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I looked around the yard, smoothing my skirt. I didn't know anyone at the party, and honestly, I was a little nervous. Everyone here was older than me. I was eighteen, and a senior in high school. There were people here who looked like they were in their mid-twenties, or even older. Some of them looked old enough that they probably weren't even students. Maybe they had just come for the party.
It was a bit chilly outside, and I hadn't brought a jacket. I was wearing a slinky, low-cut dress, and I didn't want to hide it under a baggy jacket. I went inside where it was warmer, weaving between chatting groups of people. Most of them had red Solo cups in their hands, and the smell of beer filled the air. I'd never tried beer before, but I made my way towards the kegs anyway. A greasy-looking guy with a stringy black beard filled me a cup, smiling as he handed it to me. I thanked him and took a sip, wincing at the bitter taste.
I slowly nursed the beer, trying to get used to the taste. I looked around for someone to talk to, maybe someone to dance with, but I was feeling too shy and overwhelmed with so many people there. I ended up tucked away in a corner, feeling like a fool. I was more used to hanging out with my high school friends. There was always someone around who knew my name, who I knew I could talk to and be comfortable with. But here, I didn't know anyone, and I felt completely out of place.
I was still standing alone in the corner when a familiar voice called out to me. “Ami? Is that you?”
I looked up and saw Cameron walking towards me. He was one of my brother's best friends. They'd known each other since kindergarten, and the two of them had always been close. I remembered seeing them playing with their G.I. Joes in our backyard when we were little. Then, when they were teenagers, they would play street hockey with the other kids on our block. I used to sit on the porch and watch them play, too shy and uncoordinated to ask to join in myself, but always cheering them on from the sidelines.
“Hey, Cam,” I said, giving him an awkward smile. He stepped over to me, and I moved to greet him with a hug, only to end up bumping into a girl dancing next to me. My drink sloshed over the rim of my cup, spilling on Cameron's shoes.
“Oh! Damn. Sorry!” I fumbled to keep my drink steady, looking around for something to clean up the spill with.
“It's okay,” Cameron said, laughing. He had a cute smile, and his face lit up when he laughed. “Don't worry about it.”
“No, your shoes.” I crouched down in front of him. “God, they're ruined.” I pulled my sleeve over my hand, using the fabric to sop up the beer on his shoes.
“Hey, no worries.” Cameron reached down, taking my hand and guiding me back to my feet. He looked into my eyes as he steadied me. “It's just a little beer. Nothing to cry over.”
I let out a nervous laugh, looking away. I buried my face in my drink to hide my embarrassment.
“I didn't know you'd be here,” Cameron said. “I'm glad you are, though.”
“Really?” I looked up at him, my eyes widening. I hadn't seen Cameron since he moved out of his parents' house to live in the college dorms. He used to live right up the street from us, and he was over at our house so often that it had almost been like he was a part of the family. That had all changed when he went off to school. It wasn't that far of a drive to the school—my brother commuted, to save money on room and board—but it was still a big change when someone who had lived in the same neighborhood as me since we were children suddenly moved to another town. I never would have expected Cameron to give me a second thought, though. I'd always assumed he had only seen me as his friend's nerdy little sister.
“Yes, really,” he said, pulling me in for a hug now that the danger of more spilled drinks had passed. “I missed you. It's been too long.”
I let out a nervous laugh, looking down at my shoes. It had been a long time since I'd seen Cameron. Somehow, he didn't seem like the same awkward teenager who'd skinned his knees playing hockey outside my house. He was tall and well-built, the outline of his muscles showing against the fabric of his t-shirt. I wondered if he'd been working out at the school gym...
I fumbled for words. A long silence drew out between us, and I expected Cameron to make his excuses and walk away. Searching for something to say, I asked him, “Are you, umm, here with your friends? Or your girlfriend?”
