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"Sure," Grant said, walking over to his computer on the desk in the corner where the music had been coming from. He fiddled around with it and then straightened as a heavier beat started to fill the room. "This is my workout playlist. That should be upbeat enough for you."
Green Day's American Idiot started filling the room. I wasn't sure if this was considered upbeat but it was loud enough to serve my purpose.
The group started talking about Jenny's birthday, which fell on the day before Halloween, so we were planning a combined birthday celebration and Halloween party at our place. We were then ending the night at the East End so that Jenny could finally put her legal age to use. Her birthday conveniently fell on a Saturday, which made the party even easier to plan.
I noticed that Simon and Samantha were no longer in a private conversation and had joined the rest of the group. I let the comforting swell of voices wash over me as I thought about how different this was than high school. I had friends in high school, but I had limited most of my interactions to solely during the school day. I rarely spent time like most high school girls, going to the mall with friends, sleeping over, hanging out at the local diner in large groups. It was easier to just stay at home instead of having to act like my visions weren't starting to unravel me. My father was rarely home, so I had the house to myself.
Isolating myself had served my purpose but it had also been very lonely. But now I had a group of friends that I felt comfortable around, and felt that I could share most of myself with, if not everything. I reminded myself that this was why it was so important to keep Simon at arm's length. Nothing good could come out of us exploring anything beyond friendship because there was no way I could be totally honest with him, especially since Simon himself had been the subject of one of my visions. I consoled myself with the fact that I could still have him as a friend. A wildly attractive and funny friend.
My reverie was broken by a warm hand on mine. Simon grabbed my hand as he fluidly stood up with an easy grace. "Let's dance," he said with a grin. I noticed the music had changed to a slower tune, one I didn't recognize. The song spoke of a lover lost and the emptiness that remained. Grant worked out to this?
I felt alarmed by how much I wanted to dance with Simon. By how thrilling it was for him to be holding my hand. So I did the sensible thing and pulled my hand quickly out of his grasp, laughing nervously. "I'm a terrible dancer," I said, with a weak smile. "Plus I'm exhausted from work."
Samantha seized the opportunity and jumped up, grabbing Simon's hand that I had just released. "I'll dance!" she squealed. "I love to dance!"
Simon looked at me for a second, an expression crossing his face that I didn't understand. He then turned to Samantha with a smile. "I can never refuse a lady's request."
As they walked to the open space in the middle of the living room, Sarah turned to me and rolled her eyes, pointing her index finger into her mouth as if she were gagging.
I laughed and gave her a look of warning in case they saw her motion, but Samantha had her arms around Simon's neck, oblivious to anything else, and Simon's back was to us.
"Come on," Jenny said, grabbing Marcus' hand and pulling him out onto the impromptu dance floor. "Let's show 'em how it's done."
As the two couples swayed to the music and Grant started fiddling with his computer, Sarah moved in closer to me so no one could overhear our conversation.
"I'm not going to say anything because I promised to but-"
I interrupted her. "So don't say anything then," I warned her. Sarah saw the look on my face and wisely decided to drop the subject. As I discreetly watched Simon and Samantha dancing, I decided I was being way too sensitive to Simon's actions. So he was flirting with me. He probably flirted with everyone. That didn't mean he was interested in pursuing anything with me beyond a friendship and casual flirtation. Simon just probably found it entertaining to push my boundaries, thinking I was too straitlaced. Plus, he didn't know anyone in school yet. Once the girls descended upon him, I would fade into the background.
"I forgot to tell you that your dad called me while you were at work," Sarah said, interrupting my somewhat depressing thoughts. "He said you weren't answering your cell phone."
"Crap," I muttered. "My battery died and I forgot to charge it when I got home." My father wasn't a frequent caller, as he usually only called when he was annoyed by something. Then he was relentless in trying to reach me. "Did he say what he wanted?"
"Sorry," Sarah said, grimacing. "He just said he wanted to talk to you. I'm sorry I forgot to tell you earlier. I hope it doesn't make it worse."
Sarah knew that the more impatient my father got when he was trying to reach me, the sharper his tongue became. Sarah had unfortunately been witness to a few of my father's "words of wisdom" because she had come home with me for a few days my freshman year. I had foolishly thought that maybe the distance that college had given my father and I would improve our relationship. I had been mistaken. It had been mortifying to have my father criticize me in front of Sarah and it had made me wonder if he actually did it out of malice, not a misguided notion to help steer me in the right direction in life. But I had convinced myself that wasn't the case.
"Don't worry about it," I said, trying not to show my distress. "I'm sure he's already annoyed that I didn't answer my cell phone. There's nothing to do about it now."
"Do you want to go up and call him now?" Sarah asked, concern on her face. "I'll go with you."
"No," I said, shaking my head as I checked my watch. "He'll just get mad at me for calling him late."
"What?" Sarah said in disbelief, grabbing my wrist and looking at my watch because she wasn't wearing one. "It's barely nine o'clock!"
I rubbed my forehead, trying to soothe the headache that was starting. Even though it wasn't late, my father would latch onto anything to criticize me. We were well versed in these games that we would play. "Let's not talk about it here, Sarah."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Sarah whispered, instantly contrite. "I don't want you to stress out about this now. I just ruined your night."
I gave her a tight smile. "No, you didn't," I replied, trying to reassure her. "Samantha's headlights ruined my night. The image of them is burned in my brain."
Sarah gave a sharp bark of laughter and then clapped her hand over her mouth to stop the sound. I looked up to see if anyone had overheard. Grant was still concentrating on his computer and Marcus and Jenny were laughing and talking as they swayed to the music. I glanced at Simon and Samantha and saw that now Samantha's back was to us and Simon was facing us, his eyes watching me intently. Samantha's face was tilted up to him and I could see from her profile that she was talking to him, but his eyes were fixed on mine. I couldn't read the expression on his face. Concern? Curiosity? Boredom? I quickly shifted my eyes, breaking the contact.
"You know," I started, turning to Sara. I felt the sudden need to put some distance between Simon and I. "I changed my mind. It's probably best to get it over with and call my dad."
Sarah placed her beer on the coffee table and put her hand on my arm. "I'll come with you."
I shook my head. "No, you stay here," I insisted. "I'll come back down. There's no point for you to come too."
