Betrayal - By Lee Nichols Page 0,47

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“Sucks to be a girl,” he said, smugly.

We plodded through the sand toward the bonfire blazing down the beach.

The thing about Harry’s parties was that all the kids from Thatcher were invited. You never felt like you were crashing, even though his house was bigger than six average mansions combined. Everyone felt welcome, because everyone was there, even the kid who wore the green tracksuit over his uniform. To parties he wore red.

But a party on the beach was something more intimate. A dozen people sat around a fire built in the sand. Rocks and shells lined the pit they’d dug and filled with driftwood. Britta and her friends shared nips from a designer flask, and the guys cracked Rolling Rocks. A joint passed between two linebackers I recognized from watching football practice when Coby was on the team. I was sure they were big fans of mine.

The thing that really stopped me, though? Harry and Sara, sipping from a thermos they handed back and forth. I guess a flask wasn’t big enough.

“Well, this was a bad idea,” I said, backing away from the firelight before anyone noticed me.

Even Natalie paused. “Possibly not one of my best.”

“Cowards,” Lukas muttered.

“Maybe we should just go home,” I said, hopefully.

“They’re only human.” Natalie bit her bottom lip, then turned to Lukas. “Dude, take one for the team. Suck up to Britta, so she doesn’t pick on Emma.”

“And what, you’re gonna flirt with the linebackers?” he said.

She grinned. “If I absolutely must.”

“They’re not half as scary as Britta,” he said.

Still, he obediently went in for the kill. There was something predatory about him as he prowled over and threw himself at Britta’s feet. She made what was clearly a cutting remark, which he answered with what was clearly a joke. One of her friends giggled, and in another minute he had Britta leaning toward him, looking gorgeous in the light of the fire. I pitied him for the terrible sacrifice.

Meanwhile, Natalie spotted Anna and dragged me over to say hi. Anna was the type of girl who grew up to be a soccer mom. Cute and nice, yet very conscious of the social pecking order. She was pleased to see Natalie, not so much me.

I gave her a weak smile, aware of Harry and Sara staring at me across the bonfire. The smoke distorted their unfriendly expressions and gave them a sickly cast despite the warm glow of the fire.

I lowered my head, grabbed a beer from the cooler, and took a seat as far from them as possible, where the firelight faded into dark shadows. I nursed my beer as a dozen more kids arrived at the party, a few of them even sitting with me for a minute. Well, Kylee from Fencing did, and two boys who I’m pretty sure thought I looked desperate for a little attention.

I shivered and watched the ocean swells, checking out Harry and Sara every few minutes; they were getting progressively drunker. Then hammered. Then beyond wasted.

I wanted to leave, but Natalie’s laugh sounded through the night a few times. She lived for parties, she loved dancing and laughing and flirting. She deserved a little uncomplicated fun. Lukas didn’t deserve anything, because he was still flirting with Britta, but I figured I’d give them another hour before I made them leave.

Sitting with my second beer, I watched sparks from the bonfire rise in a swirling column toward the dark sky, then fade away. I hugged myself, wishing Bennett were here to keep me warm. I wondered where he was, if he was missing me. If he felt as lonely as I did without him.

Then I heard Harry’s forceful, cultured voice suddenly rise from the chatter. “No man is an island, entire of itself.”

He took a deep swig and continued speaking, but I couldn’t make out the words. I didn’t have to. I knew the poem by John Donne—I’d read it in English Lit last year. Leave it to Thatcher to have a class drunk who spouts poetry. He turned toward the water and lifted his thermos high and raised his voice, shouting at the ocean until the other kids quieted.

Then he staggered toward the lapping water and despite his drunkenness his voice rang out in the cold evening air:

Any man’s death diminishes me,

Because I am involved in mankind.

And therefore, never send to know

For whom the bell tolls;

It tolls for thee.

He drained his thermos and tossed it into the waves. Then he started shoving through the frigid water