Page 9 of Only Mostly Devastated

“Oh. Excellent. Shall we go somewhere a bit more private, then?”

I bumped my shoulder against his, grinning. “Wish I could. I’m on duty ’til at least two or three, though.”

He kicked off his shoes and settled in. “Good thing I’ve cleared my calendar for the day.”

I brightened. “Yeah? Don’t you have that buffet tonight?”

“Technically, I do. But I thought about it, and realized I’d rather hang with you. Hope you don’t mind me imposing.”

There they were again. The familiar butterflies. They spent a lot of time fluttering around lately. “Well, it’s a bit of an inconvenience.”

“You’ll forgive me for it eventually.”

Crista noticed him first, and she sprinted out of the water, with Dylan toddling closely behind her. “Will! Will, you missed me before, I did a handstand.”

“A handstand? Now I’m impressed. Do you think you could do it again?”

I may have slipped into the dinner conversation that I was super late for school after they forced me to stop for breakfast. Just to amp up the likelihood I’d get a yes and escape the house tonight. I know, I know, I shouldn’t have been guilting my parents when they had tried to do something nice for me, but I was desperate. It worked like a charm, too. After graciously forgiving them, I brought up the party in a casual tone, and the next thing I knew they’d said yes—with the caveat that Mom had to drop me off and pick me up. It was a family rule for any event that might have alcohol around somewhere, in case I made Bad Choices.

I ended up at Juliette’s at seven-thirty. There was something about this town. Everyone seemed to live in semi-mansions. At least, compared to my suburb back home.It was like no one here had ever heard of a single-storey house.

Juliette’s mom steered me straight upstairs.

“I am so sorry you had to see the house like this. Usually we have it much neater, but Juliette thought she would wait until we got home from work to ask if she could have friends over.”

I’d seen messier hotel rooms ready for check-in. I tried hard to locate the “mess” on my way upstairs, like a real-life game of Where’s Waldo? One of the trimmed pillows on the couch looked like it was a bit crooked. That might have been it.

Juliette’s room, on the other hand, was what you could call messy. Could probably call it trashed, even. The floor—at least, I think there was a floor, it was hard to tell—was covered in no fewer than three layers of clothing. Juliette was wandering around her room in a bra and a denim skirt, digging through the floordrobe. Presumably for a shirt. She didn’t seem bothered when she noticed me walk in, either. Whatwasit with girls and boundaries when it came to guys they knew were gay? I mean, Jesus, I’d just met her, and now I knew she had a mole sitting right under her left bra cup. Was I the only one who thought that was kind of weird? Really?

Niamh and Lara sat crossed-legged on the king-sized bed. On the bedside table a half-empty bottle of soda stood beside a Minnie Mouse lamp. Lara was still in her outfit from school, but Niamh had changed into a black romper. Significantly more glamorous than the workout gear she’d worn all day. Both girls looked up as I came in; then, with a relieved sigh, Niamh fished a vodka bottle out from beneath Juliette’s pillow. I guessed they’d thought I was Juliette’s mom.

Niamh patted the bed next to her with one hand, refilling her drink with the other. “Ollie-oop! You made it.”

Guess that nickname was sticking. Joy.

Juliette clapped her hands, retrieved a metallic silver shirt from the chaos, and turned to me. “Hey you. I’ll grab you a glass. You can share our vodka.”

“Or drink it straight,” Lara added, swirling her soda around the glass. “You might need a stiff drink before tonight.”

What was that supposed to mean? I considered calling her out on it, but I decided to play nice for a while longer. No use making enemies in the only group I had right now. “Actually, I’m okay for now, thanks.”

Lara rolled her eyes back so only the whites were visible. “Let me guess. You don’t drink?”

“Not often,” I said airily. And by that, I meant “never.” Back in San Jose, my friends were mostly straight edge. It was coolernotto drink in our circle. I couldn’t think of a way to say that without sounding like a pretentious douche bag, though, so I left it.

Lara raised her glass. “Then let tonight be one of the special occasions.”

I smiled with my lips. “No, thank you.”

Niamh looked between us nervously. Lara blinked at me, then took a deep gulp of her own drink. “Whatever, dude. Chill. Take it you, uh, don’t smoke, either? What are your views on swearing and premarital sex, pray tell?”

I was saved from responding by Juliette, who shook her head, hopped over the nearest clothing pile, and sprayed perfume all over herself like it was deodorant. If her scent goal for the night was to turn into a walking asthma hazard, she was nailing it. “No smoking tonight,unfortunately,” she said. “Mom’s been catching on, open windows or not.”

Niamh threw herself back on the bed and kicked her legs in the air in a kind of yoga-protest. I watched her, then glanced back to Lara in time to catch her gesturing to me while pulling an “is he for real?” face at Juliette.

Lara didn’t realize I noticed her. Juliette did, though. She chewed the inside of her lip, but didn’t try to defend me. Which was fair, I guessed. She’d only just met me. Why should she go into battle on my behalf? Still. It didn’t do wonders for my comfort levels. I’d better start practicing mindfulness real fast, or I might do something rash, like fake salmonella poisoning and bail. But then I’d have wasted all that emotional blackmail on my parents, and ruined my chances at fitting in with a group. Even if it was a group that was maybe a little too edgy for me. It was better than being alone.

I spent a solid twenty or so seconds thinking over all of the above. And by that, I mean I spent a solid twenty or so seconds sitting in silence, staring ahead mindfully. My brain had officially gone on strike. I think I might have been panicking.

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