Chapter Ten
The only thing accurate about the homecoming theme of Night in Paris is the giant, glowing Eiffel Tower replica. Besides that, every other decoration is something out of an idealistic version of France, along with an assortment of pastries and strung fairy lights.
My hand lands on Genevieve”s lower back as we enter the dance.
She smacks it away. “Do you mind?”
“Sorry.”
Logan has already found a baguette and is asking me if I feel at home yet. Every time, I answer no and remind him I am from London, not France.
Obviously, this Paris isn’t realistic, but nobody wants the theme of a dance to be the real Paris, which is littered with pick-pocketers and tourists.
If they had wanted the theme of Night in Paris to be accurately portrayed, they would have done the smart thing and asked for my help. But they didn’t because they wanted the fanciful Paris.
Not much happens in the first bit of the dance, because soon after we arrive, Genevieve is nowhere to be found. She had darted off with Winnifred soon after we got inside.
And while Logan looked disappointed, I didn’t mind. If she doesn’t want to hang out with me at a cliche school dance, so be it.
“Where did the girls go?” Luke asks.
I shrug. “No idea.”
“Well, they’ve got to be somewhere. We should find them,” he says.
I’m shocked Luke is the most concerned out of the three of us about where the girls are, considering his date is less interested in him than Genevieve is me.
“They’ll find us when they’re ready,” Logan says, leaning back against the wall.
“When they’re ready?” I scoff. “Logan, our dates don’t like us like yours does you.”
“I say we find them ourselves,” Luke adds.
So, we do, and not long after we start our search, Luke, Logan, and I find the three girls a giggling mess in the courtyard.
Well, Eloise and Winnifred are giggling. Genevieve looks as if she’s there to supervise.
“What the fuck.” Luke looks around, like he’s searching for what they find so funny.
“Don’t question them,” Logan advises.
As expected, he goes straight to Winnifred with Luke following behind, heading to Eloise.
I walk toward who seems the most sane, Genevieve.
It’s always Genevieve.
As I stand in front of her, I have the chance to fully take in her appearance. Her black dress, curled hair, and the corsage I slipped on her wrist. She looks gorgeous.
“Are they high?” I ask her.
“No, just happy.” She has a happier look on her face too, I notice.
“That’s good,” I smile. “Why aren’t you laughing on the floor with them?”She looks at the ground.“I’m a downer.” She shrugs. “They were having fun; I didn’t want to ruin it.”
“You think they would have more fun without you rather than with you?”
She says nothing, which is an answer in itself.
Pure chaos, that’s what I see in her. The type of chaos that causes someone to not notice the dusk that erupts over a morning sun. Dark that engulfs anything bright or shining, leaving behind only the trace of what was once a beautiful thing.
And yet, the darkness is a beautiful place to be.
“Let’s dance!” Eloise stands, already headed back inside.
“Well.” Genevieve follows. “That’s our cue.”
The dance floor is packed when we get back, and the DJ coincidentally just turned on a slow song.
Logan and Winnifred are already on the outskirts of the group, but more and more people surround them as they dance together.
I look toward Genevieve, and she is glaring in my direction. “Do not get any ideas,” she says.
Not that I want to dance with her necessarily, but I think it’s part of the high school experience to dance with your date at homecoming.
“This is my first and last homecoming,” I tell her. “Don’t you want to give me the full experience?”
“Don’t worry.” She pats my shoulder. “You have Snowcoming and Prom. That’s plenty of time to find someone who won’t throw up all over your suit while slow dancing.” Her smile is full of fake sincerity.
She thinks she’s funny, and as much as I don’t want to agree, I find myself smiling.
“Gen!” Eloise shouts as she passes us, her arm locked with Luke’s. “If I’m dancing with Luke, you have to dance with Jameson.”
“I never agreed to that!” She yells back.
I hold my hand out to her. “One dance?”
“Not a chance.”
“You are ruining my American high school experience,” I say, pretending to be offended at her discourtesy.
“It’s my attempt at forcing you back to your homeland,” she counters.
“Gen, Jameson, come dance!” Winnie calls next.
I narrow my eyes at Genevieve. “Your friends are persistent.”
Her hostile look says it all. “I’m not dancing with you.”
“You really know how to chop at a bloke’s ego.”
She shrugs because it means nothing to her. “You need some of yours severed anyway.”
“Are you naturally an angry person?”
“I prefer the term miserable.”
It makes perfect sense. “Of course, you do.”
With that, I walk away.
I think Eloise recognizes the shock on my face before I have the chance to. “What happened?” She asks as she approaches.
Luke is treading behind her, but he keeps his distance.
“Jameson,” I can barely say his name, let alone recall what he just said.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks.
I shake my head, a knee-jerk reaction to someone asking about my feelings.
“Well, do you want to know what I just found out?” Her expression changes from concerned to devious.
“What did you just find out?”
“You know who Briar Hart is, right?”
“No.” I give her a look that says, “should I know who Briar Hart is?”
“She’s a junior,” she says. “And she just got offered a full ride to St. Claires.”
St. Claires is one of the most renowned universities in Connecticut. It’s also private, and Catholic, which makes it a popular choice for kids from our school to attend after high school.
Getting a scholarship there is a big deal.
“What kind of full-ride?” I know for a fact that, if this Briar girl was getting an academic scholarship to St. Claires, I would at least know of her.
“She plays lacrosse, and I’ve heard she’s really smart too,” Eloise says as if I should already be informed of this. “I don’t know much about lacrosse, but apparently she’s like…really good.”
“Wait.” I raise a hand to keep her from continuing. “What is her last name again?”
“Hart.”
The pieces are coming together. “She has a younger sister, Gracie. She’s friends with Gwen and Mae.”
Gwen and Mae—mine and Logan’ younger sisters.
“Jeez, why did all of your parents have babies at the same time?”
We both laugh at that.
“Why is this Briar girl important? Are you planning on going to St. Claires?”
“Oh God, no,” Eloise laughs. “There is no way I would ever survive at a private Catholic school. Being lesbian is hard enough at Fairwood, and it’s not even Catholic.”
I laugh at that because she’s right: Catholic school would eat her alive.
I feel a hand on my shoulder, and when I turn around, it’s Winnie, Logan and Luke.
“Gen, where did Jameson go?”Logan asks.
I shrug, “No idea. He asked me not to bother him anymore.”More like not my problem.
I turn back to my conversation with Eloise. “So, how did you even find out about Briar Hart and her scholarship to St. Claires?”
“I’d like to hear this answer too.” Eloise practically goes slack jawed at the new voice, and I turn to find who had spoken.
A brunette girl, with bright green eyes, and high cheekbones is standing behind me. “Briar,” She introduces herself. “I don’t mean to intrude or anything, but I overheard my name and thought I would say hi.”
“Sorry about that, we were just talking about your scholarship,” I say.
“Congratulations, by the way!” Eloise juts in. “I’m Eloise. Eloise Taylor.”
Briar doesn’t look fazed by the compliment. “Thank you.” And with that, she gives a small wave and walks in the opposite direction.
Eloise looks about ready to implode out of embarrassment “Well, that was awkward.”
Winnie looks just as horrified.
“Eh, it wasn’t too bad.” I shrug.
“Jameson!” I hear Logan call across the gym. “Where have you been?”
As he walks closer, his eyes narrow on me. I know he wants to say something like, “I can’t stand to be around her anymore.”
Instead, he looks toward Logan. “Just wandering around.”
Logan gives him a suspicious look, glancing between the two of us. He looks like he just watched the movie of everything that had happened between Jameson and I, which makes me want to squirm out of my skin.
Somehow, Logan always knows everything about everyone, and I have no doubt he is beginning to put the pieces together.
The only issue was that he will never see the full picture like Jameson and I did.