Chapter 3 Mardi Gras
MARDI GRAS
“I’m having a Mardi Gras party,” Clay tells them toward the end of February. “Tuesday night. My parents will be in New Orleans.”
“You sure you want to volunteer for that?” Hannah asks him. “Those parties are notoriously crazy—”
“No they’re not. Think about how many people go out of town for Mardi Gras.
You know, skiing and shit. And then you’ve got the people that go down to New Orleans.
But we’re all staying here, and a lot of prime people are staying here, so why not make something out of it?
Ethan threw a Mardi Gras party when he was a senior and he said it was the best party St. Mary’s had ever seen.
Besides, my house is all the way at the end of that cul-de-sac, so it’s not like we’ll piss off too many neighbors. ”
They trudge through the last few days before Mardi Gras break, swamped with quizzes and tests and essays but buoyant at the thought of the five-day weekend.
The hallways swell with noise on Thursday and Friday as students trade gossip about which krewes are going to have the best floats this year and whether or not it will rain at Spanish Town and whose parents are going to let them drink at the parades.
In Hannah and Wally’s AP Government class on Friday, Mr. Creary actually drops his Expo marker to the floor when a third student is called to the office to check out early for a family ski trip.
“Not sure why I’m even trying,” he mumbles, his droopy eyes roaming to his desk in the back of the classroom, where everyone knows he keeps his Reese’s Pieces stash.
“Y’all do whatever you want. But keep the noise level down, and if Mrs. Shackleford or Mr. Manceau comes around, you’d better look like you’re working on those essay outlines. ”
Father Simon leaves them with a special sign-off message during afternoon announcements on Friday.
“Please remember,” he says, his voice hovering on each syllable, “that while this is a joyous time to celebrate our Louisianan and Catholic heritage, the purpose of Mardi Gras is to prepare for the Lenten season, when we must remember our Lord and His greatest suffering. Remember to conduct yourselves like children of Christ.”
“Wasn’t it Jesus that turned water into whiskey?” Luke asks at the lockers afterward. “So, I mean, we will be acting like children of Christ.”
“It was wine,” Baker laughs, her arms folded as she leans next to Hannah’s locker. “But I guess the point stands.”
“It doesn’t just stand, it dances,” Luke declares.
“Just don’t hook up with Joanie in my pantry again,” Clay tells him.
“Ew,” Hannah says with a shudder.
“Guys, we promised to protect her from that information,” Baker jokes, performatively cupping her hands over Hannah’s ears.
Luke gives Clay a half-assed shove. “Maybe you should worry about your own hookups. Who’s it gonna be this year? Going for Sammy Hebert again?”
“Shut up, man,” Clay laughs, but his face tinges with color and he turns away from them. “Not interested in Sammy.”
Hannah’s curiosity piques, not least because Clay rarely blushes. She slams her locker shut and shoots him a sideways look. “Who are you interested in?”
Clay shakes his head rapidly. “Nothing. No one.”
“Oh, come on,” Hannah teases, looping her arm through his as they walk down the hallway. “Tell your bestie.”
“Tell all your besties!” Luke says with a jab to Clay’s book sack.
“A man is entitled to his inner world,” Clay says, playing along, but there’s a reserve about him that Hannah isn’t used to. “Come on, let’s get some food.”
They meet Joanie and Wally in the parking lot, then pile into Clay’s truck after deciding on chips and queso from Zippy’s.
Wally grabs the passenger seat, Luke and Joanie stretch out in the truck bed, and Hannah and Baker slip into the cab.
While the boys deliberate over music, Hannah shoots Baker a conspiratorial look that means We are definitely discussing this later.
Baker mirrors her expression, clearly trying to hide her smirk.
But an hour later, sitting on the Zippy’s patio in the mild late winter sun, Hannah wishes she hadn’t heard about Clay’s crush at all.
Because while the six of them fight over chips and ball up their straw wrappers and talk about the party on Tuesday, it becomes very clear that Clay keeps talking to Baker with a look in his eyes Hannah has never seen before.
Hannah and Joanie spend the first few days of break hanging out with Wally and Luke while Baker visits her Lebanese grandmother and Clay heads down to New Orleans with his family.
They brave the rain at the local Spanish Town parade so they can catch beads and doubloons from the passing floats, everyone around them wearing hot-pink onesies or tutus or latex, the policemen perched on horseback and little kids watching from atop their dads’ shoulders.
On Sunday they go to Wally’s house to build forts with his little brothers while Ms. Sumner runs errands, and on Monday the four of them help Hannah and Joanie’s dad plant spring flowers in the backyard.
“It was really nice of you to come over,” Hannah tells Wally afterward. “I know my dad’s not the easiest guy to talk to.”
“He’s neat,” Wally says, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. “I like him. We talked a lot about engineering. What he does at work and everything. It’s the most he’s ever talked to me.”
“Yeah, well, he’s pretty shy,” Hannah says, rubbing at the dirt on her forearms.
“That’s not a bad thing,” Wally says. “It just means when he says something to you, you really listen, you know?”
He stares directly at Hannah until she stops scratching her arm and looks up at him. His eyes are intense behind the lenses of his glasses, and Hannah gets the strange feeling, like she sometimes gets around Wally, that he sees her differently than she sees herself.
“I’m really glad I came over,” he says, one corner of his mouth lifting in a smile.
“Yeah,” she says, trying on the skin of the girl he must see when he looks at her. “Me too.”
Hannah and Joanie lie around watching TV on Tuesday, neither one of them having showered yet, both of them rocking messy buns and sweatpants.
Clay finally texts their friend group around five o’clock, asking them to come over and help him set up.
“I get the shower first!” Joanie says, leaping from the couch and sprinting upstairs, and Hannah runs after her, yelling at her that she’d better not spend ten minutes conditioning her hair.
They tell their parents they’re going to Clay’s house to watch a movie. “It’s a really long one,” Joanie says. “Like, longer than Titanic, even, so we won’t be home until late.”
“What’s the movie?” their dad asks, sincerely curious.
Joanie’s mouth hangs open. “I don’t know—some weird one Clay wanted to watch.”
“Text us when you get there,” their mom says. “And no drinking.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Hannah and Joanie chorus, already scooting out the door.
We’re heading over, Hannah texts Baker. Are you there yet?
At Albertson’s getting mixers, Baker writes back. Be there soon. Bringing you a surprise ?.
What’s the surprise? Hannah asks.
Baker replies a minute later. Nope, she writes, don’t even try.
Wally’s and Luke’s cars are already in the driveway when Hannah and Joanie arrive.
They find the three boys in the family room, blasting music as they push furniture against the walls.
Hannah pauses in the hallway when she realizes they haven’t noticed her yet—they’re too engrossed in singing “Like a Prayer” with their full chests.
Joanie bumps into her and opens her mouth to whine, but Hannah pinches her arm and points at the boys.
“Best part,” Clay says, stepping back from the sofa he and Wally are moving. “Listen—this part, right here.”
He starts to jump up and down, belting the lyrics, at the same moment that Wally leans forward and drums his hands on the air.
Luke swoops over to them, singing in a high-pitched voice to match the background choir.
Then all three of them are grabbing each other’s shoulders, putting their whole hearts into the performance, almost like they’re little boys again.
Hannah has to press her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing.
Luke jumps onto the sofa and opens his arms wide, and Clay and Wally go to grab him like they’re going to bodysurf him, but then Luke gives an inadvertent yelp that sends all three of them into peals of laughter.
“Oh my god,” Joanie laughs behind Hannah, and the boys look up from the sofa, all three of them startled.
“So manly,” Joanie says when she realizes she has their attention.
Luke recovers first. “Very manly,” he says, walking over to kiss Joanie hello.
“Do y’all always listen to Madonna like this?” Hannah says.
“No,” Clay says, holding his hands at his waist. He grins sheepishly. “Only sometimes.”
“You surprised us,” Wally says, sliding his glasses back up his nose. “If we’d known you were here, we would have played Tina Turner, too.”
He walks over and hugs Hannah, and she can smell the cologne on his clothes. It’s good, she tells herself, breathing in his scent. It’s good. It’s good.
But then Baker breezes into the house a few minutes later, long brown hair falling over her dress and floral perfume clinging to her skin. She pulls Hannah aside to sneak her a pack of Peanut M&M’s, and Hannah forgets Wally altogether.
When they’ve finished clearing a space in the family room, the real party preparations begin.
For a good thirty minutes, the six of them are lost in the rhythm of breaking up ice bags, filling coolers, stocking cups, and wiping counters.
Luke takes over deejaying since it’s universally agreed that he has the best music taste, and Hannah is the first to crack open a beer when she gets too sweaty from moving chairs.
“Cheers,” she tells her friends. “Who’s having one with me?”
“Me,” Wally says.
“Me,” Luke agrees.