little nuance of every conversation.
“My dad knows people,” Owen says.
“Hey!” Ryan calls from the pool’s belly. “I almost forgot. New rule. No parents at The Hotel.”
Cass looks around in mock confusion. “I don’t see any parents, Ry,” she says.
“You know what I mean. This place is going to be overrun with Riggses pretty soon, and until that happens, I want to be an orphan when I’m here. No parents. No family. None of that bullshit.”
Kiley leaps off the skateboard and does a spin. She lands on the balls of her feet, silent, like a cat. She raises her arms above her head, an easy stretch, and Lulu’s heart throbs and contracts at the idea of Owen and Cass watching her move right now. How beautiful she is; how easy she looks in the length of her body. Lulu has always wanted to be lanky like that, long and lean. It hurts to think about how much thinner she could be, if—if. She doesn’t want to do any of the ugly stuff that would get her there, but that doesn’t stop her from wanting the thinness itself.
“Like you’re a Lost Boy,” Kiley says. “Peter Pan, you know? I played Wendy once, in the musical. They tried to cast me as Tiger Lily, but I rebelled.”
“Racism,” Owen says wisely.
“Racism,” Kiley agrees. Lulu recognizes the tone in her voice, a very slight warning, and it takes her a second to remember from where: When Mr. Winters screened a clip of Birth of a Nation and asked them to debate whether it was appropriate to interact with racist art, or if he should have left it off the syllabus entirely. Kiley sounded exactly as wary as she responded to his questions then as she does talking to Owen now.
“Whatever,” she continues. “The joke was on them. It turned out that director had been doing all sorts of other, um, inappropriate stuff, and my complaint was just the thing that broke the camel’s back, or whatever. He was a full-time creep. Children’s theater is full of ’em.”
“Is that why you quit acting?” Owen asks. “Because of the casting thing?”
Kiley does another spin. “I wasn’t a very good actress,” she says. “And at the time I was super serious about ballet, so it made sense to focus on that.”
Ryan kicks the skateboard up to his hand like he thinks the conversation is done.
“Must have sucked,” Owen says.
“The joke was also on me,” Kiley says. “As it turned out, I hated playing Wendy. The whole play is fucked up, but Wendy’s the worst part. Everybody else gets to be a Lost Boy, and in Neverland Wendy has to be everyone’s mother?”
That’s not really what Owen was asking, Lulu knows, but it’s interesting to see how adept Kiley is at shifting a conversation without seeming to have taken offense. He wasn’t going to change the subject, so she changed it for him.
Under other circumstances, Lulu might be trying to learn her secrets.
Owen hops down into the pool and goes to stand by Kiley’s side. She takes her cue, and butts her head against his shoulder before sliding into his embrace.
“I think we’re all Lost Boys here,” Owen says.
“Lost boys and girls,” Cass adds.
“Lost people,” Lulu chimes in.
“Lost weekends,” Ryan says. “Hey, Owen, when you showed up, you said you brought beer?”
* * *
In fact, Owen brought a six-pack, so Ryan and Lulu and Cass and him have a beer. When Ryan offers Kiley one, like they’re his to offer, Kiley says, “I don’t drink beer.”
“Then why did you bring it?”
“It was Owen’s call.”
Owen says, “I’m the one with the ID.”
Lulu is sort of annoyed that he’s not more annoyed about Kiley hanging out with Ryan—does he really think he doesn’t have anything to worry about with that? Lulu doesn’t like Ryan, but he’s cute, and he’s rich, and he looks like if he saw a sliver of an opening with you, if that was something he wanted, he wouldn’t hesitate to take it.
“I have whiskey in my room,” Ryan offers. “Do you drink that?”
“I do.”
“Okay,” Ryan says.
Kiley grins. “Are you going to go get me some?” she asks.
She sits next to Owen, where he’s spread out a blanket to lie on. He reaches up a lazy arm to pull her down next him. “You’re a very rude guest,” he tells her. “Extremely rude, Kileyrath.”
“Go get it please?” Kiley beams up at Ryan.
“Very rude,” Ryan agrees, but he’s already turning toward The Hotel. “Should I bring cups for everyone?”
“I