I shake my head, while zipping up my boots.
“Why aren’t they worried about this case of social acceptance you feel the need to catch?”
I roll my eyes, standing up to do the finishing touches on my hair. “They don’t hang out with this crowd. It’s okay to broaden your horizons, hang out with different people now and again. I don’t have to hold your hand or anyone else’s to have a good time. But I would still love it if you came.” I jump in front of the slouched lump of my supposed fun-loving best friend and get on my knees, begging. “Come on, please? It’s going to be a lot of fun. No one is going to force us to do anything we don’t want to do and if we’re together we can watch out for each other. A conscience and a wing-woman all rolled into one.” I pout my lips and bring my hands together in a praying gesture.
Grace’s demeanor softens, even if only slightly. She takes a deep breath, using her entire body to do so, and says, “Fine. Lend me something to wear. I won’t be socially accepted in my Abercrombie sweatshirt and pajama pants.”
We tell my parents we’re going to the movies with a few of the girls from Grace’s school. She tells her parents we’re going bowling with friends from my school. It works.
Chelsea’s living room is already littered with pizza boxes, tossed popcorn, and empty Solo cups. Random people are making out and groping on the couches, in the doorways, in the bathroom. This is more like a scene from Animal House than any high school movie I’ve ever seen.
I scan the room for any familiar faces. There aren’t many and I feel like a total dweeb toting the box of munchkins I thought would be polite to bring. Unnoticed, I place them on top of a cluttered coffee table and take Grace’s hand, walking towards the back of the house.
There’s a funny smell and a lot of noise coming from the backyard. Must be where the real fun is happening. Informer by Snow, and the words no one can decipher, crank out of a mini-boom box on the window sill in the kitchen.
I drag Grace through a pair of sliding doors and onto a wooden patio. It’s only April, and not nearly warm enough, but the in-ground pool is open and overflowing with splashing teenagers. Some fully clothed and some down to almost nothing. Each of them with a red cup in their hand.
There’s a keg in the corner by a shed and in the opposite corner a cloud of smoke. I recognize the smell. I’d be an idiot not to, even though I’d never tried it and wasn’t so sure I wanted to. But something propels me forward...curiosity, intrigue? Whatever it is, I follow the wafting odor, pulling Grace along.
She lets go of my hand, anchoring her legs to the soggy grass around the outer perimeter of the pool. “What are you doing, Mia?”
“I want to say hi to Chelsea. It’s only right to greet the host.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think proper etiquette matters to her or any of those potheads right now. This is why I didn’t want to come. I don’t want to get roped into any of this.” She waves her arms in front of her, indicating the debauchery that’s taking place.
“I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen. Can we just go say hi?” I get closer to her, whispering so no one can hear how lame I must sound.
She shakes her head, her arms criss-crossed against her stomach. “No. You go if you want. I can’t stop you, but I’m staying right here.” She parks herself on a lounge chair and crosses her legs at the ankles.
“Suit yourself,” I practically snarl. So much for my wing-woman. There are a bunch of cute guys over by the cloud of smoke. None of them are Noah, but it wouldn’t hurt to make-out with one of them.
I turn my back on my best friend and march over to Chelsea. Sure enough she’s right in the center of the conspicuous cloud of fragrant smoke, pulling on a tiny white joint. That’s what it’s called right?
She exhales a long, foggy haze and catches my eye. She hands the joint to an unfamiliar face and runs over to me. “Mia! I’m so glad you came! When did you get here?”
I kiss her on the cheek, the new form of greeting these days, and see a kid sucking something out of a very strange apparatus. “Just walked in a few minutes ago. This is quite a party, Chels. I didn’t expect...” What didn’t I expect? This is exactly what I expected! But now, being face to face with it... “so many people. Who are all of them?”
She slings her arm around me, dragging me closer to the center of her deviant crowd, further away from Grace and my comfort zone. “Most of them are my older sister’s friends. Some are seniors from Westmont. There’s one over there who’s been asking about you all night.” She points over to the shed, where Craig Jeffries is doing a keg stand. “You know Craig, right?”