I’d pictured my first date for years, probably since I was ten or eleven. And ever since that time, every time I’d thought of it, Leo had been the guy across the table from me.
The fact that Jake Donavan was in that seat tonight was more than a little disconcerting. Still, if it had to be anyone but Leo, Jake wasn’t a bad second choice. He’d been a good friend of mine since we’d met on the newspaper, and I felt comfortable with him. Maybe a little too comfortable; there wasn’t the same delicious tension and heat I felt when Leo was near me. Which was crazy, considering how long and how well I’d known Leo.
I’d been a little nervous before he picked me up—which wasn’t helped by my mother, who was playing it casual even while I was pretty sure she was taking notes to document ‘Quinn’s First Date’ in my baby book—but all the anxiety evaporated as we drove to the restaurant. Jake was low-key and friendly; he didn’t act any different than he did when we were together in school. I found myself laughing at his jokes and actually enjoying myself.
The pizza place was busy tonight, but not too loud, which I also liked. I’d just finished my second slice, listening to Jake tell me a story about his little brother, when someone called his name.
“Hey! Donavan.” The tall blond guy detached himself from the group of people passing us and paused by Jake’s chair. “How’s it going?”
“Hey, Scott. What’s up?” Jake turned a little in his seat, balling up the paper napkin in one fist. Scott Murray covered some sports for the paper, and from what I’d heard, was the best pitcher our baseball team had. He was that rare person who seemed to be able to straddle two worlds; he was well-liked by just about everyone in the school, both athlete and geek. I didn’t know him well, since he didn’t hang out in the newspaper room very often, but he was a friend of Leo’s, so I was aware of him in that way.
Scott noticed me, and his eyebrows rose a fraction. “Hi, Quinn. You guys having a working dinner? Plotting the next issue?”
“Uh—” Jake glanced at me. “Not really. More like a date.”
“Oh.” Scott sounded so surprised that I wasn’t sure whether I should be confused or offended. Was I considered such an odd choice as a date, or was it that he didn’t expect to see me with Jake? I couldn’t tell. “I didn’t know you guys were together.”
“Yeah, well ... you here with the team?” Jake looked over his shoulder at the table Scott’s friends had taken over, a not-so-subtle hint, I thought, that the other guy needed to move on.
“Ah, yeah, some of us. We’re grabbing something to eat before we go to Anders’ party. You going?”
“Mike Anders? I hadn’t heard about it.”
Scott shrugged. “He found out he got into Penn State, so his parents gave him their credit card and the house for the night.” He shook his head. “Crazy, right? Anyway, everyone’s invited, so you guys should definitely come over.” He knocked on our table. “I’ll let you get back to your food. See you over there, maybe.”
After Scott had moved away, Jake raised his eyebrows at me. “So. You up for that?”
I frowned. “For what? For Mike Anders’ party?” Distaste was clear in my voice. Mike was a football player, one of Leo’s buds, but he was also one of the guys who seemed to take great joy in torturing Nate. He was a year ahead of us, but even back in junior high, Mike used to stalk behind Nate, chanting, “Gimp! Gimp! Gimp!” as they walked down the hallway. Nate ignored Mike, the same way he did everyone who teased him, but I knew he detested him. One of his bigger resentments about Leo these days was that he was still friends with Mike.
“I know.” Jake sighed. “He’s a dick, right? We don’t have to go. I just thought maybe you’d like to hang out with everyone.”
I hesitated. I didn’t really want to go, but at the same time, I didn’t want Jake to think I was a loser who couldn’t handle a party. We were juniors in high school. Partying was supposed to be part of our lives, wasn’t it?
“If you weren’t out with me tonight, would you go?” I took a sip of my water and rested my elbow on the table.
He lifted his shoulders, but the expression on his face told me the truth. Of course he would.
I took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”
Jake’s face brightened as though he couldn’t help it, but when he spoke, his voice was cautious. “Are you sure? We really don’t have to. We can ... I don’t know, go get ice cream or something. Just hang.”
“Full disclosure: I’ve never been to a party. I mean, not one like this. So this is my chance to experience a high school rite of passage, isn’t it? If I’m going to be a journalist, I have to learn to broaden my horizons. I want to go. Really.”
Five minutes inside Mike Anders’ front door, I wasn’t so sure I was ready for this, after all.
The wide foyer opened into a great room, which was wall-to-wall people and blaring music. The door had been propped open when we approached, and the front porch was crowded, too. A couple of guys had greeted Jake with typical shoulder punches and fist bumps, and someone had what had appeared to be a short conversation with him, pointing in a few different directions. Maybe explaining where to find drinks? Food? A reliable fire exit? I wasn’t sure, since whatever he said was lost in the thump-thump-thump of the bass.
“Are you okay?” Jake touched my shoulder and leaned down to speak right into my ear, which was the only way I was going to hear him. “Someone said they’ve got a fire going in the backyard. It’ll be quieter out there.”
I hugged my arms around my ribs. “Yes, please!” I had to yell to be heard.
Jake nodded, jerked his head toward the kitchen and offered me his hand. I hesitated only a second before I took it. When his fingers closed around mine, I waited to feel the same zing I’d experienced when Leo touched me, but it didn’t happen. Jake’s hand was warm, and his grip was firm, but it only felt ... friendly. Comfortable. Like when Nate held my hand.
But still and all, I was grateful for someone to hold onto as we pushed through the throngs of people in the kitchen. Near the table, a group was chanting something as a girl who stood on a chair chugged a bottle of ... was that whiskey? The label looked familiar. The girl, not so much. I wondered if she was from another school.
We finally made it to the back door, and Jake managed to get us both through it. When he closed it again, I heaved a sigh of relief at the relative silence.
Small clumps of people stood on the deck. Some were smoking, and I was pretty sure not all of the cigarettes were straight tobacco. A few of them were making out, although it might’ve been more accurate to say they were hooking up. One girl’s shirt was hiked up so high that it looked more like a scarf. She was wearing a silky purple bra, and I thought distractedly that it was pretty. Another girl was perched on the deck railing while the guy she was kissing stood between her spread legs.
