I sat myself on a couch in front of a bowl of jelly beans, trying to ignore the twin feelings of embarrassment and awkwardness. I’d never been good at parties. That was one of the things that Jeremy and I had in common. We were both, for the most part, homebodies. We’d enjoyed nights in, watching movies or just reading on the couch with our feet tangled up together. We’d go to the occasional party—mostly book launches and smaller gatherings at friends’ houses but nothing like this. For a brief, unexpected moment, I missed him.
I watched Gabe from across the room. He seemed completely at ease with all these people around him—with all the chaos and noise.
I felt a bit like a creep, the way my eyes would find him in the crowd, the way I began monitoring where he was and who he was with. I kept shifting my gaze to the door, wondering if Jacinda Lockwood would show up.
I continued eating jelly beans, and I could feel the sugar warring with my exhaustion. I shifted on the couch, and it squeaked loud enough that two people turned to look at me.
“It’s the sofa,” I said, waving a hand at it.
They both just frowned and turned away. It seemed possible that I looked completely insane—sitting by myself, shoving handfuls of candy into my mouth—but I kept telling myself that no one cared. No one noticed me.
The thought was both comforting and depressing.
I told myself I’d leave after I found one more sour-apple jelly bean.
When I did, I pulled myself to my feet, swaying a little as I reached my final altitude. I was buzzing from the sugar but I was still tired. My eyelids fought with gravity.
Gabe stepped to the center of the room.
I sat down again, the rapid movement taking most of the energy out of me.
“Okay,” Gabe said. “It’s time to play.”
My head felt heavy and wobbly but I was determined to keep it upright. Even if I had to rest my hand at the base of my throat, using my palm to stabilize it like my neck was that slippery, unsteady column of birthday cake in Sleeping Beauty.
“How long do these games go for?” I asked the person next to me.
They looked at me with boozy, sleepy eyes and gave me a thumbs-up. It wasn’t the answer I was looking for, but I returned the gesture anyway.
It was just another reminder of how out of my element I was. This was Gabe’s life—all this endless partying—and two days in I was already exhausted. How could someone maintain this kind of lifestyle?
I looked around and could see that some of the veneer I’d admired when I first arrived—the same kind of polish I’d noticed at last night’s premiere—had begun to rub off.
Tucked in among the younger, more fresh-faced guests were a few that looked like they had been partying since this house was new. There was a worn-out seediness to them, those deep lines around the eyes that said they’d been around this town far too long.
It felt like a warning.
To me. To everyone here.
Jelly beans sloshed around in my stomach, all alone.
“Come on,” Gabe urged his guests, most of whom seemed to have a general idea of what was going on.
Some of the more wizened partygoers made their retreat, taking out packs of cigarettes as they migrated to the backyard. Whatever was about to happen, it was clear that it wasn’t for them.
I had no clue what was going on, but I got back on my feet anyway.
Gabe was walking around the room, pointing at people and saying “one” or “two,” like my PE teacher did in middle school when it was time to play dodgeball.
Gabe reached me—his finger mid-point. I should have been a one.
“Two,” he said instead, and then pointed at himself. “Two.”
He finished going around the room and then he was back in front of me.
“Come on,” he said, taking my arm. “You’re on my team.”
The game was called Running Pyramid. All of us were instructed to write a list of ten things. We were to show them to no one.
“I don’t know what to put on my list,” I said to no one in particular.
“Anything you want, darling,” Ollie said. “But don’t get too complicated.”
He had appeared next to me, though I couldn’t say when. If he was drunk, he was hiding it well.
Gabe too. If not for the heavy hood of his eyes and the slight lean that only the most focused observer might note, I might have assumed he was sober.
“I don’t even know what would be too complicated,” I told Ollie.
Someone passed out paper and pencils. I was impressed by how well-organized this game was, but by the time the materials had reached me, I’d already forgotten what I was supposed to do with them.
“Ten things?” I asked Ollie.
He glanced over at me and gave me a sympathetic smile.
“Oh, love,” he said. “You’re just about tits up, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know what that means,” I said. “But I do think my tits are tired.”
He patted my hand.
“Here,” he said. “I’ll do your list and mine.”
“Thank you.” I handed over my paper, though I still had no idea what was happening.
“Is everyone ready to play?” Gabe asked. “Ollie, you ready to embarrass yourself?”
Ollie gave him the V sign.
“Ollie’s ready,” Gabe said. “Chani?”
I looked up at him, though I wasn’t sure how I managed it since my head felt so dense.
“I’m sleepy,” I said.
“She’s drunk,” Ollie clarified.
I shook my head. “Not drunk,” I said. “I had too many jelly beans, though.”
“Come on.” Gabe hoisted me up out of my seat, gripping my arm.
His hand was warm, his palm rough against the soft skin on the inside of my elbow.
“Team Two with me,” Gabe said.
I followed him, though I didn’t have much choice. He was still holding my arm.
“Cool party,” I said.
It came out sarcastic.
“Not a fan of games?” Gabe asked.
I shook my head but lost control of the gesture halfway through and couldn’t stop. I just had to let myself run out of momentum until my head was tilted to one side, looking up at Gabe. He was so tall.
“You are drunk,” he said.
“I’m not good at games,” I said.
“No?”
“No.”
It came out the same way a child might respond if someone offered them vegetables, a long, drawn out whine.
Gabe didn’t say anything but I could see him reassessing his opinion of me. I didn’t like it.
“I’ll try,” I said.
He smiled.
“Good.” He clapped me on the shoulder like we were football players and turned to the rest of the team. “Who wants to go first?”