“They’ll have food at the party. Besides, Lucy is already there, and if I show up any later, everyone will be talking in their little groups and I’ll end up getting ditched on the couch all night with nobody to hang out with,” I say. Except Finn, but I leave that part out. My parents get weird when anything to do with dating comes up.
Dad appears next to Mom with his arms crossed. His jet-black hair is sticking up all over the place, and there are splotches of dried ink and marker on his fingers.
Whenever certain superheroes go off the radar, they let their beards get all wild and untamable, like they can’t be bothered interacting with the real world anymore. I think that’s what Dad’s trying to do, except he can’t grow a beard—just really fluffy boy-band-looking hair. Also, Dad isn’t exactly a superhero; he works from home in our basement creating graphic novels about superheroes.
“Sounds like a weird party to me. If your friends are ignoring you just because you show up late, I’m not sure they’re really your friends,” Dad says with the straight-to-the-point voice he always uses. “Are you sure you want to go?”
“Takeshi,” Mom says like a warning.
He blinks innocently. “What?”
She waves a finger at him. “She’s not staying home to watch The Lord of the Rings with you. I told you already—nobody should be wasting twelve hours of their life on the same three movies every single year.”
Dad lets his arms drop. “The extra footage is important for the character development! It’s an experience, Claire.”
Mom tuts, scrunching her freckled nose. “Yes, a painful one that the rest of your family shouldn’t have to endure.”
“You were trying to get her to stay home too,” he points out. “How is food any better than Tolkien? Besides”—he looks at me like he’s hoping for backup—“Nami likes Legolas.”
I shrug like it can’t be helped. “Elves are cool.”
Mom’s face softens. “Is that the pretty one?” She sighs. “They should have given him more scenes.”
Dad lifts his hands up like the answer is so obvious. “Extra. Footage.”
I rummage through my bag to find my keys, laughing at the way they seem to be sizing each other up. “I really have to go. But wait—why are you both trying to get me to stay home?”
Mei appears at the bottom step with her cell phone firmly in her hand. “They’re freaking out about you going to college. Mom was crying all day about it.”
“Don’t tell her that,” Mom hisses, and then looks back at me with her brown eyes full of embarrassment. “We’re just going to miss you, that’s all. And we know we’re on a time limit now.”
I wedge my keys in my palm, shifting my feet. My parents picked the worst time ever to develop an emotional insecurity about me leaving the nest. If it were any other night, I could’ve stayed and found some way to cheer them up. But it’s my graduation party, and Finn is waiting. Tonight is too important to miss.
“I’ve still got two and a half months left. There’s plenty of time to hang out. And have a Lord of the Rings marathon.” I look at Dad, and he raises a fist in the air triumphantly.
Mom tightens her mouth and pretends she didn’t hear the last part. “Okay. Well, have a good time. And I know you’re eighteen, but you still live in our house, so—”
“I know, I know,” I interrupt. “I’ll be home by midnight.”
Dad grins. “And if nobody wants to talk to you, you can always come home early.”
Mei giggles from beside him. “Are you kidding? There’s no way she’s going to come home early. She’ll be too busy making out with Finn—”
“Goodbye!” I shout loudly, just as Mom’s and Dad’s faces start to morph into concern, and I’m out the door and hurrying toward my car with nothing but blissful excitement flooding my chest.
2
THE WINDSHIELD WIPERS SCRAPE THE glass like a metronome, causing a rubbery squeak that aggravates my ears. I turn the volume up in the car to try to drown it out, keeping my eyes on the road.
The streetlights appear less frequently on the drive toward Foxtail Woods. Our entire senior class pooled together to rent a cabin for the night, and I’m still another twenty minutes away. I force my gaze beyond the scattered raindrops landing in front of my headlights and spot a restaurant Finn and I have been to a hundred times before. They have an old jukebox there and about thirty different milkshake flavors to choose from.
I wonder if it will feel different, going back there after Finn and I make it more official than it already is. I wonder if we’ll order one chocolate milkshake instead of two to dip our french fries in, and if we’ll sit on the same side of the booth, hold hands, and stay an extra hour just to make the night last longer.
I wonder if we’ll have kissed before the next time we walk through those doors, and if Finn will have called me his girlfriend, and if we’ll have talked about what will happen when we both go off to college.
I wonder if the rest of the summer will feel like a thousand summers and if time will decide to be on our side and slow down.
Ophelia’s voice shatters my thoughts. “You have an incoming call from Lucy Martinez. Would you like to accept?”
“Yes, please,” I reply, and wait for the background noise to erupt through my car speaker. “Hey, Luce. I’m on my way. I just passed the turnoff for Spike’s Diner.”
“Oh, thank God!” she practically groans into the phone.
I frown. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, everything is fine. I just have a massive favor to ask you.” Her voice is almost completely overpowered by music and an unnecessarily loud bass.
“Pleeeeeeease!” someone else sings into the phone, their words slurring together. “We’ll owe you foreverrrr.”
A chorus of distant laughter floods through the speaker. It sounds like at least half the senior class is already at the cabin.
I’m not usually late to anything, especially when it involves socializing. Walking into a party when everyone has already been drinking is awkward enough, never mind the fact that I’m nervous about seeing Finn. I should’ve skipped the hundred outfit changes and shown up half an hour early, as usual, and quietly laid claim to whatever chair was closest to the chip bowl.
Because nothing says “I’m enjoying this party and totally not feeling out of place” like hoarding the Doritos.
“What do you need?” I ask, hoping the favor won’t make me later than I already am.
Lucy shuffles behind the phone. “We have an emergency. Taylor was supposed to bring most of the alcohol, but he’s in trouble with his parents and can’t make it. Can you stop by a gas station on the way and grab, like, some wine coolers and stuff? We’ll pay you back as soon as you get here.”
“Are you serious?” I practically choke. “You said you needed a favor, not an accomplice to a crime. There’s no way I can buy alcohol for the entire freaking senior class!”
“Oh, come on, please? You never get in trouble with your parents. It’s not like they wouldn’t forgive you for a one-time mistake. Besides, you don’t even drink, so that’s practically seventy percent of why any parent would even be mad,” Lucy argues.