“No,” I say, “I mean, like, a housewarming gift. Something to eat. Cheese and crackers?”
“This is why you have us.” Danielle pats my shoulder.
“Should I text him?” I look back down at my phone. What’s the proper protocol for attending a party where you only know one person?
“Let’s just go in,” Ava says, walking purposefully across the lawn and up the front steps. She pulls on the door handle but it doesn’t move. “It’s locked.”
I take a deep breath and type a quick text.
I’m outside
We wait just a moment. There’s a clicking sound as the lock slides over and the door opens, and then Dean is illuminated in the door frame. Tonight’s shirt says SPIELBERG. He’s smiling in a relaxed, easy way, and I can tell he’s been drinking. He looks both surprised and happy to see me.
“You made it!” He brings me into a hug, and I die a little bit at the contact. He holds on a moment too long to be casual, before pulling back and finally noticing the others. “Oh, there are more of you!”
“Yeah, sorry. I brought friends,” I say, feeling my cheeks warm. “I hope that’s okay.” Why didn’t it occur to me to ask?
“Yeah, it’s cool. Come in.” He ushers us into the hallway, where it’s bright and warm. There’s a pile of sneakers by the door and I start taking off my heels, thankful I can finally be rid of them, but Danielle gives me a sharp look and continues down the hall, so I leave them on. It smells faintly like stale beer and marijuana smoke, something earthy and rotten, and as we walk, my heels stick to the floor.
“So I live here with my buddy Cody,” Dean says, turning back to me. “We were in the dorms together freshman year.” He leads us into the living room to where a group of about twenty people are gathered. I realize immediately that we’re wearing the wrong thing. It’s all sweaters, sweatpants, and flannel shirts, like everyone is trying so hard to look like they don’t care. I can see the contempt in their shadowy eyes, pierced lips puckered like something tastes sour. I fold my arms, feeling exposed, wishing I brought a sweater to cover my bare back and shoulders.
“I thought this is what everybody wears at frat parties,” Hannah hisses under her breath. She’s in a crop top too, showing off her toned stomach.
“Yeah, well, this isn’t a frat party, is it?” Danielle hisses back. Dean motions us toward a skinny black guy on the couch, who’s rolling a joint on the cover of a History of Film textbook. He has thick horn-rimmed glasses and a knit beanie.
“Hey, Cody, this is the girl I told you about from work.”
I feel myself flush, pleased to be referred to in such a way. The girl I told you about.
“Hey, dude!” Cody says, nodding his head. Dean motions to the girls behind me.
“And this is . . . well.” He notices Hannah and his eyes brighten. “I know you. You came into the store.”
“Hannah,” she says, giving a little curtsy. Ava plops down on the couch next to Cody, her skirt riding up as she crosses her legs.
“I’m Ava. You’re cute.”
Cody lets out a surprised gust of air, smiling wide to show his teeth.
“Oh, really? I like you.” He looks back at Dean. “I like her.”
Danielle grabs Ava’s arm, pulling her back up off the couch. “Don’t be so obvious. Let’s go get a drink. Dean, right?” Danielle gives Dean a glittery smile. “Do you have anything to drink?” It makes me nervous. She’s the one guys are supposed to stare at. Why would Dean want me if he could have her?
“Yeah, sure,” he says. “Follow me.”
“Hold up!” Cody puts a finger in the air to pause us, then lifts the joint off the table, rolling