I’m at Steve Mason’s house by eight, but Justin’s car is nowhere in sight. In fact, there aren’t that many cars out in front. So I wait and watch. After a while, people start arriving. Even though I’ve just spent a day and a half at their school, I don’t recognize any of them. They were all peripheral.
Finally, just after nine-thirty, Justin’s car pulls up. Rhiannon is with him, as I’d hoped she’d be. As they head in, he walks a little bit in front, with her a little behind. I get out of my car and follow them inside.
I’m worried there will be someone at the door, but the party’s already spiraled into its own form of chaos. The early guests are well past the point of drunkenness, and everyone else is quickly catching up. I know I look out of place—Nathan’s wardrobe is more suited to a debate tournament than a Saturday-night house party. But nobody really cares; they’re too caught up in each other or themselves to notice a random geek in their midst.
The lights are dim, the music is loud, and Rhiannon is hard to find. But just the fact that I am in the same place as her has me nervously exhilarated.
Justin is in the kitchen, talking with some guys. He looks at ease, in his element. He finishes one beer and immediately goes for another.
I push past him, push through the living room and find myself in the den. The instant I step in the room, I know she’s here. Even though the music’s blaring from a laptop connected to some speakers, she’s over by the CD collection, thumbing through cases. Two girls are talking nearby, and I have a sense that at one point she was a part of their conversation, then decided to drop out.
I walk over and see that one of the CDs she’s looking at has a song we listened to on our car ride.
“I really like them,” I say, gesturing to the CD. “Do you?”
She startles, as if this is a quiet room and I am a sudden noise. I notice you, I want to say. Even when no one else does, I do. I will.
“Yeah,” she says. “I like them, too.”
I start to sing the song, the one from the car. Then I say, “I like that one in particular.”
“Do I know you?” she asks.
“I’m Nathan,” I say, which isn’t a no or a yes.
“I’m Rhiannon,” she says.
“That’s a beautiful name.”
“Thanks. I used to hate it, but I don’t so much anymore.”
“Why?”
“It’s just a pain to spell.” She looks at me closely. “Do you go to Octavian?”
“No. I’m just here for the weekend. Visiting my cousin.”
“Who’s your cousin?”
“Steve.”
This
is a dangerous lie, since I have no idea which of the guys is Steve, and I have no way of accessing the information.
“Oh, that explains it.”
She is starting to drift away from me, just as I imagine she drifted away from the girls talking next to us.
“I hate my cousin,” I say.
This gets her attention.
“I hate the way he treats girls. I hate the way he thinks he can buy all his friends by throwing parties like this. I hate the way that he only talks to you when he needs something. I hate the way he doesn’t seem capable of love.”
I realize I’m now talking about Justin, not Steve.
“Then why are you here?” Rhiannon asks.