Page 132 of Deep End

“You can. Pen knows about it.”

The garden door opens. Kyle comes in, muttering something about being too wasted to remember who threw darts at the fence, but Hasan ignores him. “Okay. So, if she ever asks again . . .”

“What are you guys talking about?” Kyle interrupts.

Hasan sighs. “Just Sweedy’s love triangle with Pen and Vandy.”

Kyle whistles. “Dude, you’re doingVandy?”

“There are no secrets,” Lukas says, once again pretending Kyle doesn’t exist. “Whatever Pen asks, you can answer sincerely.”

“Okay.” Hasan. “That’s a fucking relief, because I’m shit at lies.”

“Dude,” Kyle groans. “How did you manage to bag Vandy?”

I tense. Wait for Lukas’s response, but it’s Hasan who says, “Kyle, what kind of question is that?”

“Others tried. In vain.Itried. Maybe I shouldn’t have given up?”

“Bro, did you just say you shouldn’t have listened when she said no?” Hasan sounds pained.

“All I’m saying is, I kinda thought of her as off-limits—”

“She is.” It’s Lukas’s usual, laid-back tone, just a brush of tension sitting at the edges. I wonder if Kyle notices. “To you,” Lukas adds, which feels a bit like a threat.

Kyle, though, is still drunk. “I’m impressed. She’s seriously cute. The dimples are cute. The little gap between the front teeth is cute. Her t—”

A glass is set on a surface. None too gently. “Consider carefully whether you want to finish that sentence, Kyle.”

My cheeks are on fire. There’s a pause—in which, I’m sure, Kyle’s life flashes before his eyes. “You know what? I have no desire to.” He clears his throat. “What about Pen? Pen’s supercute, too. Always liked her. And if you’re not dating her . . .”

“Be my guest.”

“Got it. Pen, green light. Vandy, death wish.”

“You know, Kyle,” Hasan interjects, “you don’t have to hit oneverywoman you’re introduced to. They’ll experience fulfilling lives without your clumsy presence in them.”

It feels like a now-or-never entry point, so I walk into the kitchen as casually as possible. “Hey.”

“Oh.” Kyle has the decency to flush a little. “Hey, Vandy?”

I smile at him. Tight-lipped, because I’m suddenly self-conscious about my teeth, and I wore braces way too many years for that.The dentist said my wisdom teeth would descend and push the front togetheris on the tip of my tongue.

Whatever. My teeth are fine.Cute, even.

“Hey, Vandy,” Hasan says, a bit awkwardly.

Lukas just drops the red Solo cup in his hand into a garbage bag, comes to me, takes my face between his hands, and kisses me.

It’s slow. And thorough. And surprisingly public. I can practicallyhearHasan and Kyle look away.

“I, um, have to go,” I say at the end.

“I’ll walk you home.”

“Actually, I want to make a stop before. I’d rather go by myself.” It’s a lie, but I’m rattled. Overhearing people talk about you is like being pinned to the vivisection table while med students take notes on your organs. I need to be alone for a minute.

“I’ll still—”

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