“Don’t apologize. Your sister never did.” She points me toward the keg. “Talk to the Roosters, they’re all right. Safe enough as far as society guys go. See what they heard about where the beer came from. I’m headed off to chat with the Cask boys.”
“Should you do that alone?”
“Don’t worry. I got this. I’ve been playing this game since before you were born.” She winks at me and storms off, like a hero racing into battle.
I watch her go and a slow awkward discomfort descends over me. She was my buffer but now I’m alone and expected to talk to a bunch of weed-smoking frat boys. I’ve never smoked in my life, let alone went up to strangers while they were doing it, but hell, it’s a party and I could use a beer refill. Or at least I do after I drink half mine down then dump the rest in the sand when I picture what Lesley would say if she knew I drank it all.
“Excuse me, can I get some more?” I bat my eyelashes at the boy working the tap. He’s tall, blond, tan, straight teeth, wearing cut-off jeans that he either got at a thrift store or at a designer boutique. He grins at me, eyes me up and down like he’s checking out produce at the supermarket, then pulls me closer by the wrist and begins dumping beer into my cup.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you around,” he says over the music. His guy friends watch curiously, but they’re too busy smoking to really pay attention. “What’s your name?”
“Kaye. What’s yours?”
“Clifton Carmonas.” He says it like I’m supposed to know what that means. When I stare at him blankly, he shrugs like it’s no big deal, but I can tell he’s disappointed. He must be the type of guy that expects you to have heard of him. “You’re new, right?”
“First year, yeah.”
“Cool, cool, how do you like Saint Parras so far? It’s a paradise, right?”
“Everyone keeps saying that word paradise, but I don’t know. It rains a lot and there are spiders bigger than my hand in my bathroom.”
He barks a laugh. “Shit, I hate the spiders too. But they’re harmless.”
“And it’s an island, so there’s, like, nothing coming in or out. We’re trapped here until the ferries come. I miss shopping, you know what I mean?”
“Totally,” he says, eyes sparkling. “Are you here alone?”
“All alone,” I say, nodding, and continue, “I keep seeing all these societies with their fancy stuff and I don’t know where it all comes from. Like, how the hell did these kegs get here?”
Clifton shrugs. “Cask got their own little operation up and running. Don’t know how but they must have someone on the inside helping them. One of the guys took me over to the boat yesterday since I know about sailing, it’s actually pretty nice. You should see—”
“Clifton.” One of his friends, a big guy with dark eyes and a scowl, steps forward. “You do realize this girl is from Calico, right?”
“Get the fuck outta here,” Clifton says before looking at me, his eyes bulging. “You’re not in Calico, are you?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“Ah, shit.” He sighs and shakes his head. “I can’t talk to you. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“You didn’t ask.” I swirl my beer and take a sip. “Why can’t you talk to me?”
“You know why.” The big guy glares. “Cask and Calico don’t get along and we’re a neutral third party. Roost doesn’t get dragged into petty squabbles.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. How big of them.
“Why? Because Cask is setting up their own smuggling operation?”
“Careful,” the big guy rumbles. “You shouldn’t say that shit out loud.”
Clifton’s squinting at me and leans forward. “Hey, you look familiar. Have I seen you around before?”
“You probably know my sister.” I hesitate, glancing back to see if Lesley’s around, but she’s nowhere nearby. I suddenly have an idea, and maybe it’s stupid but I don’t stop myself. “You know, the girl that died last year.”
“Oh, fuck.” Clifton pulls back. His eyes go wide. “You’re Lucy’s sister. I can see it.” He elbows the big guy in the side. “Dude, it’s Lucy’s sister.”
A hush falls over the smoking guys as they stare at me. I feel like a freak and my cheeks are burning, but they know her, they know my sister. I should be pressing them about Cask but suddenly the stupid smuggling ring isn’t important to me anymore.
“Did you hang out with her much?” I ask Clifton, meeting his gaze.