Page 58 of The Way I Used to Be
“Hey,” he calls to another guy standing in the kitchen filling a plastic cup from the keg. “Hey, man, why don’t you get some drinks for these two lovely ladies—friends of Troy and his tool bag, Alex!” And they both start laughing.
Mara looks at me like she doesn’t get it. Clearly our Alex and Troy are not of the top tier here. Keg Guy hands both Mara and me a plastic cup full of beer, still laughing.
“They’re not our friends,” I correct, setting my cup down on the counter. “We don’t even know them,” I protest, but they’re not listening.
I look at Keg Guy—he’s older too. I look all around us. Everyone’s older. This is not a high school party. Clearly, this is a college party.
“The only reason they’re even here is because Troy’s my little twerp brother. You’ll find them out by the pool—they’ll be the heads attached to the bong,” he says with a laugh, pointing in the direction of the back door, dismissing us like we’re just these silly little girls. “Go on, go get baked so you have something to talk about in home ec on Monday!”
Mara starts walking away, unfazed. I follow her through the sliding screen door, and sure enough, there they are in a cloud of smoke with a small crowd encircling them. Everyone laughing and talking slowly. They look up and Alex yells, “Hey, you made it! Awesome. Come join us.” He slides over on the bench they’re sitting on, making room for us. Now they suddenly don’t seem so cool. I want to just turn around and leave.
“I forgot my drink,” I tell Mara, but she’s already left my side to go sit down with them, smiling and girly, already over our humiliation in the kitchen. I turn back to get my beer, the only thing that’s going to make this bearable. That guy’s still leaning against the counter next to his friend, his eyes following my every move as I walk back into the room. “Excuse me,” I say, sharply. “My drink. You’re standing in front of it.” I have to step in close, reaching around him. But he snatches the cup and holds it up high over my head.
“First, tell me which one you’re for? I gotta know,” he says, waving the cup in the air.
I look up at the smirk on his face. The way he looks at me like I’m some kid he can tease. Which is the total opposite of the way he was looking at me in the doorway five minutes earlier, like he liked what he saw, before he knew I was connected to Troy. I cross my arms. “I’m notforanyone. And I’m not jumping for that, so you can just stop embarrassing yourself,” I tell him, looking around like I’m embarrassed for him. I sound tougher than I’ve ever sounded in my life. In fact, I feel tougher than I’ve ever felt in my life—invincible.
“We got a live one!” Keg Guy whistles.
“I didn’t know,” he says, his face changing from amused to intrigued. “Sorry.” He finally hands me the cup. His eyes narrowing on me, he asks, “You go to school with my brother?”
“No. We just met. He told us about this party. Thought we’d check it out. Not impressed,” I add, looking around like I’m completely uninterested in anything that’s going on here.
“How old are you—the truth?” He grins.
“Jailbait!” Keg Guy coughs under his breath, smacking him on the shoulder before he runs off, leaving us alone in the kitchen.
“The truth,” he repeats.
The truth. I take a big sip from the cup. His words echo in my head. Truth. What is that, anyway? No such thing.
“What’s your problem?” I ask, sure to sound positively bored out of my skull. “I’m eighteen.” Except that is a total lie. Not the truth at all. “Calm down.”
“All right, all right,” he says. “Just bustin’ your chops.” And then he smiles his smile from the doorway. “So, not impressed, huh?” he asks.
“Not particularly.” I shrug.
“Don’t you wanna join your friend out there?” he gestures beyond the sliding door to the patio, where Mara sits between Alex and Troy, her head thrown back in laughter.
“That’s not really my thing,” I tell him.
“Oh, really? Well, what is your thing?” he asks, looping his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
I feel my heart race, and the corners of my mouth turn upward, somehow, as I look at him. “I don’t know,” I answer. And that is the truth.
“Well, how ’bout a tour of the house?” he asks. “What kind of host would I be?”
“Okay,” I agree. I look at Mara once more before I follow him out of the kitchen. She’s having a great time. She’s fine. He leads me up the staircase to the second floor.
“Maybe we can find something a little more exciting for you?” he says, looking over his shoulder at me.
“Maybe,” I reply, not sure who is doing my talking right now. He grabs my hand when we reach the landing, and takes me down to the end of the hall, past people in rooms smoking and drinking, laughing and kissing. Then we go up another flight of stairs. My legs feel like they’re jelly by the time we reach the top. There’s a short hall with only two doors on either side, both closed. There’s no one on this floor.
“It’s quiet up here,” I say, feeling my confidence slowly beginning to drain as I realize just how far away I am from everyone, just how far this has already gone.
“Exactly. This is only for special guests,” he says, taking a key ring out of his pocket as he approaches the door.
“Special guests, huh?” I repeat, standing close behind him.
