signature charming smile and the accompanying dimples. His green eyes sparkled mischievously.
"It's just beer," he explained. "I won't die."
"But I ruined your shirt," I protested. I couldn't believe I was actually encouraging him to be mad, but this didn't feel right. I mean, last year, I'd seen someone get kicked out of school for stepping on the back of Roman’s shoe. Besides, I was still convinced there was a catch here somewhere.
Parker shrugged. "It's just a shirt, I have plenty."
"So…you're not mad?" I asked cautiously.
"Of course not. How can I be mad at such a beautiful girl?"
Coming from anyone else, the line would be corny as hell, but there was something about Parker that made everything he said sound smooth and charming.
"Maya! Wh-what happened? Are you okay? You're—you're not expelled, are you?"
I turned to see Venice rushing toward me, wide-eyed and panicked.
I was about to tell her that yes, everything was fine, but before I could get a word out of my mouth, James suddenly materialized. He looked decidedly less laid-back than before, and in fact, his mouth was set in a grim line as he stared Parker down.
"Not if I have anything to do about it," he said quietly.
"Really? And what are you going to do about it?"
The blood ran cold in my veins. I would recognize that voice anywhere.
Venice gently tugged on my arm, and I robotically took a step back so that James was facing Parker and Roman by himself. I saw Car
lo move over to stand next to Zack and Adriana. I don't remember seeing them arrive on the scene, but I shouldn't be surprised. They always moved in a pack.
"I'm not going to stand here and let you push Maya around just because she accidentally spilled beer on you," James declared, even though he was looking straight at Roman now.
Roman's eyes narrowed and his gaze moved slowly, methodically from Parker's shirt, to me and Venice, and back to James. "I don't think you're aware who you're talking to," Roman said. His tone of voice had changed. It was casual, almost cavalier, which frightened me more than if he'd been screaming and raging.