Gracie takes this opportunity to slide next to Aster. Staking her claim? Who even knows. They go through the stacks of bottles and cans in the fridge. Gracie chooses something called a Spritz for herself, gets a small can of sparkling pink wine for Aster, then asks me what I want.
Although I’ve had alcohol before, I’m a total lightweight, so I don’t drink very often. In fact, the last time I did was Halloween, and I way overdid it that night. I don’t even remember a huge chunk of that party. When I hesitate, Aster grins. “You should have a Lavender Mule to match that dress.” She opens a bottled cocktail in a deep-purple color and hands it to me.
I take a slow sip of the drink, doing my best not to make a face. It’s strong, but also floral and gingery. I should probably stick to one drinkall night so I can keep my wits to gather clues. Gracie and Aster chat with some of the nearby girls while I look around the room.
It’s not hard to imagine Jay at a party like this. Even if he’s not as wealthy, he’s as attractive as they are. And he seems like the type who belongs anywhere. But one of these people could have hurt him. Maybe.
I’m not the only person of color here—of course I came with Gracie, and I can see at least one other Brown person and even a few Black and East Asian people. But it’s a mostly white crowd. I feel like a bunny at a dog show.
From the other side of the room, Nat scream-laughs, and I turn to see some big guy in shorts and a polo shirt holding her over his shoulder so her butt is next to his face. Another new group of people come in through the double doors and walk around the still-screaming Nat.
“Nat is not what I expected,” Gracie says.
Aster frowns. “Okay. What did you expect?”
Gracie shrugs. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s clear this is a continuation of a conversation they’ve had before.
“Let’s not forget why we’re here,” Gracie says. “Do you see Bailey?”
Aster shakes her head. “She might not be here yet. Should we ask around about Jay?”
I squeeze my drink. Maybe I should have listened to him. Something is telling me that coming to this party was a mistake. But that could just be my anxiety.
“There’s Tamara,” Aster says. “She’s tight with Bailey. She’ll know if she’s here.”
Tamara is with a group of girls and guys near the window. After Aster introduces us, a girl asks Gracie and me if we’re from Toronto. Which, weird question, but okay.
Gracie nods, but I shake my head. “I’m from Alderville,” I say. “It’s on the Bay of Quinte.”
“Oh!” she says, chuckling. “Good. Thought you were international students.”
Tamara rolls her eyes and asks me about Alderville. Apparently, her family has vacationed there several times. She’s pretty, with dark-brown skin and long curls.
After some small talk, and thankfully no more microaggressions, Aster asks Tamara if she knows if Bailey will be here.
Tamara looks around, frowning. “Shewashere. Where’d they all go?”
“A bunch of people went to the wine cellar in the basement,” one of the guys responds.
“Did you need Bailey for something?” Tamara asks. I like Tamara. She doesn’t seem as snobby as the others. But I’m not sure how we’ll answer that question. We can’t exactly say we want to ask her about the secret Instagram account that was stalking a now-missing student.
But Aster appears to be two steps ahead of us. “I think we switched cleats after indoor soccer today.” She smiles at the rest of us. “We do this all the time.”
That leads to a conversation about the indoor soccer dome that Aster plays in and what other sports are held there. Someone, hilariously, laments that it’s too bad they don’t play polo there. Like horse polo.
“No one cares about equestrian sports in this city,” a popped-collar-shirt-wearing guy says. “Now, water polo, on the other hand ... I’m still mourning the end of the last season. Sigh.”
“Dude, one of your playersdisappeared,” another guy says. “Of course it affected the team morale. Have a heart.”
Jay.They’re talking about Jay. Gracie looks at me.
“I barely knew the guy, but it really sucks what happened to Jay,” Aster says, not skipping a beat. “So wild he hasn’t been found yet. You were tight with him, right, Alex?”
Popped Collar nods. “Yeah, from water polo. Jay was mybro. Wicked player. It’s no wonder we couldn’t make it through the semis without him.” He shakes his head. He does look genuinely sad for Jay. “Dude was kind of weird sometimes.” He snorts. “I kept telling himto cut the umbilical cord. But he was cool too. Like a mama’s boy, but also not a mama’s boy.”
“What about all the gossip about him?” I ask. “I heard he was a ...player with girls...”
Alex high-fives one of the other guys. “You mean he was aballer!”
