Chapter 7 Then Fourteen Years Ago #2
As the cups remaining in the middle dwindled, I willed the tower to stay far away from me.
But of course it came, right as Theo grabbed the second-to-last cup from the center.
A hush fell over the table, the only sounds coming from the clinking of ping-pong balls.
We both missed shot after shot, but ultimately it was Theo’s that went in.
Everyone but Sebastian cheered as Theo grabbed the full final cup and handed it to me, beer sloshing over the rim in the process.
Just as I raised the cup to my lips, Sebastian leaned close to me—close enough for me to smell his sweat, feel his body heat—and whispered in my ear, “Just pretend to drink it until they look away. Then pass it to me.”
I bristled at his offer, which was really more of a command.
Sebastian took a nonchalant step back, keeping his eyes locked on me as I forced myself to take a couple of defiant sips.
He was right: Within seconds everyone lost interest in my suffering, dispersing to refill their drinks and set up a different game.
I kept drinking, but the discomfort must have been written all over my face, because he stepped toward me again, until he was standing unnervingly close.
About halfway through I gave in, lowering the cup and discreetly passing it to Sebastian.
He downed it in three swift gulps, as if it were water.
“Thanks,” I said, glancing down at my Havaianas flip-flops. “You didn’t have to do that.” I felt relieved and embarrassed and annoyed and grateful all at once.
He shrugged, as if to say no big deal. Then his expression turned serious for a moment. “Hey, is your mom picking you up later? You shouldn’t be biking after drinking.”
Heat crept into my cheeks. Again, I couldn’t decide if I should feel flattered or embarrassed by all the attention Sebastian was paying me.
Was he doing all these things—going easy on me in the game, finishing my beer, asking how I was getting home—because he cared about me?
Or was it simply because he still saw me as a kid, too young to be at a party, too inexperienced to finish my own drinks and make responsible decisions about how to get myself home?
If I got sick or hurt, Bubba would hear about it. Maybe he was just covering himself.
“I’m staying at Maren’s. Her dad’s picking us up,” I said, meeting Sebastian’s eyes and hoping I looked and sounded more confident than I felt. Then I added, “You really don’t have to worry about me.”
“Nikolaou!” Theo called from farther down the beach, where a few of the boys had gathered. He waved a football in the air, gesturing for Sebastian to join them.
“All right, Mariano,” Sebastian said to me, his expression unreadable again. “Have fun.” And then he jogged off to join the guys.
Maren and I spent the rest of the party sitting in a circle with a group of about ten kids, sipping boxed wine from our plastic cups and playing card games.
Aaron sat next to Maren, and I could tell by the way he looked at her and acknowledged everything she said that, for the first time, one of our crushes was mutual.
When she volunteered to bring out another round of drinks, he jumped up to help her, and I winked at her when she shot me a glance over her shoulder.
They returned a few minutes later, Aaron with a little more swagger in his step and Maren blushing transparently.
I knew immediately that my best friend had just had her first kiss.
Sebastian was still with the other guys when Maren’s phone buzzed with a text from Mr. Murphy letting her know he was out front.
As we said our goodbyes, a sophomore named Nia Reilly-Brown invited us to a bonfire at her house the following weekend.
Maren and I didn’t even bother downplaying our enthusiasm—we told her we’d be there.
We were officially on the party circuit.
If Mr. Murphy could smell the evidence of the day’s festivities when we got in the car or deduce anything from our nervous chatter, he didn’t let on.
We attempted small talk about the “barbecue,” offering the briefest possible answers, afraid we sounded drunk, when in reality we were probably buzzing more from hormones than alcohol.
After we’d showered, changed and devoured a pizza with garlic knots—our sleepover special—Maren gave me the play-by-play of the moment with Aaron. When they got into the house, he’d pulled her into the hall next to the kitchen and said she looked really pretty. Then he’d kissed her.
“It was so quick!” She clutched a pillow to her chest, blue eyes wide. We were sitting across from each other on her bed. “It was over before I could even, like, figure out if it was good or not.”
“At least you can say you’ve kissed someone.” I sighed, grabbing the pillow from her and shifting so I could lay my head on it. It was only 8:00 p.m., but I felt liked we’d lived a thousand lives in a day. “And I’m sure you’ll have an opportunity for a do-over soon. Aaron is super into you.”
Maren blushed. I was genuinely happy for my best friend. Sure, I was also a little worried I’d lose her to Aaron at the next party. But mostly I was happy.
“Your time is coming soon too, Leens, I can just feel it.” Maren squeezed my arm. “How was talking to Sebastian?”
I shrugged, still horizontal. “I just don’t think he sees me as any more than this girl who works at his mom’s restaurant in the summer. Like a little sister he’s responsible for.”
“Is that actually how he sees you, or is that how you see yourself?” Maren raised an eyebrow at me, clearly impressed by her own eloquence.
“If you keep convincing yourself that you’re someone he would never be interested in, that’s exactly who you’re going to become.
You’re not even giving yourself a fighting chance! ”
I sighed. “What I want is to finally be over this crush. I want to stop reading into every little interaction I have with him, wondering if it means anything. I want to be free of Sebastian Nikolaou.” I pressed my face into the pillow and let out a muffled little cry. Dramatic? Sure. But it felt good.
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Maren said, rubbing my back.
I opened one eye to look at her. “What are you talking about?”
“We’ll swear off the Sebastian talk. No obsessing, no over-analyzing. We won’t give him any airtime this summer.”
“Mar. I start back at Bubba’s when school’s out in two weeks. And I’m in the main dining room this year, like him. I’m hardly going to be having a Sebastian-free summer.”
She shook her head. “It’s not about the time you’re physically around him. It’s about the space he takes up in your mind.” She tapped a finger to her temple for emphasis. “You’ve gotta kick him out of there.”
Later, after we’d shut off the lights and slipped under the covers, I contemplated what Maren had said.
She was right, of course, but as much as I wanted to believe I could simply banish Sebastian from my thoughts and regard him with ambivalence that summer, I doubted it would be that simple.
The pull I felt toward Sebastian was so strong, it felt physical.
What if I wasn’t strong enough to resist it?