Late to the Party - Kelly Quindlen Page 0,96

were hardly any kids there that day, probably because they were being yanked around on last-minute trips for school clothes, binders, and mechanical pencils. There was an old couple I’d never seen before who looked unapologetically pleased about the start of the school year, a group of middle-school boys who had no doubt ditched their moms for one last day of dunking each other’s heads in the deep end, and one family whose toddler was obviously too young for kindergarten. And then there was us.

Maritza and JaKory weren’t there yet, but they were on their way and had promised us snacks and a fruit tray from Publix. Maritza had texted that she was letting JaKory drive her car. He wanted to practice now that he was applying for his license, but there was one major downside Maritza hadn’t anticipated:

Maritza Vargas: He claims the driver gets to control the music, and this punk won’t stop playing emo Troye Sivan songs

For now, it was just the four of us: Ricky, Cliff, Lydia, and me. Ricky had finally told Cliff about his liking boys—and Tucker—and Cliff was making a show of embracing it.

“I always thought Leo DiCaprio was a handsome motherfucker,” he told Ricky, as if they were sizing up football recruits. “I probably wouldn’t say no if he tried to kiss me. I mean, if he tried to go beyond that, I don’t think I’d—”

“Dude,” Ricky said, cutting him off. “You don’t have to go there.”

“I’m just saying, we’re all a little gay, aren’t we?” Cliff asked. “I can see the appeal of Tucker. Dude has some serious throwing arms.”

“Yeah, it’s his ‘throwing arms’ that really do it for me,” Ricky muttered. He rolled his eyes, but I could tell that he loved being able to talk freely in front of his best friend.

“Whatever, bro,” Cliff yawned, lying back in his lounge chair. “Just make sure you don’t go out with any dickheads at UGA. Whatever guys you choose to date, they’d better be able to hang.”

“Aren’t you and Tucker gonna keep dating?” Lydia interrupted, rubbing sunscreen onto my shoulders.

“I don’t know,” Ricky said, biting his lip. “Clemson’s only an hour-and-a-half drive from Athens, but I’m worried we’ll get caught up in our own stuff…”

Lydia turned quiet, rubbing more sunscreen into my neck. She and I hadn’t talked about what would happen when she left for GCSU in ten days’ time.

Maritza and JaKory got there then, and to my surprise, Maritza had brought someone with her. Vivien Chen was prettier than I remembered, or maybe I had just never paid attention to her before. Today, as she walked over to us carrying the fruit tray in her hands, she was smiling generously. She was also, I noticed, wearing one of Maritza’s favorite shirts.

“Does everyone know Vivien?” Maritza asked, trying to play it cool.

Lydia caught my eye. I’d told her everything about the drive to Alabama, including Maritza’s surprising development with Vivien, and she’d quickly become a big fan of “Vivitza,” as she called them. She winked at me and sprung up from our chair to welcome Vivien with a hug. She couldn’t have been any cuter.

It had taken a little while to get to this point. Maritza and JaKory weren’t exactly gunning to be buddy-buddy with my new friends, but they had warmed up to Ricky and Lydia over the last two weeks. Ricky had even come out to them, which was a grander gesture than any I could have expected from him.

The seven of us stayed there all afternoon, swimming and tanning and picking at the snacks. We played Categories in the pool and Never Have I Ever on the lounge chairs. When an ice-cream truck came by, I used my surplus money from Totes-n-Goats to buy ice cream for all of us.

“God bless those dancing-pig cocktail napkins,” Ricky said, taking a bite of his Drumstick cone. “They really came through for you.”

We stayed until we could no longer deny it was dinnertime. Ricky and Cliff left first, clasping each other’s hands by Cliff’s truck. Cliff scooped the rest of us into hugs, even Maritza and JaKory, who startled before they hugged him back. Ricky followed suit with his own round of hugs, and the sight of him squeezing my two best friends made my throat ache in the best way.

“Hope your first day is awesome,” Ricky said as he let me go. “Are you still coming by to paint my portrait afterward?”

“Only if Cliff’s there to talk about gay stuff,”