Page 33 of The New Year's Party
“Backward alphabet while you do this,” said Doug as hestood on one foot and began to tap his head and rub his stomach. “Z... Y... W... no, X... fuck...” A few people laughed.
Will dug his car keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Phelps.
“So I hear this party has an epic history,” Allie said as she coaxed a piece of silver construction paper into a conical shape. “Remind me—when was the first party? And who all was there?”
“2005,” said Phelps as he bent a pipe cleaner into the shape of what looked like a penis. “First party was at Doug’s mom’s house.”
“It was all of us here, right?” began Doug. “Plus, let’s see, Ted, and Bunny, and, uh...”
“Oscar,” said Hellie.
“Oscar!” various people echoed as if in the shock of having forgotten him.
Waves of adrenaline pounded through Will at the name.
“Who’s Oscar?” said Allie in a politely interested voice.
“My boyfriend before Will,” said Jenn quickly. “And our first craft was decorating our wineglasses with stick-on jewels and stuff, remember? So we could find our own glass?”
And my friend, thought Will.My friend who needed me, and I wasn’t there for him.
“Is Oscar coming tonight?” said Allie.
“No,” said Jenn shortly.
“Dude, he killed himself,” said Doug.
“Doug!” reproved Hellie.
“What? It’s true!”
“Oh, my God,” said Allie. “I’m so sorry—”
“Thank you,” said Jenn.
“I barely knew him,” said Doug. “He was into that Christian group Jenn and Will were part of at Ball State, what was it called? North? South? East?”
Will almost said it,but Olivia beat him to it.
“Compass,” she said.
“That’s it!” said Doug. “He gotdeepthat night, man, he got deep... Do you guys remember that? We were sitting in the kitchen, it was, like three in the morning or something and Oscar was going on about how we’re naturally corrupt and powerless to change ourselves or some evangelical bullshit, pardon my French...” He slung an arm around Hellie’s neck, pulling her close. “People can change, man. People can turn theirlivesaround if they just—if they just have someone who fuckingbelievesin them, you know, someone who doesn’t put them in a box. If you get put into a box, if people trap you like that,that’swhat breaks you, right? Am I right?” His grin was looking more and more manic. “Think about it, it’s like money, right, like the US economy, because the gold standard’s gone, man, it’s all fake, it’s just numbers on the computer... it’s just ourbeliefin our money that makes it have any value, right? When things turn sour, when everything takes a shit, it’s when people stop fuckingtrusting, when they assume the fucking worst of each other...”
Will had no idea what Doug was going on about, but something he said stuck to Will’s mind like a burr.If you get put into a box, that’s what breaks you.
Was Doug talking about Oscar? He might as well have been talking about Will. Just when you’d written Doug off, he said something incredibly insightful.
“...and once that trust is lost, it’s not a failure of whateverfailed, okay, it’s a failure of belief, of the people who were supposed tobackthat system, are you guys tracking, a failure of decent fucking trust—”
“I think everyone’s eyes are glazing over, Dougie,” interrupted Hellie, wiggling out from under his arm and picking up a piece of shiny blue paper. “I think I’m going to do a wizard’s hat with the phases of the moon in a circle.”
“Who’s doing devil horns? Someone has to have devil horns,” said Phelps.
“What are you making there, Phelps?” said Bennett.
“A dick,” said Phelps with a grin as he connected the pipe cleaner to his cone hat. “That way I can be a dickhead.”
Doug roared with laughter. Bennett guffawed. Allie groaned.
