Chapter Thirty-Four #2
She leaves, and only when I go back to bumping hips with the angel and we get to a part in the song where everyone throws their hands in the air do I realize my hands are empty.
She stole my drink!
“Clarity?”
I spin around, almost unable to stop, but Jack Sparrow catches me in her arms. Well, in one arm, because Hannah’s other is holding a cup out of reach so that it doesn’t spill.
“Drink this.”
Gladly.
I take long pulls, the alcohol somehow making water taste like what I imagine being in heaven feels like. It’s brilliant, so brilliant that I finish the entire cup and hand it back to Hannah.
She looks down, not expecting it to be empty, and smiles at me. “Come on, you,” she says, taking my hand.
I follow her, not forgetting to wave goodbye to the angel and Luke as new dancers immediately take my spot on the floor.
In the kitchen, Hannah fills the cup from the sink, going over to the freezer and plopping ice into it before returning it to me. The chilled condensation feels amazing on my hands. What’s even better is the cold water.
“Wow.” Hannah is still smiling, laughing a little too, so that’s good. It’s not a bad wow, but like an impressed wow—maybe?
“Thank you,” I say. Can’t forget good manners. Hopefully good manners will equal more water.
“I’m sorry for ditching you earlier. I just needed a minute,” Hannah says, shifting us away from the sink over to the wall of the kitchen, out of the way of a group of Shadow and Bone characters now ransacking the alcohol stash and the snacks on the table. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good,” I say, calming down a little. I drink more water, taking long swigs and focusing on the crisp, clear taste. “This definitely helps.”
“Good,” she says, though from the way she’s looking at me—like she’s worried or unconvinced—means there’s more.
“What?”
“So, Maurice is here.”
The last person I want to think about right now is Maurice. Tonight went from wonderful to awful in a matter of seconds. And it’s no one’s fault but my own.
“Earth to Clarity, stay with me,” Hannah says jokingly.
“I’m here, I’m here…”
“Come on.” She takes my wrist and leads me out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
She pulls on a door, but it doesn’t open. We move to the next one and Hannah drags me into a dark bedroom.
Kinky.
“Clarity?”
Did I say that out loud?
“What?”
Hannah stares at me, her confusion slowly slipping into a smile. I love her smile. I love her eyes. I love her.
I step into her arms, reach my hand around the back of her neck until my fingers slip into her silky hair, and drown myself in her eyes.
“You’re tipsy, babe,” Hannah whispers back, brushing her nose against mine. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
I sigh. She’s so nice, this moment is so nice. Her arms find their way around my waist and she pulls me closer, and her warmth and her cologne are more intoxicating than the drinks downstairs.
Just as I realize we both have on fake mustaches, she leans in. I match her, our lips pressing firmly together. I’m hyperaware of her hands on my back, of our bodies pressed together, and how there’s a perfectly made bed just two feet away—
“Oh! Sorry, I—”
Light floods the room. I’m too shocked to even compute the fact that I’m in here with Hannah and should probably hide my face if I have any hope of the intruder not realizing it’s me. I look. Hannah looks.
Maurice stares back at us.
“What the…”
“Maurice—” Hannah starts to say, but she gets cut off when he slams the door shut.
I don’t know how many seconds pass, but for a brief moment, I don’t exist. I’m not real, none of this is real, because reality is way too overwhelming.
But reality continues, even when I don’t want it to. And Maurice saw us.
“No, no, no,” I mutter, pulling out of Hannah’s arms. I throw the door open again and run down the hall, barrel down the stairs, and scan the room for him.
“Clarity, where have you been?” Kristen asks, appearing out of the crowd with Serena van der Woodsen and Blair Waldorf (a.k.a. Olivia and Hailey).
“Where’s Vincent?” I ask, figuring that’s where Maurice would go first.
“Clarity.” Hannah comes up behind me.
“Hannah,” Hailey coos, sounding a little tipsy herself.
“I need to talk to you,” I tell Kristen, grabbing her hand.
I drag her along with me out to the back porch.
I’m kind of hoping we find Maurice and Vincent out there, but I’m simultaneously relieved when we don’t.
I don’t even know what I’m going to say.
Kristen follows me past the small group lounging on the patio furniture as I beeline for the empty trampoline in the middle of the yard.
“Clarity, what’s going on?” she asks, her breath visible in the cold.
I open my mouth to say the words and stop short, my heart racing with the truth of them. “Maurice knows—he just walked in on me and Hannah.”
Kristen’s eyes go wide. I was holding on to a shred of hope that this isn’t as big a deal as I imagine, but when her jaw drops, I know this is bad.
“Well,” she says, turning to scan the yard like we might find them out here after all. “I mean…”
“He’s going to tell Vincent and the secret will spread and it’s going to get back to my parents and they’re going to hate me and I’m so screwed!” By the end, I can hardly take a full breath.
It’s going to be Camp Refuge all over again.
Kristen nods, taking deep breaths and prompting me to do the same.
“You are going to be okay, okay? We’re going to go in there and find them and—he might not tell anyone, Clarity.” She snaps her fingers at the realization, but her forced smile doesn’t convince me.
“Kris…”
“Look, I’m just saying let’s see if there’s any damage before we have a full freak-out.”
“Okay.” We nod together, agreeing to hold off on spinning out, and head inside.
The kitchen is nearly empty, the last few people—dressed as characters from Riverdale—filing into the living room.
Kristen and I trail after them and end up thrust into a packed jumble of bodies, jumping and dancing to “After Hours” by Kehlani.
Hannah is on the edge of the crowd, swaying stiffly.
Rowena, Hailey, and some of her other teammates are going hard though.
“Over there,” Kristen says, swatting my shoulder.
I follow her gaze in time to see Maurice opening the front door, Vincent close behind.
“Are they leaving?” I ask.
“No way,” Kristen says, taking my hand and pulling us toward the door.
We pass Hannah and her teammates. The girls reach for us, trying to pull us into their dance circle, but Hannah moves around them to catch up to us. I shout over the music that we’ll be back and hold on to the shred of calm the sight of her brings me before we push our way outside.
Kristen shuts the door behind us, killing the noise and leaving us standing alone in the cold and dark. The boys are at the end of the walkway, talking quietly until they notice us.
“Vinny, are you leaving?” Kristen asks, staying next to me.
“We’re just talking,” Vincent says, though he cuts himself off when Maurice whispers something to him. “But we’re going to leave soon, catch a ride or something.”
“Do you want me to call an Uber?” Kristen asks. Vincent glances from her to me and back to her. I look at Maurice. He’s already looking at me, but I can barely make out his face in the dark.
“We’re just going to head home, have a boy’s night,” he says. “I’ll text you.”
The way he says “boy’s night” hits my ears wrong. He’s making a point.
“He’s really…” Kristen watches them walk off until they disappear around a curve in the sidewalk behind some cars.
“Do you think—?”
“Clarity, I don’t know. All I know is that my boyfriend just blew me off,” she huffs before turning around and going inside.