Late to the Party - Kelly Quindlen Page 0,57

something out of a shimmering dream. Lydia looked up from the booth she was wiping like my answer was the most important thing she would hear that day.

“We’re gonna camp again,” Natalie went on, “probably just one night…”

I tuned her out. Lydia was smiling expectantly at me, and all I could think about was Lydia in a bathing suit, Lydia sleeping next to me in the tent, Lydia stealing me away for a private moment in the dark …

“So?” Natalie said. “Are you in?”

I didn’t even think twice about it.

“Definitely.” I grinned, and Lydia beamed at me.

* * *

Maritza asked JaKory and me to come over one afternoon, which was unusual, because we rarely hung out at Maritza’s house. Her dad was a big-shot attorney for Coca-Cola, and he had a habit of purchasing expensive gadgets and lavish furniture that he never had the time to enjoy. Her mom, when she wasn’t working for Delta, kept their house impeccably clean and perfect, to the point where it was almost sterile. JaKory had taken to calling it “The Museum,” especially after Maritza’s mom started framing Panamanian art and tagging each piece with the artist’s name and date of completion.

We sat on the pristine white carpet in the living room, close to the fish tank Maritza’s dad had bought last fall. It was a huge basin of a thing, like one of those gigantic tanks you see in a dentist’s office, and it was full of dozens and dozens of tropical fish, swimming past us with bright, colorful movements.

“My mom hates this thing,” Maritza said, watching the tank with a challenging expression on her face. “It creeps her out.”

“Kinda creeps me out, too,” JaKory said. “It’s like a prop for a horror movie. Like a deranged murderer breaks in here, kills one of us, and stuffs our body in that tank.”

“JaKory, in what fucking universe would that ever happen?”

“It could happen.”

I lay back on the carpet, laughing. “’Kory, you have an amazing imagination, but it scares the shit out of me sometimes.”

JaKory shrugged. He had a dopey little smile on his face. “Daveon would get it.”

Maritza sent me a loaded look. I fixed my eyes on JaKory instead.

“Yeah … how’s that going?” I asked casually.

“Unbelievably well,” he said, still with that dopey smile. “We FaceTimed until five in the morning last night. He said he’d told his friends about me, too.”

“Aren’t you worried?” Maritza asked. She hesitated, wrinkling her nose. “You’re getting so invested in this guy, but you’ll never be able to date him for real.”

JaKory death-glared her from a few feet away. “Maritza, I know your opinion on this, but it’s not going to change anything. My heart’s already in this. Either step up and be supportive, or I’ll stop telling you about it at all.”

Maritza clucked her tongue. “I am supportive. I’m just concerned.”

“Stop being concerned. I’m fine. I’m happy.” He leaned against the foot of the couch and crossed his arms like that settled the matter. “Didn’t you wanna tell us something?”

That shut Maritza up. She made a show of adjusting her posture and clearing her throat like she was about to drop something huge on us.

“I think I have a crush on Rona,” she announced.

I peered closely at her: She seemed triumphant and self-conscious at the same time. I held my breath, unsure whether I wanted to hear more.

JaKory frowned. “From dance?”

“Mm-hm,” Maritza hummed, her eyes lighting up. “We’ve been hanging out after camp a lot, like going to Starbucks or back to her place until traffic dies down, and she’s hilarious and energetic and smart and gorgeous, and she, like…” Maritza paused. “I don’t know, I feel like she flirts with me.”

I sat up. “Flirts with you how?” I asked, eager to know for reasons beyond Maritza.

“Like … the other day she told me I had a good ass,” Maritza said, blushing.

JaKory and I looked at each other, our eyebrows raised. Maritza never blushed. “Um…” he said. “Context?”

“We were standing with the other senior coaches, and we were all trying to figure out how to change one of our steps, so I showed them an idea I had, and Rona just kinda interrupted and said something like, ‘Those leggings make your ass look amazing.’”

“She just blurted it out like that?” I asked skeptically.

“Yeah. Very enthusiastically.”

“How did the others react?” JaKory asked.

“Becca just laughed. Vivien seemed annoyed, but what else is new.”

JaKory and I traded looks again, holding eye contact this time. I could see he was