“They’re perfect for each other.”
“Totally. Although she’s usually more into girls. But we’ll see, I guess.” She sighs. “I nix the show option. After last night, I think I’m going to avoid crowded places for a while.”
“Fair enough.”
She shrugs. “Want to just go back to my house?”
Dammit, Zach, you dumbass. Way to bomb the night. I nod, trying to hide my disappointment and pretend I’m super chill with the night ending so early.
* * *
—
We pull up outside her house. Her family lives a few towns over from mine, not that towns really exist in the Valley, which is basically a sprawling suburb over the hill from the city of Los Angeles. I haven’t spent much time over here. I never had a need, or a way of getting here, really. I got my license less than a year ago, and before that it was hard. Gwen and I depended on the school bus a lot. It’s not like our parents were available to take us places.
I put my car in park and plaster on a smile, waiting for the inevitable goodbye with a sinking feeling in my stomach. Instead, she turns with a questioning grin.
“Are you planning to leave the car on while we’re inside?”
“Oh…OH. You want me to come in?” My palms get sweaty, and my heart starts thudding in my chest.
She shrugs. “I mean, it’s only been thirty minutes since you picked me up….You don’t have to, but I thought…” She trails off. “My mom’s already gone out somewhere.” And under her breath, “As usual.”
“Your mom went out?” My voice ends with a squeak. Real smooth.
She rolls her eyes. “Calm down, nerd. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No, I didn’t think…I know! I wasn’t…” SHUT UP, ZACH. God, sometimes I want to throw myself out the closest open window.
She laughs. “It’s fine. C’mon.” She unbuckles her seat belt and swings open the car door. I sit there for a second, trying to get myself together. When I thought about tonight, I never thought we’d end up at her house…alone.
Alone. With May.
Fuck.
But she’s standing there in front of my car waiting for me, so I swallow my nervousness as best I can and get out of the car.
I’m hyperaware of my surroundings in a way I wasn’t when I came to pick her up: The three small palm trees that stand to the side of the driveway where May’s car is parked. The brick path that leads up to the front door, which is painted red, and chipping at the edges. Then I notice May in front of me, the way her hair moves as she walks, and I forget about everything else and follow her inside.
Sure enough, her mom left during the half hour we were gone. May gives me a tour of the house, winding in and out of the downstairs rooms. Everything is neat and tidy, not in the sense that someone picked up recently, more like everything looks pristine and untouched. Like this isn’t a place where living, breathing humans reside. Silver-framed photos hang on the living room walls, full of May and her family posed stiffly, wearing tight, fake smiles. They look professionally shot. In almost all of them, Jordan is standing behind May with his hands on her shoulders. They look so much alike.
May clears her throat and starts to speak. Her voice is so quiet I have to lean in to hear her. “After…the stuff that happened, my parents had this crew of professional…I don’t know what you’d call them…organizers, maybe?…take everything of Jordan’s out of the house. His books…his sheet music…anything that wasn’t in his bedroom the day it happened. They had this crew come in and do a sweep of the house and put it all in storage. Except his room. They left that untouched, like they couldn’t bear to go in there and move anything. And his guitars…” Her eyelids look heavy for a moment, but she blinks, and the moment’s gone. She shakes her head.
She leads me upstairs and stops