The Big Summer

by Jamie B Laurie

  “Learn something new every day, huh?” She winked.

  Hannah waved at a few acquaintances as they started up the driveway, and I was reminded of how few people I actually knew in Seaside City. Hannah and Blake and all of them had lived there for years, gone to school with so many people, made friends. Looking at my own life back home, it was horribly depressing. I couldn’t think of a single person I’d seen in the halls at school that I would wave at if I saw them on the street. Even worse, I didn’t know if there was anybody who would wave at me.

  “What’s up, Hannah?” asked a girl in the small group as she joined up with us.

  “Kitty,” Hannah grinned, giving her a friendly hug, “hey!”

  “Haven’t seen you around these past few weeks,” a tall and lanky boy with greasy hair mumbled through the numerous piercings weighing down his lips.

  “Who’s this?” asked a second boy, more conventionally put together.

  “This is Will O’Connor,” Hannah introduced me (I had a feeling that would be happening frequently throughout the night). “He’s new to town.”

  “I’ve been here for three weeks,” I clarified.

  She shrugged. “New-ish.”

  I was introduced to Kitty (“Hi!), Dean (“Nice to meet you.”), and Sid (“’Sup, brah?”). I felt like the party was my debutant ball as I was presented as a new member of Seaside City high society.

  We continued to the front door as more and more people began migrating in clumps toward the Jackson household. As we stepped up onto a very conventional porch—complete with a homey welcome mat—I reached forward to ring the doorbell.

  Hannah tittered at my side and simply turned the doorknob. It was unlocked. Of course.

  “After you, my friend,” she told me, and she pushed open the door.

  Like a set of heavy velvet curtains parting before the beginning of a performance, the door opened onto a thrilling scene. I felt a nudge at my back and was thrust into a world I’d only found myself in once before—and I had to hope this time would be better.

  The house was dark, and the rhythmic swooping of various colored beams and jets of light punctuated the shadowy blackness. It was also extremely stuffy and hot, probably due to the masses of people that filled every open space. Dance music played, not with aorta-popping intensity, but loud enough that you had to shout to be heard. And I couldn’t help but notice the red plastic cups in everybody’s hands.

  It was intimidating.

  “So?” Hannah demanded loudly in my ear.

  I nodded, not really knowing what exactly I was supposed to say. It was so different. Movies don’t do these kinds of things justice. Like, take fighting for an example. Onscreen fights don’t accurately depict what goes on … because the first time I witnessed a real fight in the school hallway, I threw up afterward because I couldn’t get the sound of fist colliding with jaw out of my mind. It’s the same with parties; there’s a huge difference between following a character weaving through a neatly choreographed group of extras dancing and actually being that character having to fight through a nearly impenetrable wall of dancing adolescents.

  And I didn’t really know what to do with myself. Was I actually expected to dance for the however many hours these things typically lasted? I’d never been to a dance before.

  No. That wasn’t strictly true. I had gone to a dance my middle school had organized in the gym one time. But the ex-friends ditched me, and I was left talking to the math teacher, who seemed to have added a little something extra to his cup of fruit punch.

  “Hey, Will!” Blake shoved his way through the crowd, a big, goofy grin on his face. “Cool of you to come.”

  “He wouldn’t miss it for the whole wide world,” Hannah proclaimed from behind me.

  I turned around to roll my eyes at her and noticed to my shock that she already had a cup in hand. I wondered what kind of dark sorcery she had used to make it appear so quickly.

  Blake was wearing a white wife-beater (what a horrible name for an article of clothing), which showed off his chiseled physique and buff arms. I glanced down at my beige shorts and blue crewneck that showed off my lack of musculature and thin arms.

  Asshole.

  “Great party,” I told him. “Unless I’m horribly misinformed about what a house party is supposed to be like.”

  “Thanks,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder and winking, “I think.”

  Hannah grabbed me by the wrist, and I turned around. She had a napkin in her other hand and was munching on some pretzels and chips (how did she keep doing that?). Also, Emma was by her side. Her black hair was curled, and she wore a sheer top.

  “Will, you look a little overwhelmed,” she commented, not unkindly.

  I laughed. “I guess you could say that.”

  Hannah wrapped her arm around my shoulder proudly. “He’s doing great!”

  “Come on, Will,” Emma told me. She had a mischievous grin that glittered in her eyes. “Let’s go have some fun.”

  “Amen to that,” Hannah replied, chugging her drink and leaving her cup on the shelving unit hanging on the wall.

  My best friend used some more of her witchy magic to conjure up a brand-new cup of beer and shoved it into my hand. The two girls led me into the fray, and I took a sip.

  I coughed and winced, screwing my face up.

  “What do you think?” Emma demanded, nursing her drink. Hannah started laughing giddily.

  “It tastes like … weasel piss,” I admitted

  “I’ll bet it does.” Hannah giggled.

  I took another sip, and the girls cheered.

  “He’s a real man,” Emma said, fanning herself.

  Hannah wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulder. “With hair on his chest and on his—”

  “Okay,” I told them. And to stop her from going any further, I chugged the whole thing. My stomach cramped, but I just shook out my face and whooped. I crushed the cup and tossed it to the floor.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Hannah called, her loud personality shining through her words and drawing the attention of everyone in the immediate area, “meet William O’Connor … Prince of Bad-Assery!”

  The room erupted into a chorus of rowdy cheers, and I was swallowed into the crowd, letting the beer bubbles eat away at my insecurities. I was going to have an awesome night.

  . . .

  My lungs were surely going to implode into a black hole that would end up devouring me. Tears burned hot trails down my cheeks. My sternum was split in two from the amount I was laughing.

  “So funny!” Hannah shrieked.

  I couldn’t even remember what we had found so funny, which somehow made the whole thing even more hilarious.

  “Sto … o … o … op,” Emma choked out, heaving. Blake was tickling her mercilessly, his eyes unfocused and his mouth hanging open as he guffawed. “I’m … peeing!”

  Hannah screamed in laughter, draped sloppily on Michael, who wore a dumb grin that painted his face into that of the most blissful boy on the planet.

  Daniel was chuckling quietly, leaning away from Katie as she nibbled on his earlobe, sucking, slobbering, moaning throatily.

  The party was absolutely incredible. After my second cup of beer and various shots, I was a completely different person. Being the center of attention wasn’t an unwelcome feeling, and I reveled in being wild and free. My insecurities were squashed beneath the pounding dancers’ feet.

  Song after song, partner after partner, I worked my way through the house. Everyone was friends; I even found myself dancing with Katie at one point, although I think I wasn’t quite drunk enough to appreciate her grinding up against me.

  I met up with Hannah from time to time, and Emma too. My new best friend, for the most part, could be found nuzzled up to the youngest Jackson brother. Blake whirled around from girl to girl b
ut always managed to find his way back to Emma.

  And Daniel had shown up at a certain point, looking very good in a pair of skinny jeans and a black V-neck. I even told him so, and he took it in stride. Whatever. The alcohol had control of my mouth.

  At around one o’clock, things started slowing down. Steadily, people began filtering outside. There was more room to move, and I was grateful for it. In between sips of beer, I took deep breaths of the newly freed air.

  When the last of the outside-of-the-circle-of-friends guests left, Hannah found me and gave me a big hug. We jumped up and down together, turning around and around until we both had to stop for fear of barfing all over the already sticky floor.

  “After-party!” she yelled, slurring.

  I put my hand on her lips and rubbed them around and mumbled, “So loud …”

  “Sorry,” she whispered, and we both burst out laughing.

  And so we found ourselves in the Jackson family’s den, which was located in the basement. The door had remained locked for the duration of the party, so the room was unscathed by the tornado of mess that had whirled around the upstairs.

  Their den was cozy and reminded me of something out of the 1960s. Thick shag carpet, a wood-burning stove, and some retro, cushioned chairs. We all demonstrated various forms of bad posture, slouching either on the floor or the seats.

  “What shall the after-party festivities be this time around?” Hannah asked.

  Blake mumbled incomprehensibly. He was lying spread-eagle on the carpet. Emma was resting with her head on his chest, and she had pulled up his shirt to stroke the skin of his stomach.

  “Doesn’t nobody got no ideas?” Hannah begged exasperatedly.

  I chuckled. “That’s a double negative … or a … triple negative?”

  Katie, her tongue sticking halfway into Daniel’s ear, mumbled, “Spin the bottle.”

  “Yes!” I cried excitedly. “It’s on the List.”

  “It’s on the List.” Hannah nodded.

  Emma sighed, dipping her finger into Blake’s belly button, prompting him to giggle in a most unmasculine manner. “It’s on the List.”

  “The List,” Michael added.

  “It’s … on the List!” Blake declared, as if making an incredibly deep and revolutionary discovery.

  Daniel gently shoved Katie off of him and concluded the discussion. “It’s on the List.”

  Good. We were agreed.

  “We’ll need a bottle,” Hannah mused.

  “Volunteer?” someone, I’m not sure who, asked.

  Hannah said, “Blake’s house.”

  Blake argued, “Will’s idea.”

  I shrugged. “Michael’s the youngest brother.”

  Michael groaned. “Emma, you do it.”

  She sighed. “I’m busy counting Blake’s abs.”

  “How many?” I asked curiously.

  She paused, mumbling under her breath, counting slowly. “Uh, six.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll go,” Daniel huffed.

  We all clapped as he mounted the stairs and returned a moment later with a bottle of some kind of liquor.

  “I have returned.”

  “Most astute of you, Daniel,” Hannah chortled.

  “We need something flat to spin it on,” Daniel pointed out.

  Blake let out a strangled grunt of exasperation. Despite Emma’s protestations, Blake sat up (I was surprised that her finger didn’t get trapped in between the muscles of his abdomen). He stood, readjusting his shirt, rummaged through a chest of drawers in the corner of the room, and pulled out the board from a game of Monopoly.

  “That’ll work,” Hannah drawled. Blake tossed the board down on the carpet, and we all moved like drunken turtles to form a lumpy circle (to my left was Emma, then Blake, Daniel, Katie, Michael, and finally Hannah). Daniel placed the bottle carefully on the board and sat back down.

  “Okay,” Blake grumbled, muffling a burp with his hand. “Who’s going first?”

  “Me!” Katie exclaimed, all smiles.

  She crawled forward and gripped the bottle tightly. Chortling, she turned the bottle to point toward Daniel without letting go.

  “Katie,” Hannah cautioned.

  She was tearing up from laughing so hard as she gave the bottle a weak spin and stopped it as it pointed at her boyfriend. She tittered into her elbow.

  “Katie, no. Bad Katie. Stop.”

  Rolling her eyes and putting her hands up, Katie gave the bottle a quick spin, and it slowed to land on Hannah.

  “Oh for God’s sake,” my best friend groaned. She shuffled across the circle, and I was slightly revolted as she pecked Katie Applegate quickly on the lips. Alcohol truly was an awful fiend, driving the most bitter of rivals to lock lips.

  It was Hannah’s turn, and the bottle ended up pointing to Blake. When they kissed, it was an actual kiss. Not the shady half-kiss that she had been forced to endure with Katie. And neither Emma nor Michael looked too pleased.

  Blake spun the bottle extra hard, and it twirled in a dizzying circle. When it started to slow, Emma reached out and grabbed it firmly in her hand.

  There was a poignant moment of silence, and then she pounced on Blake and attached herself to his mouth. They rolled around on the carpet, making passionate noises as they worked on sucking one another’s souls out.

  I wondered what the world had come to, where one could not enjoy a simple game of spin the bottle without someone cheating. Although, Blake didn’t seem to be in the right frame of mind to complain about it.

  “What’s that, Blake?” Michael asked. “I can take the next turn? Sweet!”

  He gave that bottle no mercy, and Hannah didn’t even let it spin once fully before she kicked it off the board. I watched helplessly as another pair fell victim to the throws of teenage hormones. But I was happy for Hannah; they were cute together.

  “Go, Will,” Katie told me. She looked at me with droopy eyelids.

  I shrugged and, with a twist of my wrist, had the bottle spinning around and around. Little bells tinkled and the pixie glitter of fate snowed down on me.

  My eyes stayed fixed on the bottle. It was going to land on Emma, maybe … and I’d laugh because there was no way she was going to stop what she was doing. Perhaps I’d get Hannah … and that would be amusingly awkward.

  But as I watched it hypnotically, it slowed, and the bottle stopped so that the neck was lined up with the “Go to Jail” square on the board. I looked up.

  The bottle was pointing at Daniel.

  And suddenly there was nobody else in the room. My field of vision was a tunnel that had only him at it’s other end. The only sound was my heart as it pummeled my ribcage.

  I started crawling forward, brushing the liquor bottle and game board out of my way, and noticed that Daniel was looking down at the carpet and biting his lip shyly.

  It was happening. I was so ready.

  And then I was kneeling down in front of him. My palms were sweaty, and I heard thunder in my ears.

  Daniel looked up then, and I looked deep into his eyes; his expression was unreadable. But he leaned in a fraction of an inch and gave a tiny jerk of his chin. I moved in then, closing the gap. Our noses bumped awkwardly, but we found our place.

  And when our lips touched, there wasn’t that electric spark that everyone talks about. There was only the smoothness of his lips on mine, and the rightness as they moved together as one, and the way that I felt home and love.

  We were kissing. I was kissing him, and he was kissing me. I brought my hands up to the back of his head, tenderly playing through his hair. His arms found their way to my shoulders, and he was wrapped around my neck.

  His tongue found my lower lip, and mine found his. I dropped a hand to his back and pulled us together, and I hugged around his midsection.
We were lost, and it continued as we were found in each other’s arms. We were lying on the carpet, intertwined. We were us.

  My breathing was hard and fast. Tears bubbled behind my lids. Sounds I had not ever felt the need to make escaped me. So much had been locked up inside, in both of us. And it was finally let out to fly. His leg was between mine, our bodies parallel and coincident, and I felt the swell in his jeans that matched mine.

  This went on for a very long time, until we stopped to catch our breath. Our lips hovered a mere inch apart, and we opened our eyes, panting and staring into each other’s eyes. Daniel came forward for a playful nip of my lips, a wet-sounding kiss, and pulled away again.

  It was then that we finally acknowledged the presence of other people in the room. When we sat up, all eyes were on us: all blinking rapidly.

  Then Katie punched me really hard across the face, and my head snapped around. She cried out angrily and stomped up the stairs.

  Silence.

  Blake pulled Emma in for another make-out session. I looked to Hannah, and she started as if struck by lightning, before grabbing Michael and showing him what Hannah Clark was really made of.

  I felt Daniel’s hand slide into my own, and his fingers ghosted caringly across the throbbing pain where Katie had hit me. I was tugged to my feet, and he took me away with him, our hands joined, and the guest bedroom door closed behind us.

  2. First kiss

  4. Go to a house party

  5. Get drunk!

  6. Play spin-the-bottle

  17. Laugh a lot!

  Chapter 17

  The Rainstorm to My Painting

  I woke up in bed, stretching out and smiling at the feel of silky sheets gliding over my bare skin. A pillow was comfortably mashed around my head, and I snuggled into a comforting embrace.

  Daniel’s arms were tight around me, my back pressed against the soft skin of his strong body. His face was pressed to the back of my head, as if he’d been kissing it when we’d both fallen asleep, and we’d remained perfectly still all night long.

  And I couldn’t recall ever feeling quite so happy, safe, and peaceful. Sighing gently, I took the hand draped over my shoulder into my own and kissed the fingers tenderly.