the north, you could see where Great Highway curved up and around Point Lobos, culminating in the palatial luminosity of Cliff House. Down below, rocky caves filled with foam, like a fresh bottle of champagne uncorked every few seconds. We weren’t alone on the beach—there were a few couples walking hand in hand, and far away you could see some other fires already blazing—but the vibe was peaceful and desolate. Everyone seemed content to let the crash of waves be the loudest thing on the beach. I brought an armful of kindling back to the circle. Alana and Zelda were digging the pit out with their hands, laughing about something. Back toward the highway, Tyler and Jamie were struggling with a log nearly as big as themselves.
Tyler dropped his end just as I was coming up to help. “This shit’s too big to carry.”
Jamie dropped his end too. “That’s what your mom said.”
In spite of myself, I laughed. Jamie gave me a funny look. “What are you doing, Charlie? Are you laughing?”
“Don’t be a dick, man,” Tyler said.
“But it’s freaky! Anyway, I’m glad he’s here.” He put a sandy hand on my shoulder. “Parker, get real with me. What’s the deal with your girl? You’ve got to be paying her, right?”
I shook my head.
“But there’s no way you’re hitting that.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. Obviously, someone beautiful and cool couldn’t possibly want to be with me. If I were a different kind of person, I would’ve lied just to shut him up. But Zelda wasn’t my girlfriend. Not yet, anyway.
I shook my head again.
“I knew it,” Jamie said. “So you wouldn’t mind if I stepped up.” Another statement. “Good man.” He clapped me hard on the back and headed toward the bonfire-to-be.
It took another ten minutes to round up the rest of the wood. Tyler oversaw the architecture of the thing: a boulder of crumpled-up newspaper, soaked in the contents of a couple of plastic Bic lighters; a Jenga-like structure of medium-size logs, packed in between with kindling; and then a teepee of big logs surrounding the whole thing. Alana did the honors of setting it alight. By the time the rest of the party came sprinting across the sand, the flames were going fierce and wild, shooting off little firework bursts every time a log settled and radiating heavy waves of heat to war against the chill.
Zelda snuck up behind me and pressed something into my hand.
“Hurry,” she whispered. “Finish it before someone else does.”
It was the thousand-dollar bottle of Scotch. I smiled and drank off what was left. Then I took Jamie’s PS Vita from my jacket pocket and tossed it on the fire.
DRINK #7: A MOUTHFUL OF SEAWATER
BY THIS TIME, IT WAS probably a good thing I wasn’t able to speak, because I doubt I could’ve put together a coherent sentence. The world came to me in flashes, like a flip book badly flipped. There was the sunburn heat of the fire on my face, the sand soft when I took my shoes and socks off, smoke in my lungs. I watched Jamie start a conversation with Zelda. He could be an asshole, but he was charming, too, the way a lot of assholes are. I felt drunkenly jealous—not because I thought anything would happen between them, but because now Jamie knew Zelda just as well as I did.
I wandered toward the water, down to where the sand turned wet enough to crunch between your toes. Even in the wan starlight, I could make out the circles that blossomed beneath every footfall. An exuberant wave crashed and sprinted up to burble over my skin. It burned at first, then prickled as hot blood filled the chilled veins.
“What a slimeball,” Zelda said, bringing her pale little feet up close to mine. “He asked me if you were my community service project. I told him we’d been lovers for months. That you’d made me feel things I’d never felt before. That shut him up.”
She smiled the kind of smile that wants a smile back, but I couldn’t quite summon it up.
“Are you all right?”
I got down on my knees, dug my finger into the wet sand.
Who are you?
“You know who I am. I’m Zelda Fitzgerald. I’m a writer and a painter and a dancer. An all-around bon vivant straight out of the Jazz Age.”
Seriously.
She sighed. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
Try me.
“Okay.” Zelda hiked up her dress and knelt down next to