WE MAKE FIFTY WRONG turns getting to this house in the middle of nowhere. As we walk up the driveway the noise spills out. It’s a huge house—at least three stories—with light shining from every window.
“So this is a real party, huh?” Mara asks, holding on to my arm as we walk up the front steps in our skirts and skimpy shirts.
“We’ll find out.”
We push through the open door and the smell of alcohol envelops us. We stand in what was formerly a living room but now looks to be a foundation for a landfill. The wood floors are covered in litter—potato chips, popcorn, pizza, glass bottles, plastic cups. Music, bodies, yelling, pushing. It’s like the animals escaped from the zoo.
Mara and I look at each other, neither of us really knowing what we’re supposed to do next. We had only been to the kind of parties at skating rinks and Chuck E. Cheese’s.
“Text Troy, Edy. Let them know we’re here,” Mara tells me.
I take my phone out, but some guy shoves another guy into me, nearly knocking me over, and I drop my phone. “Watch it!” Mara yells after the guy, but I can barely even hear her over the blaring music.
“You all right?” Someone shouts from behind me, putting his hands on my shoulders. I turn around quickly, and this guy grabs each of my hands, holds my arms out to my sides, and looks me over. “You look good to me,” this guy with a smooth voice and a dangerous smile says as he picks my phone up off the floor and hands it to me.
I turn to Mara, who’s ogling this mystery guy. Obviously attractive, obviously older than us. He smiles as I turn back to him. A smile that seems to mean a lot. Mara comes closer and yells, “We’re looking for Alex and Troy?”
This guy looks back and forth between Mara and me, confused. “Why would you be looking for them?” he says with a laugh, steering us farther into the house with one hand on my back and the other on Mara’s shoulder.
“They invited us,” Mara explains as we’re herded through the living room and into a kitchen that’s been turned into one huge bar, with a keg and an endless supply of bottled beer.
“They invited you?” he asks, coming to a halt, looking at us alternately, repeating himself with exactly the same intonation as the first time. “Wait. They invited you?”
“Yes,” Mara tells him innocently. And he just starts laughing.
“All right,” he says, shaking his head. “Gotta give ’em props for that!”
“Hey,” he calls to another guy standing in the kitchen filling a plastic cup from the keg. “Hey, man, why don’t you get some drinks for these two lovely ladies—friends of Troy and his tool bag, Alex!” And they both start laughing.
Mara looks at me like she doesn’t get it. Clearly our Alex and Troy are not of the top tier here. Keg Guy hands both Mara and me a plastic cup full of beer, still laughing.
“They’re not our friends,” I correct, setting my cup down on the counter. “We don’t even know them,” I protest, but they’re not listening.
I look at Keg Guy—he’s older too. I look all around us. Everyone’s older. This is not a high school party. Clearly, this is a college party.
“The only reason they’re even here is because Troy’s my little twerp brother. You’ll find them out by the pool—they’ll be the heads attached to the bong,” he says with a laugh, pointing in the direction of the back door, dismissing us like we’re just these silly little girls. “Go on, go get baked so you have something to talk about in home ec on Monday!”
Mara starts walking away, unfazed. I follow her through the sliding screen door, and sure enough, there they are in a cloud of smoke with a small crowd encircling them. Everyone laughing and talking slowly. They look up and Alex yells, “Hey, you made it! Awesome. Come join us.” He slides over on the bench they’re sitting on, making room for us. Now they suddenly don’t seem so cool. I want to just turn around and leave.
“I forgot my drink,” I tell Mara, but she’s already left my side to go sit down with them, smiling and girly, already over our humiliation in the kitchen. I turn back to get my beer, the only thing that’s going to make this bearable. That guy’s still leaning against the counter next to his friend, his eyes following my every move as I walk back into the room. “Excuse me,” I say, sharply. “My drink. You’re standing in front of it.” I have to step in close, reaching around him. But he snatches the cup and holds it up high over my head.
“First, tell me which one you’re for? I gotta know,” he says, waving the cup in the air.
I look up at the smirk on his face. The way he looks at me like I’m some kid he can tease. Which is the total opposite of the way he was looking at me in the doorway five minutes earlier, like he liked what he saw, before he knew I was connected to Troy. I cross my arms. “I’m not for anyone. And I’m not jumping for that, so you can just stop embarrassing yourself,” I tell him, looking around like I’m embarrassed for him. I sound tougher than I’ve ever sounded in my life. In fact, I feel tougher than I’ve ever felt in my life—invincible.
“We got a live one!” Keg Guy whistles.
“I didn’t know,” he says, his face changing from amused to intrigued. “Sorry.” He finally hands me the cup. His eyes narrowing on me, he asks, “You go to school with my brother?”
“No. We just met. He told us about this party. Thought we’d check it out. Not impressed,” I add, looking around like I’m completely uninterested in anything that’s going on here.
“How old are you—the truth?” He grins.
“Jailbait!” Keg Guy coughs under his breath, smacking him on the shoulder before he runs off, leaving us alone in the kitchen.
“The truth,” he repeats.
The truth. I take a big sip from the cup. His words echo in my head. Truth. What is that, anyway? No such thing.
“What’s your problem?” I ask, sure to sound positively bored out of my skull. “I’m eighteen.” Except that is a total lie. Not the truth at all. “Calm down.”
“All right, all right,” he says. “Just bustin’ your chops.” And then he smiles his smile from the doorway. “So, not impressed, huh?” he asks.
“Not particularly.” I shrug.
“Don’t you wanna join your friend out there?” he gestures beyond the sliding door to the patio, where Mara sits between Alex and Troy, her head thrown back in laughter.
“That’s not really my thing,” I tell him.
“Oh, really? Well, what is your thing?” he asks, looping his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
I feel my heart race, and the corners of my mouth turn upward, somehow, as I look at him. “I don’t know,” I answer. And that is the truth.
“Well, how ’bout a tour of the house?” he asks. “What kind of host would I be?”
“Okay,” I agree. I look at Mara once more before I follow him out of the kitchen. She’s having a great time. She’s fine. He leads me up the staircase to the second floor.
“Maybe we can find something a little more exciting for you?” he says, looking over his shoulder at me.
“Maybe,” I reply, not sure who is doing my talking right now. He grabs my hand when we reach the landing, and takes me down to the end of the hall, past people in rooms smoking and drinking, laughing and kissing. Then we go up another flight of stairs. My legs feel like they’re jelly by the time we reach the top. There’s a short hall with only two doors on either side, both closed. There’s no one on this floor.
“It’s quiet up here,” I say, feeling my confidence slowly beginning to drain as I realize just how far away I am from everyone, just how far this has already gone.
“Exactly. This is only for special guests,” he says, taking a key ring out of his pocket as he approaches the door.
“Special guests, huh?” I repeat, standing close behind him.
He turns around and puts his hands on my waist, and suddenly I’m up against the door, and he’s kissing me fast and moving his hands all over me. I feel this rush of energy flow from my toes up to the top of my head and out through my fingers, the confidence flooding back through me. And now I kiss him the same way he kisses me. Move my hands over him the way he does to me. Careless, hard, dangerous. He fumbles to get the door unlocked. We tumble inside the darkened room. I barely have a chance to even look around to see where we are, because it’s all happening so fast. There’s a bed, a dresser, a mirror. That’s all I can make out before he slams the door behind us and locks it, turning back to me before I’m even able to take a breath.
We’re in the bed. The weight of his whole body on top of me. Cold metal belt buckle pressing against my stomach. Hands pushing my skirt up. Underwear peeling down my legs. Belt buckle comes undone, scraping against my skin. The sound of a zipper. Heavy breathing.
It’s over before I even fully believe it’s happening. Before I’ve even fully decided I’m going to do it. And I lie here staring up at the ceiling fan, this guy panting next to me. I don’t even know his name. He doesn’t know mine. We stay like this for what feels like a long time, but I can’t be sure how much time actually passes.
He finally lets out a sigh, and sits up slowly. Smoothing out his shirt and buttoning his pants, he looks over at me like he’s forgotten I’m here. “Thanks,” he says quietly. “This was fun.”
“Yeah,” I whisper, slipping my underwear back on.
We don’t speak as we make our way back downstairs to rejoin the party. And I realize I feel a little strange, like, out of my body in a way I’ve never been before. In a way that feels so much better than drinking too much, or even that night at the playground when we got high. Better than any feeling I’ve ever had. Empty and full, all at the same time.
I somehow find my way to Mara, still sitting outside, laughing just like she was when I left. It’s like I was never gone, like time just stood still. They call me over, my name echoing through the thick air. I shake my head and walk to the edge of the crystal blue pool instead. Sitting down slowly, I take my shoes off and dip my feet into the cool water. I swirl my legs in figure eights over and over again as I look up at the stars, the warm breeze floating through me. I don’t know who I am right now. But I know who I’m not. And I like that.
