“It’s okay, I can help.”
“No, seriously. Stop.” I pull the napkin from his hands. He stands up, arms raised in surrender. Everyone is staring at me. I place the trashed plate back onto the coffee table while everybody watches. I’ve never felt so uncomfortable in my life.
“So if it’s not yours, how did a condom wrapper end up on our bedside table?” his dad asks. “Did it fly in through the window?”
“We had some people over for Keely’s birthday, okay?” Andrew says, sitting back down on the coffee table.
“Some people? Like a party?” his mom asks.
“No, like a casual get-together with some friends. What did you guys expect, leaving us alone on her birthday weekend?”
“A casual get-together with some sexually active friends, it seems,” his dad adds.
“This isn’t a big deal,” Andrew says. “You’re blowing this all out of proportion.”
“Oh, am I?” his mom asks. “I haven’t even gotten started.”
* * *
• • • • • •
“We probably should have just let them believe it,” Andrew says later. We’re slumped in the hammock in his backyard, cocooned in a pile of coats to keep warm. It’s still a little too cold to be outside, but the thought of being in the same house with our parents after everything that’s just happened is too unpleasant. “They didn’t even seem mad when they thought it was ours.” He pushes his leg against the ground so that the hammock begins to swing. “If I knew they were gonna flip about the party, I would have just gone with it, you know?”
So our parents are making us get part-time jobs through the rest of the year. They’re disappointed we’re not being, in their words, trustworthy or dependable, and they think getting jobs will help teach us discipline. Which is messed up. It’s not like I’ve never worked. I spent my last two miserable summers bagging groceries at the local market, making awkward chitchat with all my parents’ friends when they came by the register. Andrew is the one who’s reckless, who acts impulsively, who jumps off cliffs with his eyes closed. I’m the one who’s always waiting at the bottom with the safety net.
This is the last semester of senior year. Last year when I was stressed about homework and the SATs, freaking out about getting into college, I was always so envious of the seniors who got to goof off, joking with teachers and skipping class like it didn’t matter. But I was just waiting for my turn. I knew one day I’d be able to float through the hallways too like I’d already finished. Now our parents are taking that away.
Not to mention these are my last few months with Andrew and Hannah.
“I can’t believe I’m in trouble too when it wasn’t even my party.” I pull a coat tighter around me to stay warm.
“Your birthday, your party,” he answers. “Besides, you’re an accessory to the crime. When you see a crime being committed and say nothing, that makes you responsible.”
“I’m not responsible, remember? I’m untrustworthy and undisciplined.”
“Yeah, you’re pretty terrible,” he agrees.
The sky is a bright gray, giving the illusion that we’re in a cloud. The bare branches of the trees above us stretch out like fingers. Inside the house, the windows are lit up by warm light. I can see Andrew’s mom emptying the dishwasher in the kitchen.
“That was weird earlier,” I say. “I can’t believe they thought we were . . . we . . .” I can’t say it, can’t get my mouth to wrap around the words. Instead, I laugh, shoving him slightly with my shoulder under the pile of coats. “Your mom clearly hasn’t met Party Andrew.”
“Let’s hope my mom never meets Party Andrew,” he says, shoving me back.
“Party Andrew eats bacon,” I say. “She’d be horrified.”
“Yeah. That’s the part that would make her the maddest.” He laughs, snuggling into my shoulder like a cat. “C’mon, Collins, you wouldn’t date me?”
“Oh, are you done with Cecilia?” I ask, pursing my lips. “And Susie Palmer? And Sophie Piznarski? And—”
“All right,” he says. “Point made.”
“It’s a moot point really.” I give us another push with my foot so the hammock keeps swinging. “We all know you’re gonna make little blond babies with Cecilia. Little Sally and Bobby.”
“You named them?”
“You named them, Andrew. In the future. I’m just reporting back. Sally loves manicures, lip gloss, and binge drinking, by the way. Just like her mother.”
“You’re so weird.”
“She’s an adorable kid.”
He laughs and soon I’m laughing too, our shoulders shaking so hard the hammock shakes too. I take a deep, gulping breath, trying to regain control, and suddenly I snort. Andrew hears and loses it.
“No, really,” he says between choked laughter. “You’re the adorable one. The sounds that come from your body are just so cute.”
“You know what’s cute?” I snort again before I can stop myself. “Hearing you say the word condom in front of our parents. I think that’ll be seared into my brain forever.”
“Really?” he asks. “I could have called it a ‘rubber’ and that would have been worse.”
“A little raincoat,” I say.
“Hey—a big raincoat,” he says back, and we both burst out laughing again. It strikes me somewhere in the back of my mind that this is the first time it’s ever occurred to me that Andrew has a penis—that it’s there, not even a foot away from me—only hidden by a few pieces of fabric. It’s a weird, uncomfortable thought, one that sticks out at an awkward angle. I shove it quickly away, and then I’m laughing again and it’s gone like it never even happened at all.
FIVE
WE’RE SITTING IN Greek mythology Monday morning when Danielle gets the note.
It’s an easy class, one of the ones basically designed for spring seniors, where you’re always breaking into little discussion groups and everyone just talks about the weekend. Danielle and Ava usually sit next to Chase and some of the other basketball guys so they get maximum flirt time, but today they’re with me. Danielle has been weirdly nice since the party—she brought me an iced coffee and a Ziploc bag of homemade cheddar scones before class and then sat down next to me like it was totally normal.
Making food for people is kinda Danielle’s thing, and she’s surprisingly great at it. She’ll probably have her own TV show someday. One time sophomore year we were all watching Kitchen Nightmares at Hannah’s house and Gordon Ramsay made some poor guy burst into tears, and Danielle said, I think I’d be good at that.