Chapter 9
I am wildly underdressed.
That’s the first thought that pops into my mind as the Uber driver snakes up the long driveway.
The entrance is lined with tall cypress trees wrapped in nets of twinkle lights.
I tug down on my strappy sequined camisole and frilly tulle skirt.
The driver takes the final curve slowly, and a gigantic villa comes into view.
It’s a pastel yellow mansion washed in pink lighting, a mansion that could easily be the backdrop for the opening of a Bond film.
Guests in long black ballgowns stand on the steps as they’re handed coupes of champagne from servers in penguin tuxedos.
I’m here, I text. At least, I think I’m here? What is this place? Also, I’m starving! Even the driver is gawking, and with how his eyes keep darting from the villa to me in the rearview, he must be wondering if I gave him the right address.
Perfect. I’ll be right out, Wes responds.
The car crawls to a stop, and the driver gets up to open my door.
I climb out just as Wes appears at the top of the stairs.
He’s wearing a navy suit with a crisp white shirt underneath.
The top three buttons are unbuttoned, and he looks incredibly, devastatingly handsome.
The jacket is snug against his shoulders, and I can’t help but think this could be our chance to get a do-over for prom.
Our chance to rewrite the ending. The grown-up version.
He comes down the steps and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I blush, closing my eyes and inhaling his cologne. “What is this place? This party?”
“I’m not totally sure. Graham’s mom manages the villa owner’s money, I guess? In her hedge fund? Something like that.”
“Ah,” I say, like I know what any of this means.
“Freddy found out the drinks were free, so that kind of sealed the deal.”
“Sounds about right.” I laugh. “Either way, it’s incredible, but you didn’t tell me this was going to be so formal.”
“Honestly, I didn’t know until this morning. I had to run out and buy this.”
“Well, you look a lot better than I do.”
“What are you talking about? You look great.”
“I’m underdressed.”
“Nah. You could show up in a pillowcase and still be the sexiest woman in the room.”
Woman. My heart flutters. To everyone else I’m Soraya, hot mess, walking disaster, girl who had to wear a bolero in prom pictures because her parents thought bare shoulders were too adult, but Wes sees me differently.
“But if you’re worried about it, you can take my jacket.” Wes shrugs off his coat and drapes it over me. I’m swimming inside it, but the oversized look does elevate my outfit, making my sequined top pop. I relax, feeling less out of place.
“Come on, I’ll show you around.” Wes offers up his arm and I take it.
There must be over four hundred people here—the lawn is a mix of partygoers our age and older guests.
A band plays on a raised stage and dozens of speakers are set up around the property.
There is also tons and tons of alcohol. Every twenty feet we pass by a different open bar, with lines at each sitting at least five deep.
We walk past a black and white checkered dance floor, the kind I’ve only seen in magazine photos of celebrity weddings.
A canopy of bistro lights crisscrosses overhead.
The dance floor sits right next to the long rectangular pool, the underwater lighting making the water glow neon.
The villa is perched high on a hill overlooking the Mediterranean, and the sea shimmers under the moon.
We walk up to a cluster of Wes’s friends, who are hanging over the terrace, drinks in hand.
“Hey, Sara,” Freddy says, giving me a half hug.
“Oh. It’s Sora, actually. And hey.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” He throws back his drink and turns to the girl next to him.
Is Freddy rude or just incredibly tipsy? I can’t decide. I turn to Wes, who doesn’t seem to have noticed Freddy’s slip-up. “Any chance we could hit up the food? I’m starving. I haven’t eaten in hours.”
“So I meant to text you back about that. I guess this is more of a cocktail party than a dinner thing? Well, other than the finger food they were passing around…” Wes stands on his tiptoes, looking for anyone still serving appetizers.
“Hmm, those might be mostly gone.” Wes plucks a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing server and hands it to me, grinning.
“Here. Liquid fills your stomach just as much as solid.”
I cringe. I am a tiny bit bothered—couldn’t he have texted that so I could have grabbed something to eat?
After all, he had invited me to a “dinner party,” and I only mentioned how hungry I was a half dozen times.
I take the tiniest sip. I’m all for letting loose, but everyone knows that drinking on an empty stomach is a recipe for disaster.
Wes must pick up on my annoyance. “Actually, hold tight. Let me see what I can find.”
“Okay. Thank you.” I stand there, watching him walk away. On my other side, Freddy tries to chat up a girl—a new one—completely ignoring me.
My phone vibrates. It’s Mari and Anya, along with a flurry of photos: a bottle of prosecco with a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries and tiramisu; Nico pouring the prosecco into champagne flutes; Anya trying to pour the bottle into Nico’s mouth despite his best attempts to refuse.
Nico must manage to escape soon after, because the rest are pictures of Mari and Anya feeding each other chocolate-covered strawberries and tending to the stray cat, who is now getting a bath in our hotel room sink.
I laugh. The bubbles have clearly set in.
Love you both! I text, with a bunch of heart emojis.
Love you too! Hope you’re having fun on your walk! Mari writes back.
I swallow and text Nico because it’s easier than trying to digest the guilt. Grazie! For delivering the treats and being a good sport.
Wes returns with a small plate that holds one cube of cheese, one shrimp, and one almond cookie, and I can’t help but be appreciative. The rations may be meager, but the gesture isn’t. “Thank you, Wes. You didn’t have to scavenge for me.”
“I fought a little old lady for that last shrimp, I’ll have you know.”
“I sure am lucky.” I beam. The nourishment makes me feel instantly better.
It’s not Wes’s fault this party was running low on food.
Not to mention he’s been surrounded by friends.
He was probably just distracted and forgot to let me know it was a formal cocktail party.
I take a lingering sip from my champagne.
We walk around the grounds some, playing a tipsy round of giant lawn chess in the orange grove and sneaking up the front steps to peer through the floor-to-ceiling windows until a chef snaps the curtains closed, sending us tumbling back down laughing hysterically.
We make our way back to the main party, picking up another glass or two of champagne along the way.
But a sadness creeps into my happy. I wish my friends were here. We’d be standing in a corner picking out our favorite dresses and running off to explore every luxurious corner and staging some very cheesy photo ops. I wish this was a memory we could share. I wish I could tell them about it at all.
The lead singer of the band is wearing a floor-length red crystal gown. She sparkles as she sways in place, holding the microphone, belting out a slow, romantic song, and even though I can’t understand the words, I’m swept up in it.
Like he can read my mind, Wes extends a hand. “You’ve always been my favorite dance partner, Sora. Want to take another spin?”
I grin, heart racing. It’s impossible to ignore how heads turn when Wes walks through a crowd.
Even harder to ignore how it feels, being on his arm, because he’s chosen me out of everyone.
We sway to the music, my arms wrapped around his neck and his around my waist. One of his hands is under his jacket that I’m wearing, skirting the top hem of my skirt.
He draws faint lines on my bare skin, back and forth, and it buzzes from his touch.
I tug lightly at the hair at the nape of his neck, and Wes lets out a quiet groan as he rests his chin against my temple.
We’re spinning when fireworks burst over the water.
Suddenly the ocean is a glossy pink and purple and blue.
Trails of smoke fall toward the Mediterranean Sea.
I am dizzy with endorphins. It’s magic and love and lust all wrapped up into one.
This moment, I swear, even Wes feels it.
I gaze up at him. The way he stares back makes me think he’s finally going to kiss me.
“I know the perfect place,” he whispers, hot and breathless in my ear.
“Okay.” And then he’s pulling me toward the gardens. We grab fresh glasses of champagne. My heels crunch atop the pebbled walkways, and I hang on to Wes to keep myself steady.
The immaculately pruned wall of cypress trees is flanked by statues carved out of Carrara marble.
We snake through flower beds and shrubbery until we reach a maze.
Tipsy from the champagne and with almost no food in my stomach, I stumble in, giggling.
Wes keeps touching me, trying to keep me upright, taking me farther into the darkness.
I turn around one corner, then another, and I’m starting to feel dizzy.
I trip on a twig and fall to the ground, taking Wes with me.
We are laughing in a heap, and suddenly it feels like it’s just us at this enormous party.
Wes shifts so his face is hovering over mine. He snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me in close. He slowly tugs his jacket from my shoulder to play with the thin strap of my sequined camisole. “You drive me insane, Soraya. You’re all I think about. It’s not healthy.”
“I could think of way worse diseases,” I tease. He traces the contour of my collarbone, running a finger along it. I feel every skin cell he touches, synapse by synapse.
Wes dips his head to press kisses onto my neck. They start just below my ear and descend downward, edging closer and closer to my breasts. I moan quietly.
I gently pull Wes’s face up. “Kiss me already.”
Wes grins. He leans in slowly. His lips are millimeters from mine when rustling in the bushes jolts us apart. Freddy tumbles out, laughing hysterically.
“Dude.” Wes sits straight up. “What are you doing?”
“I couldn’t find my way, so I decided to just go through all the bushes.” Freddy’s eyes are red and wild.
“How much have you had to drink?” Wes asks him.
“Not going to lie, I lost count.”
“That tracks,” I say, too quiet for anyone to hear.
“Man, let’s get out of here.” Freddy teeters on his feet just as Graham arrives.
“I’ve been trying to find you both. Let’s split, this scene is tired.”
“Well, looks like I got outvoted,” Wes says as we make our way out of the gardens.
Soon we’re near the entrance and he glances down at his watch, then around.
He looks torn, like he’s thinking of staying with me.
He exhales a deep sigh. “I should probably go with them. I don’t trust them to get back by themselves in this state. Are you okay to take an Uber?”
“Oh.” I’m caught off guard. “Yeah. No big deal.”
“Cool.” He stands there for a second, staring at me. Is he about to kiss me in front of everyone? It would be a little awkward, but I’d welcome it in a heartbeat. “Um, sorry to ask, but can I have my jacket back?”
“Oh.” My stomach sinks. “Yeah, sorry.” I shrug it off and hand it to him, shivering.
“You’re the best.” Wes wraps me in a tight hug and kisses the top of my head like a parent would their child. “See you soon.”
“Yeah. See ya.” I watch as Wes and his friends pile into a car and depart, leaving me standing there, and it feels a little like I’m being left on the dance floor in front of the whole school again. A taxi is idling out front and I flag it down, quickly rattling off the address to the B and B.
I climb in, wondering why all of this is so unsettling.
He’s different now, obviously, more responsible.
It’s good of him to look after his friends.
So why doesn’t it feel different? A response from Nico blinks up at me from my phone.
I do my best to read it even though the car feels like it’s spinning.
It was my pleasure. I snuck a plate in the fridge for you too, in case you’re hungry when you get back. My chest warms, for just a second, as I try to ignore the pit in my stomach.