Late to the Party - Kelly Quindlen Page 0,31

you find me a red hat?”

“Get him a green jacket!” Samuel shouted.

I was laughing now, picturing Cliff, with his meaty arms and square chin, as the tiny little Keebler Elf. Before I could stop it, my voice was out of my mouth, joining in on the joke:

“You’ll need pointy ears, too.”

It was like time froze: For a second I was free-falling, bracing for the worst. Then everyone laughed. Ricky beamed at me, and my heart soared.

“All right, all right, Cliff’s turn!” Terrica said.

Cliff cleared his throat. He was smirking, his eyes dancing. “Don’t judge me, but … I’ve hooked up in Samuel’s house.”

“What the fuck, man?” Samuel said.

“Was it with Samuel?” Leo asked, deadpan, and Terrica swatted him.

“That’s at least four of you who have to drink,” Lydia said. She looked at Natalie. “I mean, I’m assuming.”

“Um, yeah,” Natalie said, rounding on Cliff. “You’d better mean with me.”

Cliff laughed and wrapped his arm around her. “Of course I mean with you.”

I looked at the rest of the table, trying to figure out who the two other people were.

“Well, come on, lovebirds,” Cliff said. “Or are you trying to tell me you’ve never hooked up there before?”

He was talking to Samuel and Terrica. They looked at each other, rolled their eyes, and drank.

“Thanks, dickhead,” Samuel said.

“You’re welcome. Anyone else?”

There was a pause. Then Ricky sighed and took a sip of his Dr Pepper.

“Whoa!” the guys shouted. “Hold up, hold up, hold up!”

“Who’d you get with?” Leo asked.

Ricky shook his head. “I’m not saying.”

He was playing it cool—acting like he was the kind of guy who didn’t kiss and tell—but I had an instinct about his answer. He’d told me before that he met Tucker through Samuel, and my guess was Ricky had hooked up with Tucker at Samuel’s house.

“Typical Ricky,” Cliff said, shaking his head. “Won’t trust us with his hookups.”

“My business is my business,” Ricky said.

“Not anymore it’s not,” Terrica said, “’cause it’s your turn.”

The table fell quiet. I watched Ricky, waiting to see what he would say, wondering how deep he would go with his friends. Had he ever offered a hint of his sexuality?

“All right,” he said, clearing his throat. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then gave a slow, careful answer.

“Don’t judge me, but … sometimes, when I’m alone…” He took a breath. “I listen to Nickelback.”

The table exploded with shrieks of laughter.

“Come on, man!” Leo shouted. “There are some things you just don’t say!”

“I know, I know,” Ricky said, burying his face in his hands. “I’ve never been so ashamed.”

It was the first time I’d truly laughed during the game. Nickelback sucking was one of those culture-wide jokes I actually understood, and I knew Ricky well enough by now to appreciate how funny it was that he secretly liked their music.

“And to think,” I said, surprising myself again, “you were totally feeling yourself with Aretha Franklin earlier.”

His friends roared with laughter again, clapping their hands together like my teasing was the best thing they’d ever heard. I could feel my neck flushing, but in the best way.

“So who’s drinking to that?” Terrica said, eyebrows raised.

There was a pause, and then every single one of us took a drink.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” Ricky said, pretending to glower.

It was my turn now. I took a deep breath, my heart rate picking up. I’d been trying to figure out what to say since Terrica had first explained the game. Natalie and Cliff had made me nervous with their confessions of sex dreams and hookups, but Ricky had given me an opening by talking about music.

“Okay,” I said, trying to keep my voice strong, “don’t judge me, but … I used to think that TLC song was about a boy named Jason Waterfalls.”

“Wait, what?” Natalie asked, but I barely heard her over another voice: Lydia had shouted, “What, me too!” at the exact same moment. We locked eyes, and she beamed at me.

“What are y’all talking about?” Cliff asked.

Lydia turned to him, still beaming. “You know that song about chasing waterfalls?”

“I thought they were singing to a guy named Jason Waterfalls,” I said, laughing. “Like, ‘Don’t go, Jason Waterfalls!’”

“Exactly!” Lydia said. “I thought Jason Waterfalls was some really cool, really cute boy, and they were begging him not to leave them.”

“Yeah! I didn’t even realize it was ‘chasing’ until, like, seventh grade,” I said.

“You are the only other person I’ve met who thought that!”

Natalie cut in, spreading her arms between us. “All right, weirdos, take a drink,” she said