Chapter Thirty-Two
Whoever owns this house is so wealthy they might as well be from Hell, in that they’re from a totally different world from what I’m used to.
The house is massive, its sleek modern lines standing out against the night sky. I’m not even sure calling this a house does it justice. It’s a mansion.
“If you like this,” says Zarmenus, “you should see my place in Hell. It’s way better.”
“I bet.”
Zarmenus and I cross a perfectly kept front lawn to reach the doorway. I look up, taking it all in.
“Hey,” says Zarmenus. “Don’t forget, you’re amazing. They’re going to love you.”
That doesn’t help the jittery nerves. It might be more than regular social anxiety or the fear of revealing our fake relationship that’s causing this. These are Zarmenus’s friends, he’s been close to them all semester. I want them to like me.
We go up the steps, and Zarmenus rings the doorbell.
The door opens and a blond guy who looks like he could be an influencer opens it. He’s in a skintight maroon shirt and his teeth are unnaturally white, almost too white to look good.
“Hey,” he says to Zarmenus, offering him a bro handshake, complete with a chest bump.
It solidifies everything I’ve been afraid of. These are not my people.
“And you must be Owen!” he says, offering me another bro handshake. “I’m Adam, Adam Prampin, and yes, my father is Leonard Prampin, try not to fangirl too hard.”
I have legitimately no idea who this is, but I still bob my head.
“That goes for most of the guests,” he says. “I’m sure Zarmenus told you, but these parties are only attended by the most noteworthy Point students. Keep your wits about you, okay?”
I swallow down the urge to say something snarky. I’m sure when he says “noteworthy” what he really means is “rich and well connected.”
“I will.”
“Anyway, it’s so nice to finally meet you. I bet Zarmenus has told you all about me?”
I blink a few times. He has not, in fact, told me anything about Adam Prampin.
“So much,” I say.
“Good things, I hope?”
“The best.”
Adam laughs. “Then I know he’s lying. Come in. Did you tell him about the first time you came here, Zar?”
“I didn’t,” he says.
“He made out with everyone,” he says. “You must have mad game to get him to settle.”
I feel hot under the collar. I knew Zarmenus liked to hook up; I learned that firsthand as an unwilling witness. But is being with me, and just me, out of character for him? Will I need to act different tonight to sell our lie?
“He does,” says Zarmenus as he puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. “Best on campus.”
“That’s only because you haven’t been with me yet.”
Adam winks, then the three of us go down the entrance hall, which is lined with modern art.
I pause a moment to take it all in. Brutalist architecture might not be my absolute favorite, but this place is cool.
The cement-gray walls are lit with small lights, and a few pieces of furniture give the space some color.
The lower level leads out to an infinity pool, where a few dozen people are standing around, drinking.
The pool must be heated, as it’s already crowded with a bunch of gorgeous people in designer swimwear standing in the water to show off their physiques or glamorously lounging on pool toys.
“Is this a frat party?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
“Were you expecting a kegger?” asks Zarmenus.
“Kind of.”
Everyone looks perfect and so adult. This party has a slickness to it unlike any house party I’ve been to. Back in high school they all seemed messy, but in a good way. This one feels more sophisticated, but my gut is still telling me that I’m surrounded by vipers.
“What do you think?” asks Adam. I blink a few times until I realize he’s talking about the house. “My parents had it renovated last year.”
“I love it,” I say. “Nicest house I’ve ever been in, easily.”
“Please, you’re being nice. It’s so ugly, I have no idea what they were thinking.”
A rap song I’ve never heard is playing on the speakers. Okay, this is fine. I’m at a party for millionaires with my demonic roommate. This is totally fine, no reason to panic. I’ve dealt with goats, clearly haunted dolls, and the ghoul that lives in our bathroom. I can handle rich people.
We go to the kitchen. The chemical smell of alcohol is thick.
“Help yourself. Mi casa es su casa,” says Adam, making prayer hands. “Housekeeping will clean everything tomorrow anyway, so let loose!”
He gives Zarmenus a fist bump, then leaves the kitchen.
“I know he’s a lot,” says Zarmenus. “But he’s a good guy, deep down.”
“Is he?”
“Has anyone ever told you can be a little judgy?”
“You’re right,” I say. “I’m sorry. I just haven’t had the best experiences with guys like him. But I’ll try, I promise.”
Clearly people have been taking advantage of the free drinks, and nobody has been cleaning up after themselves, as the benches are wet and the floor is sticky. They’ve even set up a slushie machine, which has two drinks in it: one lime green and one neon orange.
“Adam probably wouldn’t want me telling you this, but he looked you up online,” says Zarmenus. “And he thinks you’re hot.”
“He does?”
“Friendly advice? Gay guys don’t tend to lie about who they’re into. Just take the compliment. Now, what would you like to drink?”
He’s right, and I should be better at just accepting when people say nice things about me.
“I’m curious about the slushie.”
I point at the orange slushie, and Zarmenus fills a cup for me, then hands it over. He pours himself a cup of Coke, then pulls what looks like a potion bottle out of his pocket. He uncorks the lid, and pours some into his drink.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, human alcohol doesn’t work on me, my metabolism burns it off. This is a nightshade potion. It works on me like alcohol works on you. I’d offer you some, but it’d kill you instantly.”
I take a sip of my drink. It tastes like a Fanta slushie, which is a little dangerous. I’ve only been properly drunk a few times, and each time it’s been because I started drinking sweet drinks that tasted good enough that I forgot they were alcoholic until it was too late.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say. “Just anxious.”
“What are you anxious about?”
I take another sip, trying to decide which one to tell him about.
“Giving us away.”
“Can I give you some more advice?” he says. “Relax. It’s a party, it’s supposed to be fun. Nobody will question us unless you give them reason to.”
He’s right. He’s totally right. And he’s right to call me out on what I’m doing. Overthinking things is the easiest way to suck the fun out of anything.
“Okay, I’m relaxed,” I say. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. And hey, if you ever want to leave, let me know, okay?”
With that, we leave the kitchen. The two of us join in on a conversation taking place in the living room.
“I still can’t believe they killed him,” says one of the guys, his voice overly animated. “They chopped his head off!”
“Yeah, years ago,” says one girl. “When everyone else watched it.”
“I’m sorry I’m just catching up now.”
The guy takes a moment in the middle of his story to notice me. He pauses. From the way he’s swaying and the Solo cup in his hand, I would guess he’s already drunk. “Wait, who are you?”
Suddenly the whole group turns to face me.
“I’m Owen.” My voice shakes a little, which I hate. “Zarmenus’s ro—I mean, boyfriend.”
“I’m just messing with you,” he says, laughing at himself. “We know, Zar never shuts up about you.”
Zarmenus puts his arm around me. “Owen, this is Christoph, Annika, Tzuen, and David.”
“Z’s said so many nice things about you we didn’t think you could be real,” explains Annika.
“Truly,” chimes Tzuen. “If you’re anything like he described, you’d have to be perfect.”
“Guys,” says Zarmenus. “Stop embarrassing me in front of my amazing, funny, hot, and smart boyfriend.”
The group laughs. The compliments are so nice. I just wish they were truly coming from Zarmenus, not as part of our act.
“So, Owen,” says Tzuen. “We know what he likes about you, but what do you like about him?”
The room goes quiet. I like a lot about Zarmenus. I really do. But put under pressure like this, I find my mind going blank.
“He’s really sweet,” I say, practically blurting it out. “And he’s funny, too.”
Zarmenus clears his throat. “Please tell them you think I’m hot.”
“Oh, and he’s hot,” I say. “So hot. Have you seen his arms, they’re like…”
I mime my head exploding.
Adam approaches the group. “Owen, could we have a word in private?”
I squeeze my cup, and glance to Zarmenus to try to figure out what’s going on.
“Go,” says Zarmenus. “I’ll be fine.”
“Er, sure,” I say to Adam.
We go outside, to a set of empty deck chairs by the pool. The music is louder out here. Through the glass windows I notice Zarmenus watching me.
“So,” says Adam. “Owen. If there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that my father taught me how to sniff out liars.”
“Okay?”
“He told me the world is full of snakes and the only way to get ahead is to learn how to identify them.”
“Or to have a massive trust fund,” I say, because I can’t help myself.
He laughs darkly, then leans back on his seat, studying me for a moment. “What’s really going on with you and Z?”
“What do you mean?”
He moves closer, close enough that I can tell he’s wearing too much cologne. “Are you seriously telling me that the prince of Hell went from being a party boy, the likes of whom I’ve never seen, to someone out of a rom-com practically overnight? For you? I’m sorry, but I’m not buying it.”
I stare down at my slushie. I wasn’t expecting to be confronted this bluntly, and I don’t know what to say in response.
“What is it, huh? Is he paying you? Is this some kind of PR stunt?”
“No,” I say. “He just likes me.”
The look he gives me shatters my heart into a million pieces. Like it’s an obvious fact that could never, ever happen.
“Dude, come on,” he says, scooting closer. “I already know you’re lying. Just tell me the truth.”
“Excuse me,” I say.