Our Year in Love and Parties

by Karen Hattrup

  “This place is cool,” Bobby said. “I could never go somewhere this small, but I like it.”

  “I know,” Tucker said. “Me too.”

  “You’re a hundred percent going to Michigan, right?”

  Tucker took a breath. “Like ninety percent. I’m almost totally sure.”

  Bobby stopped to look at a campus map and adjusted their course, leading them down a brick pathway.

  “So . . . are we going to see your dad?”

  Tucker watched kids pouring up the steps that led to the cafeteria, shouting and laughing. Ready for the weekend.

  “I don’t want to go. I don’t think we should go.”

  “It’s up to you. I’m just asking.”

  “Let’s forget it and have fun this weekend. It’s fine.”

  Bobby nodded and changed the subject to baseball, their last season together. Tucker chimed in here and there as they made their way to Erika’s dorm, passing through a tunnel that ran beneath the humanities building. There was a long line of bulletin boards, and Tucker took in the flyers for a cappella concerts, poli-sci seminars, flag football.

  There was a bright pink sheet of paper that said “YES, YES, YES” in enormous letters, and then underneath, in smaller type, “Consent is sexy.”

  There was also a notice about an upcoming meeting of the Social Justice Society, with a note about discussing the campus assault. The news had just come, Tucker knew, that there would be a trial in a couple of months. He and Erika texted about it all the time.

  As the boys were about to emerge from underground and back into the sun, Bobby called over to Tucker.

  “Here comes Erika.”

  He looked up and there she was, jogging toward him in her boots and little leather jacket, with a girl he recognized from her photos as Salma.

  Tucker got a rush, seeing her again, but he was nervous, too. He’d thought a lot about this moment, about how he should say hello . . .

  He didn’t have to do a thing. Erika fell into his arms and hugged him for dear life.

  “How was everything with your dad?” he asked, saying it quietly into her ear.

  “Awkward but not torture, I guess. How’s everything with your dad?”

  Tucker paused, unsure how she was going to interpret the fact that half the reason for this trip was suddenly gone. But then he plunged forward.

  “I don’t think I’m going to go.”

  “I totally get it,” she said. “We can talk about it later.”

  Her breath tickled the skin on his neck, a feeling that made its way down his whole body. She finally released him, and then she went to hug Bobby. At the same time, Salma stepped toward him, introducing herself.

  “C’mon,” he said. “I know who you are.”

  She nodded, pressed her lips together. “Ditto.”

  Now the four of them were standing in a circle. Erika was explaining that Tucker and Bobby would crash two floors up from her, in Salma’s room, since Salma would be staying with her boyfriend, Will, that night.

  “It’s a single,” Salma said, “so my apologies. One of you will be stuck on the crappy air mattress, which is definitely going to deflate.”

  Without discussing it, Bobby and Tucker turned to each other and did Rock, Paper, Scissors. Bobby won, and Tucker cursed under his breath, though even as he did, some part of him wondered if there was a chance he was going to need the air mattress at all.

  Erika shushed the two of them and put her hands up dramatically.

  “Forget sleeping, all right? Who cares about sleeping? We need to start our fairy-tale college weekend that I’ve planned just for you jerks. First, we drop your shit off, then we’ll get you some gross pizza from the only place that delivers to this forsaken wasteland, and then—THEN—we’ll take a boat ride to a stupid, overthought theme party.”

  Erika looked at Tucker expectantly. “Sound good?”

  “Magic,” Tucker said, smiling. “It sounds totally magic.”

  “I fully realize that I look like an asshole,” Will said. “For having a boat. But people buy boats all the time and then don’t want them, so you can get them for practically nothing, especially if you know how to fix them. And the school has a dock, and they rent space super cheap . . .”

  As Salma unlooped the rope that kept them tethered to the shore, Erika grabbed a spot on the two-seater bench closest to the bow. Tucker followed her, settling carefully and quietly into the seat on her left. It had been ages since he’d been on a boat, and already he loved the feeling it was giving him—something about the gentle rocking, the view. He was suddenly looser, freer.

  Erika turned to him, her mouth twitching into a smile.

  “So what do you think of St. B’s?”

  Before he answered, he watched her, backlit by the setting sun.

  “It’s beautiful. I love it. Seriously, I do.”

  She started pointing out things she wanted him to see. The bright collection of boats that belonged to the school’s sailing team. A house on a distant cliff that she fantasized about living in. The crumbling lighthouse that the town and St. B’s were trying to come together to save.

  “So . . . do we ride this home in the dark?” Tucker asked.

  “Oh hell no,” Erika said. “Will doesn’t drink and boat. It’ll be a mile or so walk back to campus, so not too bad. It actually takes way longer on this thing, it’s just a lot prettier. You’ll be on a lake next year, right?”

  “Not right on it or anything, but it’s not that far from campus. I’ll go visit it for sure. Then we can pretend we’re looking toward each other.”

  “Definitely. I’ll wave to you and everything.”

  “I’ll wave back. That will be a great way to make new friends. By being the weird guy who waves at lakes.”

  She laughed and elbowed him. Their shoulders were touching now.

  “Okay!” Will called. “I’m gunning it. Is everybody ready?”

  Salma clapped and cheered. As soon as Bobby took a seat, Will revved the engine. And then they were off, slicing their way into the Bay, flying, flying.

  Away from the shore.

  Away from everything.

  Away, away, away . . .

  Tucker hunched against the cold, taking the spray against his face and laughing at nothing, at just the speed and the sun and the bounce that came as they met each wave. Bump and splash, bump and splash.

  The day no longer felt so mild when they were out there being beaten down by the wind, and Salma opened the trunk and took out a couple blankets. Will and Bobby said they were fine, so she kept one for herself, tossed the other to Erika.

  Erika spread it over her lap and then stretched it out in Tucker’s direction. He slid over as close as he could get, the two of them warming each other under the wool. They passed the lighthouse, both of them looking up at its impossible height and its dying façade, bricks cracked and falling.

  “How long until we get there?” he asked.

  “Not long. Ten minutes. You aren’t seasick, are you?”

  “No, no,” Tucker said. “Not at all. I was kind of hoping it was going to take longer.”

  Erika elbowed him again. “Right? I’m so excited to finally show off this damn boat to somebody.”

  “You still haven’t asked Marissa to come for a weekend?”

  The wind was howling in their ears now, and Erika had to lean her face right next to his so that she could be heard.

  “Not yet. Things are still weird. I mean, we ‘made up’ or whatever, but I feel like we barely ever talk.”

  “That’s why you need to invite her, so she can enjoy the boats and booze. Boats and booze fix everything.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Maybe. And listen—I’m really glad that you’re here. If you’re not going to see your dad or whatever . . . I’m happy you still decided to come.”

  She was looking right at him now, and her eyes were impossibly bright.

  “I’m happy, too,” he said. “I’m happy to see where you live.
And . . . mostly I’m happy to see you.”

  Tucker hadn’t meant to come on quite so strong, certainly not this early, but the sun and the wind and the speed—all of it was making him feel a little reckless.

  They hit a whitecap, and the boat launched high into the air, crashing back down and tossing them together.

  His arms were around her; his lips felt dangerously close to her ear.

  He waited for her to pull away, but she didn’t.

  “Got you,” he said quietly.

  The boat kept flying forward, and he wondered if she’d heard him, or if she was ignoring him maybe—but then she rested her head on his shoulder.

  “Got you, too.”

  26

  Erika

  Will docked the boat near what were known as the Half-Way Houses—a small cluster of rundown townhomes occupied almost entirely by St. B’s upperclassmen, who were desperate to get off the main campus.

  Erika knew they’d be early, since Will wanted to catch the tail end of daylight for the boat ride, so they’d come prepared. They spread the blankets out on the dock and made themselves comfortable while Salma passed out beers from the cooler. She and Will started taking turns telling their most ridiculous college stories, the worst of their drunken shenanigans—some of which now included Erika.

  Listening to them, Erika couldn’t believe she’d been here almost two years, that so much of her time here was gone. She’d wasted some of it—she knew that—but she was so ready to make the most of what she had left.

  Bobby had discovered that Will was a math major, and they were entering some almost-impossible-to-understand discussion about that, while Salma loudly begged them to stop. Tucker seemed like he might be lost in thought, but now Will was handing him another beer and trying to pull him back in.

  “Do you know what you’re going to study? Obviously you don’t have to know, and obviously this is an incredibly boring conversation, so no need to answer.”

  Tucker took a drink of his beer, then put it down and leaned back on his hands.

  “I think I want to do elementary ed.”

  “Oh wow, that’s cool,” Will said. “I remember every single one of my teachers from elementary school. Mrs. Garcia was my favorite—first grade. She was very supportive when I was going through this weird phase where I would rip off my shirt and try to escape over the fence during recess.”

  “What?” Salma said. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “We had just moved for the third time! I was going through some shit.”

  “Uh, that’s fine, but if you were going to run away, why would you want to be half-naked?”

  Bobby broke in with a story about him and Tucker getting in trouble on the playground, and with Will and Salma busy laughing at that, Erika scooted closer to Tucker.

  She poked him in the knee.

  “I didn’t know you wanted to be an elementary school teacher.”

  Tucker was smiling down at his beer, fiddling with the tab.

  “Yeah, I don’t know. It’s something I just started thinking about, but I’ve never actually said it out loud. To anybody.”

  “Really?”

  “I thought I’d give it a try and see how it felt.”

  Erika poked his knee again, more gently this time. “So how did it feel?”

  He quit messing with the can and smiled at her.

  “Good. It felt good.”

  Erika was suddenly so happy. Maybe it was silly, but she got a little flush of pride, knowing that she’d created the moment for him to say something important out loud. Wasn’t this proof, that there was something between them?

  She leaned toward him, took her voice down low.

  “So when I was at my therapy session today, Elisabeth had an idea for me.”

  “What’s the idea?”

  “She wants me to apply to this women’s leadership program? It’s at Smith College, in Massachusetts, this summer. She thinks maybe St. B’s would fund me to go. I would never think to apply for something like that, but if the lady I cry in front of on a regular basis thinks I can do it, then maybe I should give it a shot, right?”

  She looked up, and he was watching her, his eyes wide.

  “That sounds incredible. You’d be perfect for that. It’s . . . is it all summer?”

  “Pretty much, yeah. That part’s not so great.”

  Erika hadn’t really had time to process the whole idea, but hearing Tucker get excited about something had made her want to be excited about something, too. And now here they were, the tips of their shoes touching while the last of the day’s light sank down into the Bay. She’d been so worried about him, about everything with his dad, but now it seemed better not to ask. Why should he go, if he didn’t want to?

  He deserved to have fun this weekend. They both did.

  Erika crawled over to the cooler and grabbed two more cans, then came back and gave one of them to Tucker.

  “So what’s up with this party tonight?” he asked. “We have a pretty good track record, when it comes to parties.”

  Salma leaned over, purposefully invading Tucker’s space and their conversation.

  “Wait, Erika didn’t mention that she’s taking you to prom?”

  “Um, no,” Tucker said, laughing. “She definitely did not.”

  He looked at her, waiting for an explanation, and now Erika was the one fiddling with the tab on her can.

  “Tonight’s this goofy fake prom thing, in three connected houses over there. Like, girls can wear a fancy dress if they want to, and some guys are buying ugly thrift-store suits or whatever. There’s going to be different music in each one. Nineties, Aughts, and Now.”

  “Uh, was I supposed to bring something to wear?” Tucker asked.

  “No, no,” Salma said. “Half the people don’t really participate in this kind of thing. Will is wearing normal clothes.”

  “I guess you’re not participating?” Tucker asked Erika.

  He said it like it was a joke, because right now she had on jeans and a sweater. Embarrassed, Erika shrugged.

  “Salma and I dropped our clothes off yesterday, on our way back from the thrift store. I’m going to change inside.”

  “Oh! I wasn’t messing with you, I swear. I just didn’t know.”

  Erika finished her beer, set the can down carefully, and stared at it.

  “I like dressing up, you know? And I never went to my real prom, since I was kind of a walking PSA. Not the girl to take pictures with in front of your mom.”

  She’d said it lightly, but now Tucker’s eyes were brimming with something she couldn’t quite identify. He broke their mutual gaze, looking over at Salma.

  “My mom loves Erika.”

  Now Erika’s cheeks were flaming, while she mumbled that Tucker was being ridiculous. But it was true, wasn’t it? Every time Erika had been to Tucker’s house over break, Janet had fussed over her.

  Meanwhile, Salma’s eyebrows were sky-high.

  “Perfect, then. We’ll take a picture of you two tonight, and then both your moms will have something for their fridge.”

  Erika’s face had not calmed down. It was still on fire. Her fear of getting close to Tucker—it was still there. But as she drank her beer, as she looked over at the houses and thought about the party, she was starting to get very tired of being so damn cautious.

  27

  Tucker

  Salma said they’d go to the Nineties house first, since it belonged to their friends Grace and Hailey, and since their thrift store bags were waiting there. She and Erika walked in without knocking, entering a room where all the blinds were closed and a cheap strobe light was flashing, streamers and balloons hung haphazardly in a joyful, if half-assed, joke. A bowl of slightly scary-looking punch sat next to boxes of wine.

  Snoop Dogg was playing, and a few people were starting to dance, but most people were just talking, lingering, drinking. Erika went upstairs to get changed, while Tucker and Bobby hung out on the perimeter, takin
g everything in.

  Why did it feel so different from a high school party? It was something about the proudly ratty furniture, the utility and water bills tacked on a board by the door. The whole place had an alien energy, a vibe of both carelessness and ownership. It seemed impossible to Tucker, that this would be his life soon.

  “Do you think this is what it will be like for us next year?” Bobby asked. “Or do you think big schools are totally different?”

  “I don’t know,” Tucker said. “I’m still having trouble picturing it all.”

  Bobby started talking about what his cousin had told him about UVA, but he stopped suddenly, gave Tucker a little punch on the shoulder.

  “You know what I just realized? This is our first college party. We’re at our first college party together.”

  That made Tucker smile. “You’re right! Wow.”

  Just as Tucker was going to add that they should go get another drink, maybe do a toast, Erika walked down the stairs.

  She was wearing a sequined dress. Silver and loose, it hung from her shoulders and stopped at her knees. When she got to the first floor, Grace and Hailey came over to ooh and ahh. She held the skirt out for them to examine, letting their fingers test the material’s shiny intricacy.

  “Okay. Three to one,” Bobby said. “That’s Destiny’s current prediction.”

  “What?”

  Bobby held up his phone. “Destiny’s been requesting updates, on your little situation here. We’re doing odds on whether you’ll actually be staying with me, in Salma’s room. Right now, Destiny says it’s three to one.”

  “You guys are the worst. I’m seriously not eating lunch with you anymore.” Tucker’s eyes flicked over to Erika again. “Wait—three to one in my favor or against?”

  “In your favor, of course. But tell me more about how you and Erika are just friends.”

  Bobby had a smartass look on his face now, and Tucker tried his best to act pissed, but he was having trouble pulling it off. He was kind of delighted that Destiny had so much confidence in him.

  He needed that right now.