“Hi,” I said.
“Hey, Josie’s told us all about you,” Erica said. “Nice to meet you.”
“This is my house, just so you know,” Heather said. “So you can grab a drink from the kitchen, whatever you want. It’s nice to meet you.”
They were both really nice, but I couldn’t help but feel how superficial it was. They were only interested in hanging out with Josephine, of course. The three of them lapsed back into familiar conversation as we moved further into the room. And there it was. The moment I knew would happen. Josephine talking to her friends, and a room full of disinterested morons jabbering away, and me, standing there like a fucking outcast, pretending like I was fine with it.
I stood close to the three of them so it would at least look like I was included, and finally Heather said, “Rachel, why don’t you go get yourself a drink?”
Nice. I hadn’t noticed that the two girls had brought Josephine a drink when we came in, so the three of them all had beer bottles.
“Uh, sure, thanks,” I said. At least going to the kitchen would give me something to do; it would look like I was either on my way to a conversation or coming from one. I weaved around the people, none of whom noticed me, into the kitchen. It was also filled with people, some of them sitting on the kitchen counter, some of them sitting around the table, which had bowls filled with chips and stuff on it. The music was loud in here too, and everyone was just blabbering away about god-knows-what, and I couldn’t see drinks anywhere. I guessed the fridge would be a good place to start.
I squeezed through the people and opened it. There was a lot of beer in there. I didn’t want one, but I figured I’d try it anyway.
“Yo, grab me one too,” some guy said, pushing up behind me. “There’s too many people in here.”
“Uh, sure,” I said, taking two bottles out and handing one to him.
“Thanks. Let me open that for you.” Using a bottle opener he had on his keychain, the guy opened them. “Hey, cheers,” he said and took a swig.
Gamely, I took a swig too. It tasted like filthy shit, absolutely horrible. I couldn’t keep the wince from my face, and the guy laughed.
“Yeah, this beer sucks. Hey, my name’s Mark,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Robbie’s friend.”
I shook it, still marvelling at how foul the beer tasted. “I’m Rachel. I’m here with Josephine.”
“I don’t know who that is.” He gulped down some more beer. “So what school do you go to?”
“Glen Park.”
“Ah, fuck! Do you know Danny Bastin?”
“Nope.”
“Oh. Well, he’s my buddy. I go to Our Lady. It fucking sucks.”
I nodded amiably. He and I stood there awkwardly for a minute, and then he noticed someone on the other side of the room he wanted to talk to. Or maybe he didn’t, and it was his way of making an excuse to get away from me. “Well, hey, it was nice meeting you, Rachel.”
“Yeah, you too,” I said, and he disappeared into the kitchen-herd, and I was left standing alone again, now with a disgusting drink in my hand. I didn’t want to go back to the living room and stand awkwardly with Josephine and her friends. Walking to the kitchen had made me feel more comfortable, so I decided to take a stroll around the house. It seemed like a better idea to walk around alone than to stand alone.
I moved through the kitchen and dining room. Everyone at that party looked like an asshole. From across the room I noticed Josephine chatting with her friends; she raised her eyebrows at me. You okay? I nodded. She raised her beer bottle at me questioningly. Did you get a drink? I held mine up so she could see it and tried to smile at her. She smiled back and resumed her conversation. I was fine. I was just fine.