“I’ve never done anything with anyone,” I said, trying to make her understand. “And you’d been asking me about dating, and … and I panicked. I’m sorry.”
Lydia’s entire body relaxed. She exhaled and wiped a hand down her face. “Shit,” she said, laughing with relief. “I thought you were going to say something bad.”
I blinked at her, surprised. I thought my lack of experience was something bad.
“I thought you were going to be like, ‘I don’t like you like that,’” Lydia went on. “I thought that’s why you pulled away and why you haven’t talked to me since. I worried I was reading you wrong this whole time.”
“No,” I said, eager to make myself clear. “No, you were reading me right. I’m just—I don’t know. Scared.”
Lydia looked steadily at me. “Does it scare you to know that I like you?”
“Um, yeah,” I said, blushing. “But it also makes me really happy.”
“And you like me, too?”
My whole face was on fire, but I breathed past it and kept looking at her. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
She smiled at me in a calm, anchoring way, like she understood exactly where I was coming from. “I’m scared, too, Codi. It’s like I told you that day in the tree house … sometimes I feel scared of everything. But I like being around you. I like knowing you. I would love to spend the rest of the summer just hanging out with you.”
I let that settle into me. The way we were sitting, the way we were talking, it seemed like we had all the time in the world. Like I could try something new and there would be enough room to breathe in it.
Slowly, carefully, I scooted closer to her on the steps. I laid my hand over her knee, the way she’d done on the swings. “I wanna hang out with you, too. And not just as your friend.”
She stared at my hand for a moment. Then she raised her own hand and laid it over mine, touching my fingers gently.
“You said you’ve never kissed anyone?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Does that bother you?”
“Yes,” I said, laughing self-consciously.
“Okay…” She nodded, searching me again. “Does it bother you that I have?”
“No,” I said, surprised to find it was the truth.
“Okay … so then…” She breathed and settled her eyes on me. “Would it be okay if I was your first kiss? Not tonight, but at some point?”
In the strangest, most wondrous way, as we sat there with our hands intertwined on her knee, I was suddenly calm. Not outwardly—my arms were shaking—but in my heart, in my stomach, in the places where I knew myself best.
“Yeah,” I said breathlessly. “And actually, I would love to kiss you right now.”
Lydia broke into a grin. “Really?”
“Really.”
She sat there, her eyes dancing back and forth between mine, and in a crazy twist I never would have believed of myself, I was the one who leaned forward. There was one infinite split second where I almost froze again, but I pressed my way forward, and then I kissed her, softly and carefully, right there on the front porch steps.
It was poetry. It was the top of a roller coaster. It was electric, sweet-toothed magic.
“Okay?” Lydia asked, checking my expression.
“Better than okay,” I said, looking at her mouth. “That was … that was…” I couldn’t stop nodding. “Um, yes. Wow.”
She laughed and tugged me toward her again, and this time, she kissed me. I watched her eyelashes flutter when she pulled away.
“Yep,” she whispered, with her eyes still closed, “yep, that was definitely a wow.”
18
My parents left early Saturday morning, their car loaded up with suitcases and bottles of wine. Grant and I stood sleepily in the driveway, watching them pack the car, both of us murmuring our agreement when they told us to keep the house clean, to be nice to each other, and to call them if anything went wrong.
“And Codi, don’t forget to pick Grant up tomorrow morning,” my mom said for the fifth time. “Grant, be good at Darin’s house, and keep your phone on for your sister.”
“Yeah,” Grant and I said together.
The moment our parents were gone, Grant and I went back inside to sleep. We didn’t talk again until I was driving him to his friend Darin’s house to spend the night. It was late afternoon by this point, and I was itching to drop him off so I could head home and get things ready for the party.
“Are you friends with Ricky again?” Grant asked as we cruised down suburban roads.
“Oh,” I said, surprised by the sudden question. “Yeah, I am. We made up and everything’s cool now.”
“Cool,” Grant said. “What about Maritza and JaKory?”
“Um…” I breathed out, switching the radio for something to do. “I still haven’t talked to them, but I’m gonna call them tomorrow.”
“Good,” he said matter-of-factly. “You don’t want this drama to get out of control.”
I burst out laughing. My little brother sounded like a friendship consultant, determined to keep me in check. Grant frowned at me, confused by the laughter, but then a smile stole over his face. He changed the radio station back to the previous one and kicked up his feet like his work here was done.
* * *
Saturday night arrived, dark and hot and deceptively humble. I cleared space in the garage refrigerator while waiting for Ricky’s truck to come rumbling up the street, my hair still warm from the curling iron and my cotton dress sticking at my hips. Lydia had already texted that she’d be coming with the rest of our friends, and I was bursting with the need to see her, to touch her, to steal a few secret moments in the heat of the party.
Ricky looked handsome when he got out of his truck. His short-sleeve button-up was fitted against his muscles and he wore an impressive watch I’d never seen before. There was a nervous energy about him, but he grinned and pulled me into a hug.
“Cute dress,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “Who you trying to show off for?”
“Look who’s talking. I could smell your aftershave before you even opened the door.”
He laughed, but there was hesitation in his eyes. “Is it too much?”
“No,” I said, hugging him again. “Tucker will love it.”
We stocked the refrigerator with cases of beer supplied by Leo; our other friends had promised they were bringing more. I closed off the bedrooms upstairs, making a mental note to tell Leo to keep people out of them. We queued up Ricky’s playlist—he said there was no way he was letting me pick the music—and synced up his phone to my parents’ sound system. Then we had nothing to do but wait.
They arrived slowly. Samuel and Terrica got there first, bounding in with another case of beer; Leo and his cousin ambled in after that, scanning the house for the best hookup spots; then some baseball players rolled in, hugging me and clasping hands with Ricky; and before I knew it, the kitchen had swelled with more people than Ricky and I had anticipated. It was a wild juxtaposition: the counter where my brother ate ravioli, now the scene of Samuel and some other guys chugging Bud Light; the table where Maritza and JaKory and I had built our Egyptian pyramids for sixth-grade history class, now the spot where Terrica had corralled some girls into beer pong; the foot of the stairs where my mom pulled her work flats on in the mornings, now the place where Ricky stood waiting for Tucker.
And then suddenly Lydia was there.
I hadn’t seen her come in, but I heard a swell of voices and turned to find everyone greeting Lydia, Natalie, and Cliff. I stood frozen, watching her, the surreal thrill of having her in my house washing over me.
She met my eyes and blinked really fast, and she smiled so big that I thought everyone must have noticed. She hugged me tightly, and over her shoulder, I caught Natalie grinning at us.
Lydia looked like she wanted to say something, but there were people everywhere. Julie Nguyen was baking cheese fries in the oven and Aliza Saylor was already on her second Lime-A
-Rita. I took Lydia’s hand and led her out to the garage, where it was empty and quiet.
“You look beautiful,” she told me, her eyes sweeping over my dress.
I was so giddy I started to laugh, and Lydia laughed, too, and we couldn’t stop looking at each other, holding each other’s sweaty hands in the humid, dimly lit garage.
“Here,” I said, pulling two striped lawn chairs over to the driveway, “sit and have a beer with me.”
“You’re ditching your own party?”
“Small get-togethers are more my thing,” I said, raising my eyebrows.
“I noticed,” she said, “and look how that worked out for me.”
We sat there for a while, side by side with a cold beer each, looking out on the dark summer night. Lydia took my hand and ran her fingers along my skin, and when I looked at her, neither one of us could stop smiling.
We finished our beers and stood up to go back inside, but I took her hand before she could open the door. We looked at each other for a beat, and then I leaned forward and kissed her. It felt as scary and wonderful as it had the night before.
She kissed me back, and it went on longer this time, until suddenly we heard—
“Whoa!”
It was Tucker, frozen in the driveway, the floodlights too bright on his face.
“I’m sorry,” he said, backing away, his hand extended like he was trying to push himself as far back as possible.
I was still holding Lydia’s arm. We looked at each other, and I knew she wasn’t afraid.
“It’s fine, Tucker,” I said. “Do you want a beer?”
He remained frozen as I moved toward him with the beer in my hand. He took it but didn’t open it. There was a long, awkward pause.
“It’s really okay,” Lydia said from behind us. “Here, one second, Codi and I need a refill, too.”
She brought me a new beer. I opened it, and Tucker opened his. The three of us stood in a loose circle, drinking under the floodlights in my driveway.
“I didn’t mean to walk up on you,” Tucker mumbled, not looking at either one of us. “Sorry I’m late for your party.”
I looked at Lydia again, and she had this look in her eyes I’d never seen before—like she trusted I knew how to handle it, and like she believed there was something wonderful in me.
“I’m glad you came,” I told Tucker, tapping my beer can against his. “Everyone will be happy to see you.”
* * *
There are many things I could say about that night. It was the third party I’d been to that summer—or fourth, if you counted Ricky’s—and I understood the flow of the ritual by then. I was at once electrified and at ease to be the one hosting it. I looked around my kitchen at all these other kids my age, laughing and beaming with that late-summer glow, their bare skin catching the light and their summer hair long and shaggy and shining. We told stories, we took turns getting drinks, we squabbled over the music and made fun of Cliff’s dance moves. I talked to new people, but also to people I’d gotten to know over the last two months. And all the while, Lydia kept finding me, sometimes with a look from across the room, sometimes with a hug right at my side.
We eventually migrated down to the basement, where everyone became louder and crazier. Samuel, Terrica, Leo, and Leo’s cousin were playing with my brother’s old miniature air hockey table, except they were using beer bottle caps instead of a puck; Cliff and Natalie were practically humping in the corner, a few feet away from another couple I barely even knew; Magic Dan was shuffling playing cards to impress Aliza Saylor, who had lost her underwear somewhere on the stairs; and the baseball team had started a game of Kings with a few girls who didn’t even go to our school. Lydia and I stayed by each other’s sides, talking with Ricky and Tucker until they announced they were going outside for a cigarette. Ricky gave me a meaningful look, and I nodded, and they slipped out the door without anyone noticing.
Things didn’t die down until after two o’clock. By that point, everyone had left except for my friends, who were spread in a circle on the basement floor, playing another round of Don’t Judge Me, But that was mostly just sex jokes. They were obviously too drunk to drive, so Lydia and I got them blankets and pillows and tumblers of water that they knocked over onto each other’s legs. We tried coaxing Natalie and Terrica to sleep on the couches, but they were busy having “a moment of connection” and insisted they needed to cuddle on the floor.
“What about Ricky and Tucker?” Lydia whispered, after we’d pulled Natalie’s and Terrica’s dead-weight selves onto separate couches. “Are they still outside?”
I hesitated. I knew Lydia wouldn’t say anything if we found Ricky and Tucker making out, but I didn’t want to make that decision for them.
“I’ll check,” I said, squeezing her hand, “and then I’ll show you where you can sleep. You can have my bed.”
Ricky’s and Tucker’s voices were muted when I opened the basement door. I shone my phone to the right and found them sitting beneath the deck, frozen in place.
“It’s just me,” I said, and their bodies relaxed.
“Come chill with us,” Tucker said.
“Can I bring Lydia?”
“Yeah, bring your girlfriend,” Ricky said, smirking.
And that’s how we ended the night, with Lydia, Ricky, Tucker, and me sitting beneath the deck, talking with soft, sleepy voices. The moon was out and the earth was quiet, and I felt more real than I ever had before.
“Feels like time doesn’t exist right now,” Lydia said.
“Feels like there’s more space for everything,” Tucker said.
Ricky shot me an easy, peaceful smile, and I held his eyes in the glow of the moon.
* * *
“I don’t want to kick you out of your bed,” Lydia said as we drank water in the quiet, humming kitchen. “You take it, and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No, it’s yours,” I insisted. “I want you to be comfortable.”
Lydia took a long sip of water. She hesitated, and then she asked, “Is it big enough for both of us? Just for sleeping, I mean. I would love to hold your hand while we sleep, but only if you’re okay with that.”
I looked at her, and she had that same look in her eyes she’d had in the driveway earlier.
“That would be really, really nice,” I said.
We left Ricky and Tucker to figure out their own sleeping arrangements. Lydia took my hand, and together we trudged sleepily up the stairs. Only then did I realize how fuzzy the alcohol had made me. I wasn’t even sure where my phone was, but I was too tired to care.
Lydia stepped slowly into my room, taking it all in. She lingered over my desk, touching my sketchpad and watercolor palette with the tips of her fingers. She ran her hand over the fuzzy maroon blanket at the foot of my bed, her eyes flicking up toward the pillows. She picked up the lone picture on my nightstand and smiled at it for a long moment.
“This must be Maritza and JaKory.”
My stomach clenched. “Yeah.”
“Still trying to figure things out with them? Is that why they weren’t here tonight?”
I felt the sudden need to confess to her. “I didn’t exactly invite them. Ricky said I should, but I didn’t feel ready to.”
She searched my expression. “Well, whenever you feel good about things with them again, I’ll be really excited to meet them.”
She wrapped her arms around me, burying her face in my neck. I hugged her back, but my stomach was still clenched.
“Are you okay, Codi?”
“Yeah,” I said, hugging her tighter.
She rubbed her hands up and down my back. “It was a great party.”
I swallowed against the sudden swelling in my throat. “You think so?”
“People like being around you. You know who you are and what you feel.”
I couldn’t answer. She kissed the side of my head and asked, “Ready for sleep?”
I gave her an old art camp T-shirt and a pair of lounging
shorts. She washed her face at my sink and I sat on the bed, watching her, my heart settled and aching at the same time.
We crawled into bed and lay facing each other. She played with my hair, smoothing it back from my face. I didn’t want to close my eyes, but I couldn’t fight the exhaustion coming over me.
“Will you tell me about the green house?” I mumbled. “The one you first lived in?”
She whispered to me, her words sweet and comforting, and I fell asleep with her hand in my hair.
It was the last nice thing I remembered before I woke up, hours later, to the sound of Maritza and JaKory screaming at me.
19
“What the fuck, Codi?!”
My head was throbbing, my limbs felt like lead, and everything was far too bright. I pulled myself up in bed and was disoriented to find Lydia sitting next to me.
“What the fuck?!” Maritza shouted again, and all my senses caught up to me.
Maritza and JaKory were standing at the foot of my bed, their expressions wild with shock. In the doorway behind them, my brother stood stock-still, his mouth hanging open.
I didn’t know what time it was. I didn’t know how Maritza and JaKory had come to be there. I didn’t even know if Ricky and the others were still in the house.
“What’s going on, Codi?” JaKory asked, his voice shaking. “There are people from school downstairs. They look like they just woke up here. Did you throw a party?”
There was a pressing silence. I could feel Lydia’s eyes on me, but I couldn’t look back.
“Do we know you?” Maritza said loudly. She was staring hard at Lydia, and my stomach plummeted so fast I thought I might be sick.
Lydia took a sharp breath next to me. Her arm moved against mine. “I’m Lydia,” she said in a small voice. “It’s nice to meet you both. Codi’s told me a lot about you.”
Maritza and JaKory looked back to me. Their glares, their looks of betrayal and hurt, burned right through me.
Late to the Party Page 21