Populazzi

Chapter Twenty-Three



Popping into the party from the laundry room seemed risky. Probably no one would notice, but if someone did, it would be tough to explain. Instead, we slid out the side door and walked to the front, making sure no one saw us lurking in the shadows.

"Wait," Claudia said as I was about to open the door. "We stick together tonight, right?"

Claudia shifted uncomfortably, tugging on her hem and adjusting her jacket. Was she nervous?

"We totally stick together."

Claudia nodded. I opened the door, and we walked into our first Populazzi party.

Despite the title, not all the guests were Populazzi. They were there in force: all the juniors, a few seniors, a bunch of sophomores, even a couple freshman Populazzi had made the cut. But the house was full, and a lot of the partiers were plucked from upper-level Cubby Crews, like the Cosmopolitans, the Jocks, the Alts, the Cheer-Girls (Cheer-Boys were so not upper-level), and the Scenesters.

Claude and I did a recon loop. The living room was all about people playing and watching Wii on a big-screen TV. The kitchen was packed with people, food, and drinks—including a keg of beer. The dining room was the heart of the party. All the furniture had been pushed against the wall, and a docked iPod blared old-school funk for everyone on the crowded floor.

Trista Camello danced in the absolute center of the room, surrounded by friends and admirers. She wore a black strapless, lacy sheath of a dress with an impossibly high hemline. No one else at Chrysella could pull off that look. On her it looked perfectly natural.

"Behold the Supreme Populazzi," I whispered to Claudia.

"You think?" Claudia whispered back. "I can already feel myself falling into orbit."

That was exactly it. Trista was the sun. The whole party rotated around her gravitational center. She dazzled with heat and light. The closer you were to her, the hotter and brighter you glowed, too.

I was so grateful Claudia was there. On my own I'd have felt awkward and out of place. With her by my side, the party felt like a grand sociological experiment arranged just for us. We'd love every second.

I was about to point out the rest of the guest highlights when I felt someone sidle behind us. A low voice said, "Hey ... you don't go to Chrysella, do you?"

It was Marsh Kinsey, a junior class Penultimate. He was meltworthy ... and he was staring at Claudia like she was a work of art.

"I don't," she said simply.

Claudia never said anything simply.

Then she smiled shyly.

Shyly?

"I didn't think so," Marsh said. "If I'd seen you around, we'd definitely have been hanging."

That was his line? I tried to catch Claudia's eye, but she was all about Marsh.

"I'm Claudia," she said.

"You're beautiful," he replied. "You like dancing?"

"I love it," Claudia said—which was a total lie!

Marsh took her hand and led her closer to the sun. Of course they looked beautiful together, dancing in Trista's glow. Marsh's eyes seemed glued to Claudia, but when he finally glanced away, she looked at me and mouthed, OH MY GOD!

Wait—didn't Marsh have a girlfriend? I'd always seen him in the halls with Ree-Ree Wenderoth, another junior class Penultimate. I looked around, but Ree-Ree wasn't in the room. Had I seen her in the living room or kitchen? I couldn't remember for sure, but I didn't think so. Was she sick? Was Marsh fooling around on her? I doubted it. Ree-Ree was one of Trista's girls. If Marsh was fooling around on her, Trista would have to say something or at least look unhappy about it, right?

Marsh and Ree-Ree must have broken up. And Claudia was his rebound girl. Awesome.

I was psyched for Claudia, but I was also exactly where I didn't want to be: alone at a Populazzi party. I was very aware of standing by myself, watching the Populazzi dance. If people noticed me, they'd think I was pathetic. I had to move.

I wandered back to the living room. Eddie Riegert and another guy were having a Wii Sports Resort sword duel. I wondered how they'd react if they knew they were playing pretty much the exact same game as the two Happy Hopeless across the street. Then again, Robert had said he and Eddie used to be friends, so maybe it wasn't that big a coincidence after all.

I scanned the crowd for friendly faces and found none, so I kept moving. The kitchen was packed with groups of twos, threes, and fours, all midconversation. If I were Trista, I could hop into any of these groups with the perfect anecdote and instantly hold everyone in thrall.

But I was me. I had no clue what to say.

I strode to the snack table, a girl on a mission. A fake mission, but no one else had to know that. I filled five large paper cups with potato chips, pretzels, and M&M's—enough food to share with the whole group of fictitious friends waiting for me in the other room.

It was good to have something specific to do. I wanted it to last. I pored through a cooler, comparing every can of Diet Coke so I could choose one that had reached exactly the right temperature. I started off, then doubled back with a fake look of recognition, as if I'd just remembered the snack request of one more friend. I filled a sixth cup with corn chips.

I couldn't stretch my one-woman show any longer, but it had already been a while. Maybe Claudia was done dancing.

I balanced my snacks and walked into the dining room. Claudia and Marsh weren't there. I found them in the living room, curled together on a love seat. Claudia was speaking passionately about something, which was good—it meant she was back to being herself. Even better was the fact that Marsh looked totally into it ... and totally into her.

Things were going well, and there was no way I was going to interrupt. Unfortunately, that left me with nothing to do. If I'd been alone, I'd have slipped out and gone home, but I couldn't leave Claudia. That left me stuck in a sea of social elites who at any moment would realize that A) I clearly didn't belong here, and B) I had an absurdly large appetite.

I made sure no one was watching, then headed back toward the laundry room. I wondered how long I could hide out back there without anyone noticing. I wondered if Robert really did have an extra broadsword.

I was almost out of the living room when the front door opened, and the last person in the world I expected to see at a Populazzi party arrived.

Nate Wetherill.

I didn't think Nate ever came to things like this.

He looked pained and wild-eyed. He staggered in a few steps, then wailed, "Has anyone seen Cara Leonard?"

Oh. My. God.

I quickly crept into the shadows of the hallway.

"Please," Nate cried again, even louder this time. "Has anyone seen Cara Leonard?"

He had everyone's attention now. Several voices buzzed that they'd seen me around somewhere, which was almost gratifying enough to negate the far greater number of voices asking, "Who?"

"I want to play you all a song I wrote about Cara Leonard," Nate said, "the woman who corroded my heart away in an acid bath of antipathy. Cara, if you're listening, this is for you. It's called...'Succubus.'"

He started playing, and I knew the tune immediately. It was the song he'd written for me. He had said before it was about my first experience with pot but he hadn't come up with the right words to describe it. Words didn't seem to be an issue anymore.

"Of this one thing I am sure

Cara Leonard is a whore

Or at least that's how she acted in my bed..."

I thought of Claudia sitting on the love seat. It was a crime that I couldn't see her face from my hiding spot.

"Sucked my soul and spirit dry

Ripped my heart out, let it fry

Then danced naked in my entrails while I bled."

Nate looked my way. I ducked farther back into the shadows just in time. I was still way too close. I slid into the laundry room as he launched into his hard-rocking chorus.

"Suc-suc-succubus

My rotting heart is covered in pus.

Suc-suc-succubus

The putrid corpse of the two of us. "

I wondered which death would be less painful: running myself through the washer or the dryer.

"That guy is megatalented. How often do you hear the word 'putrid' in a song?"

It was Eddie Riegert. I wanted to disappear. "You're not going to tell him I'm in here, are you?" I asked. "Are you kidding? He's got the whole crowd with him. You think I'm gonna get in the way of that?"

Sure enough, all the party guests were singing along now. "Suc-suc-succubus / My rotting heart is covered in pus..."

"I swear, he wasn't even interested in me when we were together," I told Eddie. "I don't get it."

"He's e-mo," Eddie said, dragging out the word. "For emotional. He feels things deeper than the rest of us." Then he looked at me and smirked. "But you know all about that, right? That's your scene."

From the way he said it, I had a feeling he already knew the truth.

"It's not really my scene," I admitted. I waited for him to start asking questions, but he didn't. He hopped up to sit on the washing machine.

"So tell me about yourself, Cara Leonard." He eyed the six cups of snacks I'd put on the dryer. "Hungry?"

I blushed and shook my head, so Eddie started snacking on the chips. He watched me, apparently waiting for me to start talking.

It was funny: I'd spent the past couple weeks dying for a guy to show even the slightest curiosity about who I really was. Now I was sitting with a Penultimate who was asking me to talk ... and I had no idea what to say.

"Um ... maybe we could take turns. You could tell me about yourself, too."

"Sure. You first."

"Ummm..."

Why were only the most random and bizarre things popping into my head?

"Okay ... I won't eat Hershey's Miniatures because I met the walk-around ones at Hersheypark when I was little and can't stand to see them hunted for food."

"That's ... weird."

What I really needed was the human version of an electric dog collar. Whenever I was about to say something stupid, it could shock me into silence.

"Your turn," I said.

"I regularly scarf Hershey's Miniatures. By the handful." "Oh."

"That was a joke, Cara," he said.

"Oh. Sorry." I forced a laugh.

"Okay, it wasn't like a laugh-out-loud joke. Are you always this nervous?"

"I'm not nervous," I said.

"Whatever. How about we make it easier. You said you want to know about me?"

I nodded.

"Okay, grab a cup of snacks and settle in. Here goes."

Eddie told me his whole story. He was the youngest of four, and his sister and brothers were all at least fifteen years older than him. He was the accident.

"When I was nine, my parents sat me down and said, 'Eddie, honey, we love you, but we're old. We're tired of parenting. You keep your grades above a C, you don't get any girls pregnant, we die happy. Everything else, you do what you want.'"

"They said that to you? Were you devastated?"

"Why? I thought they were pretty simple rules to live by."

"You didn't feel like they were rejecting you?"

Eddie squinched his face at me. The conversation had gone much better when I'd stayed out of it. Maybe I'd invent that human electric dog collar myself.

"Tell me more," I said.

He did. He said he played varsity football, basketball, and baseball and really wanted to get a sports scholarship to college. None of his siblings had gotten any financial aid for their education, and he wanted to give his parents a break.

"Oh, and I've already been married," he said.

"You ... what?"

It was his sister Suzanne's idea. It had happened when Eddie was three and Suzanne was eighteen. Suzanne's best friend had a little sister Eddie's age, and the two older kids thought it would be fun to throw a wedding. They arranged a huge ceremony and reception. Suzanne and her friends catered, decorated, hired a band ... More than a hundred guests came, including Eddie's other siblings, who flew in for the occasion. Eddie wore a tux, the bride a gown, and the ceremony was performed by Eddie's uncle, a true ordained minister.

"Everyone played it up. My mom cried; the girl and I fed each other cake; people made toasts. The party went on till way after my bedtime. I seriously thought I was legally married until I was twelve."

"That's crazy! Were you mad when you found out the truth?"

"Why would I be mad? It was funny."

I laughed. He may have been a Populazzi, but Eddie was really easy to talk to. Listen to, really. He had all kinds of stories, and we sat in his laundry room for ages as he told them to me. I was surprised when my cell alarm beeped—I'd been having so much fun, I hadn't even realized how much time had passed.

"My time's up?" Eddie asked.

"No, it's..." I hated to say it out loud. "I have to get back for curfew."

"No problem. I haven't heard any singing for a while, so I bet you're safe." He peeked into the living room. "Yeah, Nate's gone. You're cool."

"You practically spent your whole party hiding out with me," I said as we left the laundry room. "I'm so sorry."

"Why?"

I had no good answer for that.

"Besides," he said, "it's not the whole party. This thing's going on all night."

I wasn't sure if that was supposed to make me feel better or worse. I couldn't linger on it, though, because right in front of me was the most incredible thing I'd ever seen.

Claudia was still cuddled up on the love seat with Marsh—only now they were completely making out.

This was huge. This was huger than huge.

This was also a problem. We had to leave now, but there was no way in the universe I'd interrupt the biggest moment in Claudia's life.

Eddie understood. "I got it," he said. He walked over and punched Marsh on the arm. "Dude, she's gotta go."

Marsh and Claudia reluctantly pulled apart. "I'll walk you out," he told her. He took her hand and the four of us walked to my car. Neither Claudia nor I said anything, but we kept sneaking glances at each other, asking a million silent questions.

We split at the car, Eddie walking to the driver's side with me while Claudia and Marsh kissed.

"Thanks for keeping me company," I said.

"No worries. It was fun."

"For me, too. Thanks." I had just said thanks about two seconds ago. Maybe what I really needed was a thesaurus implanted in my brain. I climbed into the car as a breathless Claudia collapsed into the seat next to me. I was about to drive off when Eddie signaled for me to roll down the window.

"What's up?" I asked.

"See you at school Monday," he said—then leaned in and kissed me. On the lips. Nothing major, nothing wild, but a kiss. What did it mean?

Claudia grinned as we pulled away from the curb. "Looks like your next target on the Ladder has chosen you ... succubus."

"Okay, Miss I-Hook-Up-with-Populazzi! Tell me!"

"'This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, / May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.'" Claudia sighed.

"Nope. Won't cut it. I need details."

For the first time ever, Claudia couldn't find words. She tried—she opened her mouth like she was going to say something—but all that finally came out was a scream of delight.

"Tell me!"

"I know Marsh and I go to different schools and we don't live close to each other, but in a way I think that's perfect. It's so much more romantic. We have to pine for each other. And it keeps me a challenge: he'll work to win me over again every time we meet. Especially since he's competing against my ex-boyfriend Paris, who's dying to get back together."

"You named your fake ex-boyfriend Paris?"

"It felt appropriate."

"What would you have done if he knew Romeo and Juliet?"

"Chalked the name up to an incredible coincidence. And gone back to kissing him. Immediately."

"Okay," I said, "keep in mind this is crazy because I have no idea if Eddie's even into me ... but what if you started going out with Marsh and I started going out with Eddie? They're friends—the four of us would hang out together all the time."

"I love it! We'll be like the four lovers at the end of Midsummer Night's Dream. Can I be Hermia? I always wanted to be Hermia."

"You could come down every weekend and stay with me. We'd all go out Saturday nights, hang together on Sundays—"

"You have to stop. You're getting my hopes up and I don't want to be disappointed."

"Marsh'll hit me up in the halls for the inside scoop on all your favorite things so he can surprise you—"

"I'm serious, Cara, stop. I'll end up writing songs like Nate Wetherill."

"We could all go to prom together!"

"SUC-SUC-SUCCUBUS," Claudia sang, "MYROTTING HEART IS COVERED IN PUS..."

I had to admit the song was catchy. I joined in.

"SUC-SUC-SUCCUBUS," we sang at the top of our lungs, "THE PUTRID CORPSE OF THE TWO OF US."

The night could not possibly have been any better.