Page 116 of Collision
“Stop your whining. It’s time to move on to makeup!” she shushes me.
I wear a cream-colored sweater over the swimsuit along with the same skirt that I had on yesterday and, of course, my trusty Converse sneakers. After what seems like endless preparations, we finally go to pick up Alex.
When we arrive, we are immediately overwhelmed by the roar of dance music. The garden and pool are illuminated by jack-o’-lanterns resting on the grass, the candles inside them creating a soft atmosphere. A cardboard skeleton dangles from the door; some already tipsy person has amused themselves drawing a mustache on him. In the entrance, someone calls out exuberantly: “Tiffany! Finally you’re here!” Carol and her friends join us, all in a clamor. Alex and I look at each other for a few seconds. We are both thinking the same thing: How in the hell did we end up here?
“We’re here,” Tiffany specifies, pointing at me and Alex.
Carol turns her attention to Alex. “Oh, right, we take Performing Arts together. And you, you’re the one who was with Baker, right?”
I nod stiffly. I don’t like being remembered just for that or still being associated with him, but I am going to have to live with it.
“Anyway, you’re all welcome, you can get changed in the pool house.” She points to a paved pathway on our right and invites us to enjoy the evening. The last time I was here, I was so enchanted by the grandeur of the house that I hadn’t even noticed the pool house.
Tiffany and Alex walk around in just their suits. I, on the other hand, couldn’t do it. Against Tiffany’s will, I forced Alex to lend me his T-shirt, which goes all the way down to my butt, because mine doesn’t cover enough.
An hour later, Tiffany and I find ourselves sitting at a table, surrounded by a bunch of her friends who are chatting about some new influencer I’ve never heard of. Alex is in the garden with some of his friends from class, and I am—surprise, surprise—bored out of my mind. There’s still no sign of Thomas. I decide to go and stock up on food. I grab a paper plate and start selecting from the dishes set out. An imposing figure appears to my right, holding out a slice of lemon cake.
“I looked for something pistachio flavored but couldn’t find anything.” I recognize Travis’s voice even before I even lift my eyes. I almost drop my plate. I cannot believe that he is here, but more importantly, that he actually has the nerve to speak to me.
“I would like to be left alone.” I walk past him, leaving him and the slice of cake hanging.
“I already left you alone, thinking I was doing the right thing. But all I did was push you further away.”
I turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Push me further away? I didn’t drift away from you, I cut you out of my life. It’s a very different thing,” I point out.
“Do you still hate me that much?”
“Hating you would mean that I still had feelings for you. I don’t feel anything for you anymore,” I declare, as I fill my plate with a pretzel mix.
“I deserve your contempt. I deserve all of it.”
“Not just mine.” I slip a napkin under the plate I’m holding and continue. “Did you ever apologize to Leila for what you did to her?”
“I am guessing I’m not on the list of people she wants to see right now,” he says with a flippancy that makes me sick to my stomach.
“So you haven’t done it, then? I know you well enough to know that the real reason you haven’t done it isn’t anything to do with being disliked. It’s that you simply don’t care.”
“How can you expect me to just go see her after everything that happened?”
“The same way you just took her to bed while you were with me.” The volume of my voice has risen dramatically.
Embarrassed, Travis tries to put a hand on my shoulder, but I push him away contemptuously. “I will apologize to Leila. I fully intend to do that. But I wanted to make things right with you first.”
I gape at him. “You’re still not getting it: there is nothing to make right anymore! You know what, Travis? I came to this stupid party to have fun, but if I’d known I’d find you here, I would have spared myself!” I drop my plate of appetizers on the table and leave without giving him time to respond. Behind me, he throws the cake into a small trash can and storms out of the pool house, furious.
Tiffany runs to intercept me. “Oh, shit. I swear, he promised me he wouldn’t come,” she exclaims apologetically. “He should be gone now; I’ll text him again to really hammer in the point.”
“Don’t worry, Tiff. I can manage,” I spit the words resignedly, as from a distance I watch Travis refilling his glass and draining it in one gulp.
“If I had known he was going to show up, I wouldn’t have done what I did.” She runs her hands over her face, stroking her perfectly defined eyebrows.
I frown. “Why? What did you do?”
We sit down at a table, and she crosses her legs, hugging herself as her long, wavy hair falls over her shoulders. “When you left after lunch, I went to the coffee shop and suddenly Thomas barges in after me, asking about you.”
I clear my throat. “About me?”
“Yes, he wanted to know where you were. After the way he treated you, I wanted to make him squirm for a while and not tell him anything. He was getting super annoying, though, so I just let slip one small irrelevant detail: that he could find you at this party.” Well, there’s one mystery solved.
