Page 65 of It's in the Contract
She’s right. This is huge. I fluff the waves of my hair to give me some time to think. “It’s not just about votes anymore,” I say, surprising even myself. “Yes, hopefully this will help me reach the nerd crowd and get more votes. But it’s more than that, Suze.” I pause and glance at the yacht. The bass pumps, and party-goers put their hands in the air and cheer. “There’s something wrong with our school. Why do we have these lines that divide us? I want to change that.”
Suzy sighs. “You’re right, of course. I just hope you know what you’re doing.” We turn to rejoin the group.
I wish I knew what I was doing, too. I’m not sure of anything anymore. But I’m never going to win that crown or make a change if I don’t take a few risks. This party could go great. I could show Emma and her friends that I genuinely care, that labels don’t matter to me, and win their votes along with others they associate with.
Or things could go horribly, horribly wrong and I could lose the votes and momentum I have, plus the trust of Emma and her friends.
I take a deep breath and turn toward the gangway that will get us onto the yacht. “Who’s ready to party?”
Our group stepsonto the enormous deck of the yacht lined with tables of food and disco lighting sparkling from a smaller deck up higher. Hordes of students are on board, chatting by the food tables or jumping and screaming with the music. The deck sways gently up and down with the lapping waves in the harbor.
People see us and freeze, staring. I smile and wave, pretending that nothing’s out of the ordinary. Pretending that there’s nothing strange about the group standing behind me.
Annabelle Frayser from the cheer squad stares and points. She turns to her friend to whisper something in her ear, and they both laugh. Suzy links her arm through mine like she can protect me from the stares. “Just smile and pretend like everything’s normal,” I say.
I step forward, and my unique group follows. When I glance behind me, I see Emma surveying the yacht like she owns it, arms crossed and mouth working on a piece of gum. Her ripped black dress looks like something out of a Tim Burton movie. Taylor stares at his feet, rocking back and forth slightly, wearing a denim jacket and jeans that are just a tad too short. Tina chews her nails and doesn’t take her eyes off of her red tennis shoes. I spot Dana, Troy, Kayla, and Arjun in the crush of bodies in the center of the deck, dancing. Dana throws her head back in laughter and pure joy.
“Callie, can I take a picture with you?” Vanessa Franklin from my English class steps in for a selfie before I can say anything. I smile quickly.
“See you later!” She taps away on her phone, already posting the pic to social media.
Ashli Sato, a girl with dark hair and ears pierced about ten times, hands me a cup of punch. “I think it’s so nice of you to include them, Callie,” she says quietly. “They’ve probably never been to a party like this before.” She smiles and looks at Emma. “Have any of you even seen a yacht?”
Emma raises an eyebrow and grabs a strawberry soda.
“Thanks?” I say, taking a sip. Bleh. It’s sickeningly sweet. Tina grabs a cup and takes a huge gulp.
Luckily I don’t see Brielle anywhere, not yet anyway. I don’t know what she’d do if she knew who I invited to her party.
“Do you guys want some food?” I ask the group, setting my cup of punch off to the side.
“I would have gone with you to the end, into the very fires of Mordor,” Taylor says, putting a hand on his heart.
“That means yes,” Emma says.
We head to the food tables and grab appetizers served on tiny plates—smoked salmon dip and almond crackers, mini-charcuterie boards with salami, gouda cheese, and fig jam, and meatball skewers.
Taylor fills up a plate to the brim with meatballs, smiling. “Looks like meat’s back on the menu, boys.”
Emma shakes her head and smiles.
We stand off to the side and eat, and I notice that Taylor is getting more and more agitated. He drops his food, smearing marinara on his shirt, and his hand flapping gets more quick and irritated. He brings his hands by his eyes and shakes them back and forth.
“Is he okay?” I ask Emma. Suzy engages Tina in a conversation, complimenting her shirt. Tina’s face turns tomato red.
Emma sets down her plate and hurries over to Taylor. “I should’ve known it was a bad idea to bring him.”
“No,” I say. “It wasn’t. The cliques we have in high school are stupid. Taylor deserves to be here just as much as anyone.”
Emma takes Taylor’s upper arms and squeezes hard. He seems to settle, his agitated motions ceasing. “Thanks, Callie.” Emma’s smile is genuine, her voice warm. I smile back.
Nick Faust, a running back on the football team, points at Taylor and laughs. “What’s wrong, bro? Can’t handle the bass?” The cup of punch he’s carrying sloshes over when he mimics Taylor’s hand flapping, and his friends laugh.
“Stop it!” Emma says.
“We should get out of here,” Suzy says.
“Yeah,” I say. “I think you’re right.”
