Late to the Party - Kelly Quindlen Page 0,43

Saylor, who tried to pull her thong off while we stood there talking.

I barely saw Ricky during any of this, but when I was out in the garage, getting more beer, Tucker stepped out behind me. He stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, scuffing his shoe into the floor. I waited, the cold beer cans pressing against my shirt.

“Codi,” he said, clearing his throat.

I nodded at him. “Hi, Tucker.”

He kept standing there, scuffing his shoe harder, and I could physically feel how uncomfortable he was.

“I like your Hawaiian shirt,” I said, my voice carrying across the garage.

He looked up at me. It was almost like he was checking to see if I was serious.

“Really.” I shrugged, unable to believe this popular athlete thought I was making fun of him. “It’s a good shirt. It’s fun.”

He cleared his throat again. “Thanks. I found it in my dad’s Goodwill pile. Thought it would get some laughs.”

There was a beat of awkward silence where he just stood there looking at me.

“Look, Tucker—” I began.

“No, hold on,” he said, going still. “Please, let me try this.”

“Okay.”

“I didn’t mean to follow you, but, uh … I just wanted to apologize for freaking out on you a few weeks ago. I was worried you would tell someone what you saw, but he—um, Ricky—says you haven’t done that.”

“No, I haven’t,” I said, watching his anxious face. “And I won’t.”

“Thanks. It’s not that I’m embarrassed or whatever, but—it’s just that it’s no one else’s business, right? I’m still trying to figure things out, and I don’t want other people making judgments.”

The beer cans were too cold; I set them on the floor and rubbed my hands into my shirt, trying to warm them. “Ricky told me you’re the best baseball player our school has.”

“He said that?”

“Yeah.”

Tucker bit his lip. “Ricky exaggerates, I think.”

I met his eyes. “No, I don’t think so.”

He gave me a pained half smile. Then he took a few steps forward and plucked the beer cans off the floor. “Who are these for? I’ll carry them.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Nah, I’m happy to. I need to look like I came out here for a reason, anyway.” He took a step toward the door and then turned back to face me. “Listen, Codi … if things don’t pan out with Ricky and me, please don’t hold it against me, okay?”

And on that cryptic note, he opened the door and led me back into the house.

* * *

The party started winding down, and it was a damn good thing, because I was drunk. From what I could tell, everyone else was, too. We were sprawled out on the family room floor again, this time playing a girls-only round of King’s Cup while Cliff, Leo, and Samuel snored on the couches behind us.

Lydia was stretched out next to me, her thigh occasionally brushing against mine, my skin buzzing wherever she touched it. Her hair kept falling over her face, and every time she pushed it back, I wondered what it would be like to kiss her.

“New rule,” Lydia said, flinging down a king of spades. “Everyone has to be addressed as ‘bro’ instead of their name.”

“Why, bro?” Natalie slurred.

“Because, bro, I declared it.” She pointed at Terrica. “You’re up, bro.”

“Bro, thank you,” Terrica said, slumping toward the card pile.

Our voices got deeper and deeper the more we said “bro,” and it was stupid, but we were giddy and drunk and having a good time. Lydia was laughing harder than anyone. “Your turn, Codi,” she said, bumping my elbow.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Terrica said, pointing at her. “Take a drink, bro. You said her name.”

“What? Shit. Sorry, bro.” She looped an arm around my shoulders, and my whole belly swooped. She was mere inches from my face, and I could see her lips so clearly.

“No sweat, bro,” I said, leaning into her arm.

A few minutes later, I glanced into the kitchen and saw a girl standing very close to Tucker. I hadn’t seen her until now, but she was hard to miss: She kept grabbing Tucker’s arm and sweeping her hair back as she laughed.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

The other three looked up lazily. “Oh, that’s Bianca,” Natalie said. She burped without seeming to notice, then lowered her voice conspiratorially. “She and Tucker kinda have a thing.”

They resumed the card game, but I was only half paying attention. I had just noticed Ricky standing in the corner of the kitchen, not far from Tucker and Bianca. His whole