“Are you having a good night?” he asks, staring at the fire.
“Yeah. Surprisingly.”
“Why, surprisingly?”
“I don’t like parties.”
“A Hawthorne House party is different, though. You’re welcome to join us here for the rest of the year.”
“Not forever?” I joke.
He shrugs. “I won’t be here next year.”
I tilt my head, watching the flames of the fire. “Right.”
“So, what happened tonight?”
“Hm?” I ask, looking at him.
“You don’t have to answer, but our conversation got cut off earlier.” He puts his hands out. “I noticed that you––” he trails off. “What happened?”
I turn back to the fire, swallowing the dread in my throat. I don’t mind the question. It’s fair, but I didn’t expect him to care.
“I had dinner with my mom. And my brother. And her new boyfriend.”
He takes a moment to think about this.
“And it was good,” I say, nodding. I stare at the flames, thinking about my mom.
“Is that bad?” he asks.
I smile politely, not expecting him to understand. “It’s hard to explain.”
He doesn’t push. He just sits with me. His jaw is tight, and one of his knees is up against his chest. His hand is loose around the bottle on the step between his foot and mine.
The fire pops. In the house, everyone’s singing a song in unison. There’s another bang.
We look at each other.
He stands. “I should make sure Stanley hasn’t broken anything.”
“Yeah. I should find Gianna.”
Inside is loud. I find Gianna in the kitchen, deep in a conversation with Rowan and the girl he’s with. Gianna’s whole face is on. She is going to be in this conversation for a while.
Mara is on the couch. In the last hour, she has become closely intertwined with one of the team's freshmen. He is a tall kid in a hockey hoodie, and her hand is on his thigh. Mara is, by all available data, not coming home tonight.
I want to go home. I’m tired. The good tired. I interrupt Gianna mid-conversation.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “I think I’m gonna head out.”
“Now? It’s not even midnight yet.”
“I’m tired.”
Gianna looks over at Mara. “I don’t think she wants to leave yet either. I know I’m not ready to go.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “Yeah. No. It’s fine. I’ll walk.”
