Page 83 of The Sweetest Cruelty: Hudson
Nick rolled his eyes, “Sure thing, Mom.”
Climbing out of the car, I joined them on the pavement. “Have a good one, girls. Nick, keep them safe.”
“Absolutely. Ladies, shall we?” Nick chuckled, holding his arms out so we could both take one.
As we followed the flow of teenagers who were all walking towards the action like robots in a trance, I decided to ask about Xander.
“So, your brother works for your dad at his club?”
He didn’t answer right away. He almost looked embarrassed.
“Err, yeah. It’s just a small family business,” Nick said.
Harper cut in, snorting with a tut, “Small family business? Chicago's is the best nightclub in the city.”
Harper clearly wanted to show Nick how impressed she was. He grinned down at her and tucked her small frame further against him. It was sweet.
So Xander had some business to take care of for his father. That was probably why he was dressed so differently from the first time I’d seen him. At Lang’s, he’d oozed that Grease vibe in black jeans, black tee, and a leather jacket, but he’d picked us up wearing a shirt and beige chinos. Very smart.
Nick started to say how tough his dad was to work for and that Xander never got any time to himself. I felt a bit sorry for him.
Thoughts of Hudson eventually pushed those of Xander away. I so hoped he was at the party.
As we got to the bottom of the drive, so much for a modest house, Nash’s place washuge.There were groups of teenagers standing around outside, on the lawns and the driveways and the main doors into the property were open. A group of boys from our school were standing outside smoking, and they checked us out as we walked past.
As soon as we got into the grand lobby, Nick made an excuse and headed towards the stairs. Teenagers were drinking and laughing, the music from further inside the house thudding into the air. Nash Straker had a badass sound system set up; the bass made my heart pump faster.
“I need a whizz, I’ll catch you up,” Nick yelled. Nice.
As Harper and I weaved our way in and out of the rooms on the ground floor, there were bodies everywhere, and my courage started to wobble. It didn’t surprise me that this event had earned its reputation as being the place to be.
Although there were a ton of people I didn’t know, you could see they all ran with the popular crowd. Everyone looked so confident and blended perfectly with the environment. It screamed cool kids. This was my first party in America, and if I wanted it to resonate in my future, I knew I had to give it my all. An experience I could look back on and think, I did that, I was there, I was someone. I could feel people checking me out, and I lapped it up, enjoying the attention.
Most of the crowd was past the tipsy stage, and it was only six thirty. I remember seeing the cheer squad showing off on the front lawn. They looked like they’d started drinking as soon as they had rolled out of bed that morning.
“Let’s go get a drink,” Harper shouted over the pounding music. Did it have to be so loud? Dousing out my inner prude, I had no option but to stagger along with her as she dragged me down the corridor. One, which was again littered with students. We had to push through most of them. Harper appeared to know where she was going, which surprised me, considering she’d told me she’d never been to one of Nash’s parties before.
We passed through a couple of large, grand living rooms. In the second one, some of the furniture had been pushed back to create a dance floor. It was being used as such by a group of wasted girls and the two boys ogling them.
The kitchen was tucked into the far-right hand corner of the ground floor, and sunlight was streaming in from the back through bi-folding doors which were fully open.
The kitchen was a large room with units down one side, and in the middle was a massive marble island covered with alcohol, from beer to wine to top-end spirits. Atthe opposite side of the kitchen was a dining area with chairs to seat around twelve people, and on top of the surface were three large beer kegs. A queue had formed, and a guy I recognised from the football team was squirting frothy beer into the waiting cups. He was topless and wearing shorts, his hair slightly damp, which suggested he’d been swimming. And of course, Nash’s place had a pool, and it washuge, nothing like at our house.
As Harper pulled apart two red solo cups, I turned back to the pool area, where more people were partying. The music outside was different to that booming from the speakers in the main living room, and the mixture sounded distorted from the kitchen. Not that anyone seemed to care.
I smelled the BBQ before I saw it; another guy from the football team was busy on the grill. A group of girls who were in my history class were paddling their legs in the water, chatting, and laughing. The pool was flanked by lush, grassed areas and a large patio where people were sitting on blankets and towels, and that’s when I saw it.
The sea.
Nash’s house led down to the beach. I eyed the fencing where there was a gate with sand scattered across the path. A lump formed in my throat as I thought about my mother’sTo the Beachsign and how it would fit so perfectly there. My fingers toyed with the chain around my neck. My sixteenth birthday present from my mother.
“Here you go,” Harper said, tugging my attention back. I dropped my hand.
I investigated the contents of the cup with a wrinkled nose. “What is it?”
“Vodka and Coke,” she replied with a meaty grin. I toyed with the idea of saying no. I wasn’t a pushover and wouldn’t be peer pressured into drinking like I had in the UK, but my hand automatically lifted and took the drink from her hand. I decided I’d sip it.
“Thanks. But this is it.”
