by Olivia Grey
“Where on earth were you?” I asked, meeting her a short distance from the front door.
“I just…uh… went to my car for a minute. Needed to remind my mom that I wouldn’t be home until pretty late.”
“Mothers,” I huffed. “Are you having a good time, at least?”
“Huh?”
I moved closer to her ear and raised my voice a bit louder, “are you having a good time?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Absolutely. That punch is definitely killer. Really tastes like there’s no alcohol in it.”
“Good. Well, I think there’s somebody who’d really like to dance with you. Should I go find him?”
“Jemma,” Frances replied droopily, “I’m not a very good dancer.”
“Hell, look at the crowd. No one will even notice. Shake your booty, bounce your shoulders, you’ll fit right in.”
Frances shook her head, her face picking up a grim expression.
“Whatever. I’ll go find Thomas, you can decide at that point if you want to dance or not. Who knows, maybe he’ll have bigger plans for you, if you know what I mean.”
She didn’t make an effort to mimic my smile and I knew exactly why. Still, I wasn’t going to let up. I needed to stir the pot she was so comfortably sitting in with Axel. They needed a fight- a bit of jealousy- in order to really get things boiling. You never really understand how much you love someone until you realize that there’s a chance you’ll lose them. Though Axel wasn’t exactly protective of me when it came to who I mingled with, I knew it’d be different with Frances, especially since I was the one playing matchmaker. He wouldn’t be able to handle it. But I needed a scene- even a small one. Though Jim offered his photographing skills for free, it still would be a waste to not put them to good use. People needed to see Frances and Axel fight- or at least they needed to notice some tension between them. There needed to be pictures. There needed to be memories. And boy, with all the alcohol in play, those memories will be even more glorious.
On the back porch, Thomas had comfortably seated himself on one of the picnic blankets, in front of, lo and behold, Katie the cutter. I took a deep breath, kicked my heels off and made my way over to them.
It was a lot more peaceful outside and just watching them there, almost seemed romantic. I hated to break up their little love fest, really, but there were things to be done, things that Katie didn’t need to be a part of. As for Katie, I needed to be gentle with her. She already hated me as things were and I don’t know why, but I didn’t feel like having to give her too much attention, or having her run through my party striking a knife against her thigh.
“Just look at the two of you. Who would have thought y’all would ever find each other again.”
“You look great, Jemma. Is that the dress from…” she changed the subject.
“Michael Kors, yes absolutely. I thought I’d treat myself.”
“Well good on you. You deserve it.”
“Anyways, back to what I was saying.”
“We’re not hooking up or anything,” Thomas chimed in. “You know Katie would never take me back.”
Katie did this things with her nose where she scrunched it up like one of those slinkies I remember throwing down stairs when I was a child. A clear sign that she was nervous, embarrassed, uncomfortable. It was her way of blushing. Instead of being normal like the majority of the population, she decided to shy away from reddened cheeks and give herself a pig nose.
“Never say never, Thomas,” she smiled.
“Okay. Well this might be a bad time, but I’m gonna have to ask anyways. Can I borrow Thomas for a minute? I promise to return him.”
“Oh, you don’t have to ask me, Jemma. Thomas is a big boy.”
Thomas lifted himself from the ground and winked at Katie before turning to me.
“Just a minute,” I reassured him.
“Jemma,” Katie called out as we made to walk away, “thanks for the invite. Like really, thank you.”
“No worries,” I said curtly not wanting her to keep me any longer with some conversation about catching up or becoming friends again.
I had bigger fish to fry and Katie, well, she was guppy.
I watched as Thomas killed Frances with small talk. I do say killed because the more he talked, the more she looked like someone was sucking every ounce of life out of her. Her shoulders dropped, her hand rested heavily on the table like she couldn’t stand on her own. And her eyes, those eyes were darting from one exit to the next. Knowing that I could trust Thomas, I just watched while the action unfolded. Axel was tucked away in the corner of the room, sipping on an empty beer to hide his frustration. I laughed as I watched him tip the bottle all the way up to drain it of its nothingness. Missing a beat wasn’t an option for him. He needed to make sure that Frances’ every move was captured by his bulby brown eyes. I couldn’t wait. I felt my heart quicken, my palms dampen with anticipation and it was almost hard to fight doing a damn cartwheel in the middle of the room.
Jim had his fingers properly positioned on his camera and through the screen I could see a clear image of Frances and Thomas- her frustration, his persistence. This guy really knew how to creep a girl out. He wasn’t always a creep though. In fact, he was a pretty nice guy, outside of the fact that he cheated on Katie after they’d been dating for a few months. And no, it had nothing to do with me. Boys will be boys and well… Thomas was just being a boy.
I tapped my feet around a bit and smiled as I watched Thomas place his hand on Frances’ thigh and start to work his way down. She shuffled to the side, attempting to dodge his embrace, but he was right there with his other hand to pick up his action. A whisper in her ear. More persistence and Axel just couldn’t handle it anymore. I felt like I could hear his steps thundering over the speakers as he marched toward them. He said something, she said something, Thomas laughed and Jim started to snap away. Eventually, Thomas walked away, a broad smile on his face and his signature wink in my direction. I kept a straight face, gave a slight nod to show him that he’d done a good job.
32
Frances
Axel was being too obvious; way too obvious. Did he not realize that Jemma could be anywhere in the room watching us, waiting to ruin our lives- whatever that meant. Katie’s words resonated in my head and I thought about the threesome. All Jemma had to do was make one phone call to my mom and my life would be over.
“Calm down,” I begged. ‘He wasn’t doing anything wrong.’
“What do you mean he wasn’t doing anything wrong? I saw the way he was touching you.”
“Yeah, but he was drunk. He had no idea what he was doing.”
“Didn’t you just say that Jemma was gonna try to set the both of you up. That means he knew exactly what he was doing and he had permission to do it.”
“Not from me, he didn’t.” I took a sip of my drink and sighed loudly. “Look, we’ve got to be discrete. We can’t risk her finding out about us.”
“Yes, we can,” Axel said proudly. “In fact, I feel like walking right up to her and telling her that I don’t need her fucking family scholarship anymore. There I was, planning on being nice to the girl, so she wouldn’t have thrown this party for nothing. But you know what, I don’t think I care about ruining it anymore. I really should go tell her.”
“No,” I grabbed at his hand. ‘What do you mean by you don’t need the scholarship.”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jemma’s voice vibrated in my ears. “What have we here?”
I shot Axel a look, warning him not to say anything, hoping he’d comply.
“You tryna set Frances up with Thomas?” he asked coldly.
“Thomas is a great guy,” she chirped. “Frances would have the time of her life being with someone like that. Fun, money, great looks, what more could a girl want?”
“A guy that’s not a jerk. You know what he did to Katie.”
“Yeah, well. Katie kinda had it coming, don’t you think? If you don’t please your man then someone
else will.”
“You’re sick,” Axel spat, turning on his heel and walking away.
I followed each step Jemma made, answered each question she asked and even trips to the bathroom were ones I took with her.
“Just wait by the door,” she’d say and I did.
I waited, scanning the crowd for Axel, wishing things were different but knowing they couldn’t be. When we brushed shoulders with him, I’d pretend I wasn’t sure of who I bumped into. Katie was right, I was afraid of Jemma; so afraid that I chose her over my own comfort. A part of me was certain that wasn’t all there was to it. Sure, I knew that she could hurt me, emotionally which was probably worse than a punch to the face. All she had to do was spill the beans on my sexual encounter- the one she witnessed- and I’d run away a weeping mess. But even that I would be able to live through. After a while, people forget. So what, Frances had sex, next story please. And someone else would be the target of our school’s gossip. What I couldn’t bear, however, was hurting Jemma. I know, it’s strange to think that the most resilient person is the one I’m looking out for. But she did indeed make me. She’s the reason I found the happiness Axel has to share. It’s all her, and even if her intentions weren’t one hundred percent kind, it worked out better than I could’ve hoped. The truth would hurt, and no matter how much Axel thought she needed to have it rip her apart, he was wrong. Jemma had been horrible to us, but she’d been good to us too.
The night progressed with everyone having their fair share of fun, except me. I was anxious, annoyed, overwhelmed. Too much was going on in my head and even with the music, there was no way to tune out the thoughts. Thomas took to another girl, Katie- who I remembered him dating some time ago. I found it awful, to think that not too long ago he was trying to get his way with me. But I guess that’s how guys are, they move on, quickly, without regret or second thought. I hoped things wouldn’t be the same with Axel and me. A part of me didn’t believe they would. There’s a connection that exists between people who are meant to last and I felt like we shared that. Girls in high school are often too concerned with what parts of them a guy is interested in and guys, well, they’re usually only interested in the parts. Mind and body, that’s what I needed, that’s what I had- a guy who didn’t only care about my moves in the bedroom but also about what I was thinking, how I was feeling. It was the hard part of a relationship and quite possibly the most frustrating.
Momentarily, I thought about Ginny, Lola and Preston, my old friends. I’d done a horrible thing by shutting them out and I regretted not being able to share this with them. However, I knew that if things were different- if Jemma and I never happened- there would be nothing to share. I’d be stuck at home, watching the stars, sleeping, being bored. Being here, it was a good trade off, one that had its consequences, but one that was also worth the stories I knew I’d be able to tell.
Jemma’s ‘favorite song’ came on. She looped an arm over my shoulder and hopped up and down to the beat- as did everyone else in the room. This time, including me. I let loose, finally realizing that there was no one judging the moves I made and those who could, were way too intoxicated to try. No one was holding back, the crowd mimicked Miley Cyrus’ lyrics in drunken gabbles.
Together we sang:
So la da di da di, we like to party
Dancing with Miley
Doing whatever we want
This is our house
This is our rules
Together we yelled:
And we can’t stop
And we won’t stop
Can’t you see it’s we who own the night
Can’t you see it we who bout’ that life
And we can’t stop
And we won’t stop
We run things, Things don’t run we
We don't take nothing from nobody
Together we chanted:
It’s our party we can do what we want
It’s our party we can say what we want
It’s our party we can love who we want
We can kiss who we want
We can see who we want
33
Jemma
I patted Frances on the back, “Good girl. Woooo. That was something else, huh?”
“Yeah,” she screamed, punching a fist in the air, accepting her awkwardness, embracing it. Had things not been as complicated as they were, she’d be one of the ones I’d like to see hang around. It’s not often that you find someone who, no matter how much you try to mold them into something else, still hangs on to that purity that makes them truly them. Now was not the time to seek the bittersweet or look for another route. I knew what needed to be done and no matter how much the alcohol insisted on telling me that Frances deserved to be spared, I couldn’t listen. The plan was in place and from where I was standing, it looked like only a matter of hours before its execution would be necessary.
I thought, as I watched Frances tilt her cup and pour the remnants of her drink down her throat. I thought, deep and I thought hard. Her life, it was so simple. Boring enough that even the most trivial things were a rush. After this, after I did what needed to be done, I could have that. I could leave high school and reinvent myself. Not that I wanted to be a nerd, but I could do without all the background noise my current life contained. A group of friends, a lack of interest in what everyone else thought. Free.
WFrances,W I took her hand, “wanna go sit outside for a minute.”
She looked around the room as though asking for someone else’s approval. “Um. Yeah, I guess. Sure.”
The same nervousness she usually had with me. There I was, thinking that she’d changed, that she was stronger.
Frances and I disappeared into the darkness, with only the moon and a small sprinkling of stars providing illumination.
“Beautiful out here, isn’t it?” I said, laying back on the grass.
The fresh air danced around in my lungs, taking away the exhaustion, the frustration.
“It is nice,” Frances agreed, “really nice.”
She followed my lead and dropped back so that her hair floated to the sides and her chin pointed up to the sky.
“Jemma,” she said quietly, almost apologetically, “There’s something I need to tell you.”
I shook my head. “No. Not tonight. Tonight we don’t talk about anything that makes you want to cry. Tonight,” I brushed a hand over her cheek, “we just live.”
“Okay,” Frances breathed. “Okay.”
That was it. The end of the night, the end of me feeling bad about what was to come. Guests scattered like little insects, hissing and chirping, running then pausing. A bunch of high-schoolers with futures they were uncertain of but futures they knew they’d have. There was more, always more. More to be had, more to be, more to want. Tonight was already the past as they went in search of the next rush, the next high. For some, life would treat them well, grant them a fairness they didn’t deserve. Others would know what it meant to struggle, to really fight for what they wanted and still see it slip away into the hands of someone less eligible. But they’d brush it off, find new goals, new mountains to climb. They’d fail again, not realizing that the world is divided into two groups: takers and losers.
The takers, they were the ones who would thrive, the ones who wouldn’t look back to see all the ants they’d trampled over in their quest to get to the top. Horrible people whose reputations weren’t tarnished because they didn’t allow for such things to happen. Every once in a while, an ant- like Axel- would threaten to pull the takers down to their level. The ones who succeeded were only those who would get close enough to that ant to crush it, but never close enough to see eye to eye.
I’d always been a taker, and I loved it that way. Except there was something running through my blood, liquor conscience, perhaps. I couldn’t have that. I didn’t want that. My family, we were strong people, bold people, people with secrets that the less fortunate aren’t privy to because we know how to keep our lips pressed togeth
er and our dirty laundry hidden. When a situation threatened to make us anything less than we were, we didn’t stop until the problem was dissolved. For my family, I had to walk with my head held high, I had to wear a skin of leather that no knife could penetrate. I created the problem and I had to fix it.
Frances hitched a ride home with someone- I didn’t ask who. Undoubtedly, Axel was the one to take her. There were no complaints. I needed the solitude, to think, to push away the regret that kept poking at me. I was strong. I was bold. I wasn’t kind. Kindness is weakness and I was in a game that needed to be won. All that would happen, would be Axel’s fault. It was all him, charming, sweet, conniving him. I’d crafted this thing to perfection- there was not a piece out of place. Letting up would mean giving up and the successful don’t give up. My family does not give up. So, I let them have this night together, to be who they wanted to be; to believe that somehow they’d outsmarted me.
34
Frances
Sneaking around was never my thing but driving drunk was also out of the question. Axel insisted that he was okay to sit behind the wheel and so I let him; I trusted him enough to hold my life in his hands. Jemma hadn’t peeped through the window or made her way to the front door to see us out. I guess all that dancing had really worked all the energy right out of her. If she’d been standing there, I wouldn’t have rubbed my exit with Axel in her face. I would have waited even longer, perhaps called a cab and avoided his company altogether. We’d both done a great job doing that the entire night. Jemma got what she wanted. The perfect party, one last hurrah in her house. I wasn’t convinced that she wouldn’t throw another one. A party after prom? A party after graduation? She wouldn’t resist.
“Did you have a good night?” Axel asked, removing one hand from the steering wheel and placing it on mine.
