Chapter Thirty-Two
The house party. Is a teen movie even a teenmovie without a house party?
I would like to argue it hardly is.
Time and time again, I’ve seen the same scene—a house cramped with unchaperoned teenagers who are ready to let loose. They consume alcohol. Sometimes even drugs. Friendships end and friendships begin. There are hookups and breakups. And usually, the cops show up.
Each scene I’ve watched has been cautionary and aspirational. Of course, I don’t want to be the drunk girl who pukes on her crush right after she kisses him. But I wouldn’t mind being the girl killing every game of beer pong and dancing on the kitchen counter while everyone cheers her on.
Yes, it’s a known fact that shit always goes down at house parties. It’s typically a pivotal point in the movie—the high before the dreaded low. In the movie Booksmart, Molly—an uptight bookworm—lets loose for one night before graduation. She goes to a party at her crush’s house. She plays beer pong with him; they connect over Harry Potter, and she’s positive they’re going to hook up. But minutes later, she finds him kissing someone else. She’s heartbroken. But it doesn’t end there. She also has a huge falling-out with her best friend.
As I walk into Blake’s large contemporary-style house, the only one of its kind I’ve seen in Bellwood, I try not to think of the low point that typically occurs at house parties. I’m too excited to be paranoid or overly cautious. Like everyone who comes to a party, I just want to have fun.
At past eight, the house is already crowded. Because of the occasion, it’s difficult to recognize people. Masks and face paint do a good job of disguising identities. Though I suspect a girl in a skintight Catwoman suit and a BeDazzled black mask is Tamara. Her signature Afro is the only evidence I need.
“All right!” Esosa claps. “Let’s get this party started!” Because of her formal attire, she looks out of place, like she should be sipping champagne at an elegant black-tie event.
“Okay. I’m gonna go find Katie,” Adrian says. “Apparently she’s dressed like ‘Oops!… I Did It Again’ Britney. The queen of pop and the king of pop. A match made in heaven.” He runs a hand over his slicked hair. Three loose curls remain where he strategically placed them earlier—right in front of his forehead, the perfect touch to his Michael Jackson costume. He spins around, releases a high-pitched “he-he,” and moonwalks away from me and Esosa.
“Isn’t the queen of pop Madonna?” I ask.
“Yeah. But let him have it,” Esosa says. “He’s had a crush on Katie for what seems like forever. If he thinks he has even a little chance with her, let him have it.”
I snort under my breath, then yelp when arms abruptly come around my waist.
“Hello, Wendy.”
I release a deep sigh and relax against Davi’s chest. “Hello, Peter Pan.”
He trails kisses along my neck, and warmth creeps up my spine.
“Okay. We’re in public.” Esosa scrunches her nose. “Respect yourselves.”
“How about you respect yourself by giving us some space?” I wave my hand at her, shooing her off.
“Whatever.” She scans the room and smirks. “Actually, there’s somewhere else I’d rather be, anyway.” After pulling her gloves up and pursing her glossed lips, she struts toward Zane.
I guess her crush is still intact.
“Hey.” Davi kisses my cheek and draws my attention from Esosa. “You okay?”
“Um… yeah.” Seeing my little sister in flirtation/seduction mode is uncomfortable, to say the least.
“Do you want to get a drink?”
“Okay.” Maybe that will help shake my discomfort.
We shuffle past the crowd in the hallway and make it to the kitchen. Blake is behind the counter acting as the bartender.
“Wendy! Peter!” he shouts when he sees me and Davi. “A cheesy couples’ costume. Now, if that isn’t a sign of true love, what the hell is?”
“It’s adorable,” Sybil says, smiling. She’s wearing a long blond wig and a pink mini dress that’s skintight. Her over-the-top makeup exaggerates her lips and heightens her cheekbones, making them look razor sharp. Black lines cover most of her body—her arms, chest, and neck—as if a surgeon marked down the parts of her body going under the knife.
I squint, trying to figure out her costume.
“Botched Barbie,” she says. “I’m a botched Barbie.”
I’m caught between laughing and marveling at her pure genius. “Wow.”
“Creative, right?” Bethany says. “Ara and I couldn’t be bothered.” She sips from a plastic cup and shrugs.
They’re both wearing the Bellwood cheer uniform. The only sign they’re dressed for Halloween is their makeup—the dark circles around their eyes, the trail of blood painted at the corners of their lips, and the very realistic gunshot wound in the middle of their foreheads. This is the kind of costume that would have kept me and Esosa at home, where our mother would have carried out an extensive lecture followed by an avid prayer session for the salvation of our souls.
“I’d like to add that this is their second year going as murdered cheerleaders.” Blake shakes his head, unimpressed by their effort.
“And you’re a cowboy,” Ara says. “I’m pretty sure you went as a cowboy for Halloween every year in middle school.”
“What? I love cowboys. You, on the other hand, are just lazy. Big difference.” He laughs as Ara rolls her eyes. “Anyway… let’s get wasted.” After aggressively shaking a stainless steel cocktail shaker, he fills six shot glasses with green liquid. “Here you go,” he says, extending glasses to me and Davi.
“Um… is there alcohol in it?” It’s a stupid question. I saw him pour vodka into the shaker. But I’m honestly hoping it was somehow Sprite.
“Yeah. There’s vodka in it. And a few other ingredients.” He winks. “It’s my specialty drink.”
So no, not Sprite.
“I’ve never had alcohol before,” I admit, without considering how childish I might sound.
“You don’t have to,” Davi says. “I could get you a Coke. We could have that instead.”
There’s no trace of judgment on his face or on anyone else’s. Well, except for Ara’s. I swear judgment and disdain are imprinted on her face.
“Yeah. I could get you a Coke if you want,” Blake adds.
“Um… no. Don’t worry about it.” I take the glass in his hand.
“Are you sure? I could make you something else—a mocktail.”
I consider his offer and remind myself that tonight, I want to have fun.
“It’s fine,” I say. “I’ll have this.”
We all lift our shot glasses and, at Blake’s command, down our drinks. I close my eyes and wince as the sweet and sour liquid fills my mouth. The burn of alcohol turns warm as it goes down my throat. When I open my eyes, everyone is watching me, likely waiting to see if I’ll double over and throw up. To their surprise, I extend my empty glass to Blake and say, “Fill it up.”
“All right!” Blake claps and mixes another drink.
“Here.” Davi opens the box of pizza on the counter. “Eat while you drink, so you don’t get light-headed or anything.”
“Thanks.” I grab a slice and have a few bites before taking one last shot.
I’m definitely not drunk. Well, I don’t think I am. But my limbs feel loose, and my head feels a little empty. The loud music pulsates in a way it didn’t when I initially walked in. I wrap my arms around Davi and sway along with the other people in the crowded corridor. I’m completely caught up in him until someone mentions my name. Davi stops dancing, and his stare shifts above my head.
“Hey.” He places his hands on my hips and stops me from swaying. “I think that’s your mom. Well, from the family pictures you’ve showed me, I’m guessing it’s her.”
“What?” I laugh, confused.
“Your mom,” he persists. “She’s here. Behind you.”
Still laughing, because I’m convinced Davi is making no sense, I turn around. The instant I come face-to-face with my mother, a chuckle gets caught in my throat like something I can neither swallow or cough up. I gawk at her, speechless.
What is she doing here—at Blake’s party? Her eyebrows are furrowed as she looks from me to Davi. She’s furious.
“Um… Ms. Adesuwa.” Davi’s voice shakes as he addresses my mom and attempts to hold her downright intimidating stare. “It’s nice to… um… meet you. I’m Davi.”
Although I’ve met Davi’s dad, I was positive Davi would never meet my mom. At least not anytime soon. But for some reason, my mom is at this party, looking at Davi.
“Where are your sister and your cousin?” she asks without saying a word to Davi. Her voice is low and steely, rather than the alternative—loud and terrifying. Regardless, the people in proximity look at her questioningly.
“Um…” I glance around. “I don’t know. They’re somewhere here.” I only pray Esosa is not in a corner kissing Zane. This is not the time to explore her crush.
“Find them,” my mom says. “And meet me in the car. Now.” She glares at Davi; her eyes shift from his head to his toe, then she turns around and walks toward the front door.
My heart beats erratically. Sweat covers my forehead. I can’t believe this is happening. I look away from everyone who’s staring at me. I have to find Esosa and Adrian before she comes back and really makes a scene.
“Esosa,” I call out as I rush toward the kitchen.
“Hey,” Davi says, following. “What was that about?”
I don’t answer him because I don’t know myself. But truthfully, my priority at the moment isn’t my curiosity. It’s finding Esosa.
“Have you seen my sister?” I ask Bethany.
“Yeah. Outside. By the pool.”
“Thanks.” I march through the sliding glass door, and of course, Esosa is sitting at the edge of the pool with Zane. The enormous pink bow on the back of her dress is the first thing I see, and then Zane’s arm around her shoulder. “Sosa.” I’m panting when I reach her.
“Hey.” Her expansive smile drops the moment she notices the look on my face. “What is it?”
“Mom. She’s here.”
“What do you mean, she’s here?”
“As in she’s outside, waiting to take us home. We have to find Adrian and go.”
“But I don’t understand. What is she even doing here?”
I sigh, annoyed. “I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter right now. We have to go.”
Thankfully, she asks no more questions. With Zane’s help, she stands, then rolls down her dress; it goes from a mini dress on her thighs to its original length at her feet.
“Okay. Let’s find Adrian.” She takes a step forward with me, then stops abruptly and turns to Zane. Even with the chaos of the situation, her lips stretch into the sweetest smile. “This was fun.”
“Yeah,” Zane agrees, grinning. “It was. See you around?”
“Yeah. Absolutely.”
“Oh, come on.” I grab my sister’s hand and pull her along. “We have to look for Adrian.”
It doesn’t take much to find my cousin. He’s sitting on the stairs, his head between his legs.
“What’s wrong with you?” Esosa asks him.
“Don’t feel so good. My stomach.” He groans. “Is my mom here? I called. Told her to come get me?”
Esosa and I look at each other and sigh. I guess that explains the current situation.
“Come on. Let’s go.” Esosa hunches down, places an arm around him, and helps him to stand.
“I’ve got it,” Davi says. He takes Esosa’s place, allowing Adrian to rest his weight on him.
We all walk through the door and then outside. I see my mom at the curb, inside Uncle Davis’s Mercedes. Esosa opens the backseat door, and Adrian enters the car slowly. When the door shuts with my sister and cousin inside, Davi turns to me.
“Are you going to be okay?” His concerned eyes search mine.
“I have to go.” I can’t possibly stand on the curb of this street and have a conversation with him while my livid mother waits inside the car. That won’t make any of this better. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
I open the passenger door and enter the car. The silence that greets me once I shut the door is daunting. My mother doesn’t look at me. She doesn’t say a word. Neither does Esosa. It seems like even Adrian has the good sense to hold off on groaning until he’s escaped the tension in the car.
I guess this is it, then, the dreaded low that comes after the high of a house party.