him scowling. I tug him down so I can whisper in his ear, “I love you.”
“You’re better than anyone here,” he mutters, nearly snarling.
“Can you show me the food?” I ask and stroke his clenched jaw. “We can try a little of everything. I might find new foods to like.”
Anders’s icy blue eyes warm, and he stands up straight. “The caterers are usually good. Let’s see what they made.”
I share a little smile with Topanga before walking with Anders to the table. He fills a plate with a spoonful from every tray. Then he takes a bite before giving me one. I feel as if he’s proving to me that the food is safe.
Ignoring the people in the room, I see only Anders. They feel like enemies. Do they normally treat Anders well? I know they hate me, but he’s one of them. Why do I sense they don’t like him much more than they do me?
No, that’s probably me feeding my monster. Bronco and Lowell wave over Anders once we have food. Topanga offers me a glass of wine. Lana seems as nervous as I am. Not everyone is hostile.
Over the next hour, I eat and drink too much. Music plays from the overhead speakers. Though I like some songs and want to dance, Anders doesn’t move once he’s found his spot near Bronco. Is this how he behaves at all the community parties?
“Have you tried the dumplings?” Topanga asks when I inch behind Anders as if to hide once the music gets louder.
I don’t know what my answer is, but then there’s more food in front of me.
“You shouldn’t drink wine,” Anders says when I finish a second glass.
“Can I drink what you’re drinking?” I ask, but he frowns darker and doesn’t answer.
Anders gets more agitated after Barbie appears to tell him that he’s too old for me. Bronco orders his sister to “lay off” and to stop causing trouble. Before she can reply, Conor claims he wants to marry a woman three times his age. This gets his mother so agitated that they go outside to discuss his stupid dreams.
As soon as I swallow the second dumpling, I know I’ve made a mistake. My stomach sends a painful signal to my brain, forcing me to the restroom.
Soon, I hide in the stall, where I can still hear the music. However, this area is quieter, and my stomach stops rolling.
Years ago, when we first arrived at the Village, people frowned at us a lot. My heart hurt most days from missing Papa and the Collective. But I pretended to be strong. For Mama, I never cried. Dove did a lot, though. She was afraid of our new home. The Volkshalberd called her weak, and I would stand up to them.
Tonight, I don’t have Dove to protect. Anders seems unhappy with his friends and me. I don’t know why I’m here. Topanga said the club men and their “honeys” wanted to meet me. Yet, none of them smiled in a real way. I started to feel as if I was only here so the other people could make me feel like an outsider.
Well, okay, then! I’m a Dandelion. I’ve been an outsider for years. First at the Village and now here. I don’t care if they hate me. I don’t like them either!
I love Anders, though. Does he care if they hate me? Or if I hate them?
Tonight, Anders seems far away like when he wouldn’t visit for days. I never knew if I would see him. Would he find someone else to talk to? Why was he visiting me at all? What was the world like where he lived? How could he fit in my life?
Now, he’s just outside this room, talking with his friends, but he feels out of reach. My family exists in a different universe. My head spins, and my heart gets heavy. I wish I could leave this clubhouse and return to Anders’s home.
I’m startled when the door leading back to the party opens. I remain very still. Unsure why I’m afraid, I ought to walk out and wash my hands. Hiding shows I’m intimidated by them.
“Stupid-ass Village trash eating like a pig and stinking up the place with her hairy pits,” DeAnna says, now standing in front of the mirror.
I know the voice belongs to her after I peek through the crack in the door. She checks her made-up face and tilts her head to admire her hair.