Our Year in Love and Parties

by Karen Hattrup

Tucker had thought that he and Erika would have the whole summer to see what might happen. If they didn’t, that put a lot more pressure on him to make something out of this weekend, to make something out of tonight. But he could do it, couldn’t he? Already, this whole experiment was going well. He loved being on campus. He loved Erika’s friends, and he loved having Bobby with him, too. He was talking about next year in a way that felt honest, hopeful.

  Tucker looked out at the dance floor, which was now officially rumbling to a start. He was a little surprised to see Erika already in the thick of things with Salma and Grace and Hailey, all of them very dedicated to doing the Macarena.

  He tried not to be too obvious about watching her, but god she was cute when she got like this. And of course she would like to line dance—it was the same side of her that liked Christmas—and he loved seeing her that way, when she could just be silly.

  Wasn’t that what was so great about the two of them? That they brought that out in each other?

  Tucker took stock of himself, trying to figure out if he had it in him right now, to do the Macarena.

  He definitely did not.

  “Hey, look,” Bobby said, grinning. “A big-ass coffee table.”

  Tucker glared at Bobby. “That’s a strong no right now.”

  Bobby snickered, then repeated the words right now.

  28

  Erika

  When the Nineties house became unbearably crowded, they moved to the Aughts house, which belonged to boys and was more dilapidated and less decorated than the last. Erika was already a sweaty mess, but it was one of those nights like a wedding or a real prom where you couldn’t help it, where everyone was a sweaty mess and nobody cared. Erika had only had one drink since the dock, but she was buzzing anyway because tonight was feeling like the pinnacle of all the work she’d done to put herself out there, to make friends, to have fun again.

  Maybe it was a little silly, to describe that as work, but that’s what it had been like, getting to this point. Now “Paper Planes” was playing, and she was dancing like a dork, not caring who was watching, surrounded by girls she cared about and who cared about her.

  “Oh my god,” Hailey said. “Look at the boys, over there by the wall. They’re still in boy mode, where they can’t quite cut loose yet.”

  “Don’t you feel bad for them?” Salma asked. “Being all bottled up like that, putting on an act all the time. What a sad, sad way to live.”

  “Pathetic,” said Grace, who managed to keep dancing while also fixing her hair. “And to be clear, Tucker’s friend is taken? Because I’m not above cradle robbing.”

  Erika scoffed. “Oh my god! Two years is hardly cradle robbing.”

  The defensiveness in her voice was so painfully obvious—all three of the girls turned to look at her, grinning. Then Salma burst out laughing.

  “Shut up,” Erika said. “You’re all the worst, and I wish I never met you.”

  Now they were all cackling, but it was with warmth, with love, and Erika felt the last bit of armor she’d been wearing around them fall off.

  “Fuck, I really like him,” Erika said. “I don’t know what to do. He lives two hours away! He’s in high school! He’s about to leave for freaking Michigan! I haven’t told him about Jacob!”

  “That’s a bit of a hot mess, no doubt,” Salma said. “But so is the two of you pretending like you’re just good buddies.”

  Hailey poked her in the arm. “Look, whatever happens, I totally give you permission to grind on him on the dance floor. I mean, you’re only human. Also, this is slightly drunk me talking, so take my advice at your own risk.”

  “Speaking of being only human,” Grace said, “M. I. A. is on, and I cannot listen to this song without smoking a joint. Who wants to come outside?”

  Salma and Hailey said they were in, but Erika felt too keyed up and said no thanks.

  As the girls walked away, Erika took a breath and headed Tucker’s way.

  “This party isn’t too stupid, is it?”

  “What? No! Erika, this is so great. Seriously.”

  He was still windswept from the boat, and she had an urge to run her hands through his hair. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could hear Marissa’s voice saying the word “yummy.”

  “You’re not dancing,” she said. “So I wanted to make sure you’re having fun.”

  “I am, I am.” Tucker reached out and tugged very gently on her sleeve. “This is nice.”

  She scowled at him. “Don’t make fun of my dress.”

  “Why would I make fun of your dress?”

  “I know it’s a little ridiculous. Sometimes I like to wear ridiculous things. So don’t make fun of me.”

  Very slowly, a smile took over Tucker’s face.

  “Is this about the Christmas tights? I think we had a misunderstanding that night. I really liked the tights.”

  Erika’s heart started going fast-fast-fast. Tucker was watching her, and she knew she needed to say something, but it was too dark, the music was too loud, she was starting to sweat.

  And then “Single Ladies” burst out of the speaker.

  All over the house there was shouting, cheering, to the point that Erika covered her ears with her hands and Tucker followed suit, the two of them looking into each other’s eyes and laughing. Right away, people started rushing the dance floor, and it filled up so fast that everyone had to start dancing wherever they were. Tables were moved, rugs shoved out of the way, heels kicked off. The cheap laminate floor was shaking under their feet, and then someone emerged from the kitchen with a tray of Jell-O shots.

  This was it, right? The moment when the night officially took a turn, when the party-that-was-going-to-be-just-okay got kicked up a notch, and there was no turning back.

  Tucker shifted toward her an inch.

  “I know a good portion of the routine from this video,” he said, “but I don’t really want to explain why.”

  She looked up at him, lips pursed.

  “Frankly, I would only want an explanation if you didn’t know the moves from this video.” She put her hands on her hips and looked at him pointedly. “So where are they?”

  “Where are they?”

  “The moves from this video.”

  Tucker pulled back then, laughing and shaking his head.

  “Uh, I’m not quite there yet.”

  “But it’s my prom, Tucker. MY ONLY PROM.”

  She was sure that would do it, but no. His eyes drifted to a far wall, and he crossed his arms.

  Erika took a step back, feeling embarrassed. Had she read him totally wrong? She mumbled that she needed to find her friends and turned to go, but then he reached out and grabbed her elbow.

  “Erika, hang on! Don’t walk away.”

  She looked up at him, waiting. They were hovering right on the edge, weren’t they? Tucker took a deep breath.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just . . . I used to like dancing—not because I was good at it, but because I liked goofing around or whatever. But then it seemed like girls were always saying it was ‘cute’ or people were laughing at me, I don’t know. I can’t seem to do it anymore.”

  His face was so open right now; it made her chest go tight. She was touched he’d felt comfortable saying that to her, but also he was getting self-conscious. He was in danger of turning back into the kid who didn’t want to be a puppy dog, a Hufflepuff.

  She couldn’t let that happen. Getting him on the dance floor right now was a chivalrous act of duty.

  “Tucker, you know being goofy is the best part about you, not the worst. You know that, right?”

  He didn’t say anything. Erika reached out and tugged on the bottom of his shirt.

  “Look, if we go dance, it won’t be cute. It will be the opposite of cute, like borderline offensive. If there are any baby animals in the vicinity, they’ll die if they look at us.”

  Tucker didn’t say a word, didn’t move a millimeter. A gulf of quiet opened betw
een them, and as Erika was about to collapse on the floor, dead from mortification, he spoke.

  “I need to get a Jell-O shot. And then I’ll come find you.”

  Erika managed to carve out a modicum of space on the dance floor by pushing a much-abused armchair farther into the corner. It wasn’t much room, but they wouldn’t need much, would they? Not the way they were planning on dancing.

  Some part of Erika’s brain was trying to whisper to her, about how getting close to him like this was scary, but screw that part of her brain. A bigger part of her wondered if she had it in her to kiss him in the middle of all these people . . .

  Probably no on that last point. Erika was light-years better than she’d been back at the beginning of the year, but sucking face in the middle of a crowd was still out of her current comfort zone.

  And then someone was right behind her, talking into her ear.

  “Hey, there. You look very sparkly tonight.”

  Erika jumped, even though she knew the voice. Of course she knew the voice.

  She whirled around, eyes wide.

  “Jacob, shit. I mean, hi. I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

  “I didn’t know you were going to be here. How, uh, how’s your weekend going with your friends?”

  He was smiling, but she could still see it all over his face, how much she had hurt his feelings, and all in an instant she felt like an absolute and total piece of garbage.

  What was wrong with her? She’d essentially told Jacob that she was going to be hanging out with people she liked, so he should stay away.

  “It’s good. It’s been nice, so far. Just standard college fun times.”

  Okay, she was clearly unable to form meaningful words. She needed to escape this situation as quickly as possible. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  “Did you finish your Yeats essay?” he asked. “I was sending all my good vibes your way. Fifteen pages is no joke.”

  “Yeah, yeah. It’s done. Must have been the good vibes for sure.”

  Ugh, why was he so nice? Ditching him would be infinitely easier if he would say something dumb or obnoxious. Erika’s eyes were jumping around, both desperate and afraid to find Tucker. She considered a trip to the cooler, to the bathroom, anything. As she was about to make a run for it, “Single Ladies” ended. In its wake, she heard the opening strains of that goddamn Adele song—the impossibly sad one.

  “One dance?” Jacob asked. “Just if you want to. It’s cool if you don’t want to.”

  His hands were in his pockets, he was smiling down at her, and Erika was officially a walking pile of shame. Yes, this thing with Jacob had a shelf life, but he’d been sweet and kind when she’d very much needed sweet and kind, and had she ever told him that? She’d never tried, not even a little.

  “Of course,” Erika said, swallowing hard. “Let’s dance.”

  She moved toward him first, and then they were holding each other—close, but not too close—swaying gently. Erika kept her eyes on the ground, and as she stared at the stained rug and Jacob’s tacky sneakers, she told herself that everything was fine. The night was still in her control, wasn’t it? She and Jacob were having a nice little moment, and he would probably go to one of the other houses any minute. He’d be gone from her life for good in a matter of weeks. There was absolutely no reason for Tucker to know a thing about him.

  Yes, she could have handled all this better, and right this second, things were a bit of a mess, but what could she do? It’s like Hailey said: Erika was only human, only human, only human.

  Adele was ending, and over Jacob’s shoulder Erika could see Salma looking at her, both amused and confused. She was also gesturing to the door, to the next party.

  It was almost time to move on.

  29

  Tucker

  Tucker watched as that guy, whoever he was, let go of Erika. He did it slowly, his hands seeming to linger.

  Tucker told himself to relax, not to be some psycho, possessive creep, staring at her while she had a friendly slow dance with some kid who she probably knew from class or whatever.

  Still, Tucker’s heart was puddled down at his feet.

  When they’d been out of Jell-O shots by the time he’d gotten over there, he’d decided that he didn’t need one, that he could dance without the extra courage. But then Adele had come on, and he’d never gotten a chance.

  Tucker felt a hand on his shoulder. Bobby was standing behind him.

  “Destiny wants updates. She’s dying.”

  Tucker wanted very much to be annoyed, but the truth was, he could use some help. He sighed loudly, waiting for Bobby to get his phone out and his thumbs ready.

  “We literally made a weird promise to dance all over each other, but then she slow-danced with some other guy instead.”

  “Which guy?”

  “The one in the hat.”

  “Whatever—he’s walking away. She’s not even watching him go. It’s all good.”

  And it was, right? Everything was fine, it was going to be fine. Who cared about that guy?

  You need to chill and stop freaking out.

  Bobby’s phone dinged.

  “Destiny’s not worried.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, yeah. She thinks you’re still on track. Now she’s saying nice shit about you . . . Blah, blah, blah—you can read it. This is seriously her worst quality, how much she likes you.”

  Tucker gathered himself, then looked out at the dance floor. Salma and the other girls had returned, and Tucker had to move a little to the left, to get a better view of Erika—her hips swinging, her flushed cheeks and sweaty hair.

  He watched the sequins of her dress, the way they took in and gave back the light.

  “I’m not trying to just make out with her or whatever. I really like her. Way more than I’ve ever liked anybody.”

  Bobby stared at him, then wrote another text. They waited, waited, waited.

  Ping.

  “Destiny says that if you actually tell Erika that, your odds will go through the roof.”

  Tucker took a deep breath.

  “I’m almost ready. I need a few more minutes. Maybe one more beer.”

  Bobby gestured out at the room. “Well, we’ve got plenty of minutes, tons of beer. And music, lots of loud-ass music.”

  Tucker nodded, thinking that, in fact, that last part might be what would officially push them over the edge. A song would come on, and it would have the perfect chords, a magic melody.

  It would remind them how beautiful life could be.

  Finally they made it to the Now house.

  The hour was growing late, but the crowd was still thick. The boy and two girls who lived here had cleared out all the furniture, and they had a better sound system and a keg. On the living room wall was a big Harry Potter poster labeled with the names of which roommate went with which character, and Tucker was thinking how important it was to find people who knew who you were and loved you for it.

  Taylor Swift was playing, and of course that meant Erika was on the dance floor, jumping up and down. Lots of people were jumping up and down—it had reached that point in the evening when everyone was letting go.

  Tucker loved parties.

  He suddenly knew that, in some deep part of his soul. He loved nights that were full of the unknown, all that possibility. He loved music and staying up late and making people laugh. Most of all, he loved having a story to tell the next day.

  Tonight would be a story worth telling, wouldn’t it?

  Maybe he could try talking to her, right here and right now. He should tell her how he felt. Despite the heat and the chaos and the noise, that was the best way.

  Tucker looked back to where he’d seen her, then realized she had left the dance floor and was digging through her purse. She covered her lips in shiny, pink gloss, then ran a finger delicately around them.

  Okay, fuck talking, fuck the best way. Just go.

  Erika started walking toward the dance floor, a
nd Tucker cut in from the other side, dodging his way through the horde. He was following the flash of her dress, and right before he reached her, that song came on—the one that was completely inescapable right now. It played on the radio every hour, in the background of three different commercials. There were endless videos on YouTube of people singing it in their cars, and Tucker had definitely caught Frank humming it the other day while he did the dishes.

  When you see the screen glow—you know.

  I’m checking on you late night,

  Not to fight, thought we might,

  . . . You know.

  As the first verse blasted from the speakers, fake prom hit a whole new level, the dance floor a mass of tangled bodies.

  In the middle of it, Tucker found Erika.

  They stood facing each other. She looked happy but nervous, and Tucker knew that he probably did, too.

  He also knew exactly what to say.

  “So, on the surface, it seems like this would not be an Erika song, but the secret thing that most people don’t understand is that it’s actually such an Erika song.”

  Her hands were on her hips and she was making that face—the one where she was pretending to be pissed when she wasn’t.

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  She nodded. Her foot started to tap.

  “So, it’s possible that I have a running mix right now and this is the first song on it and the last song. Possibly it also shows up once in the middle.”

  He nodded. “Well, I happen to love this song, too. So I’m ready when you are.”

  She ran a hand through her hair, trying to arrange it but just sort of sticking it up in too many directions. A smile was twitching on her lips. “Look, I was being kind of pushy and weird before. About dancing. If you don’t want to, it’s seriously fine.”

  “Is this seriously fine?”

  The coffee table dance—it came back to Tucker like the most natural thing in the world. And as soon as he began, Erika’s face transformed.

  She was all lit up. She was laughing so hard, her head tipped back and then she was grabbing his hand, pulling him to her. They were right on beat, right on rhythm, legs intertwined. And yes, it was a silly, seventh-grade type of dancing, but that felt perfect, and it certainly didn’t change the fact that his arms were wrapped around Erika’s waist, his thighs were touching Erika’s thighs.