“Eh, good enough.” She grits her teeth and taps her fingers against the steering wheel as we crawl up the winding road behind a small white car that brakes at nearly every turn, the driver clearly uncomfortable with the sharply curved roads of the canyon. “She convinced me that we don’t need to date other people, at least not for the rest of the summer.”
“How’d she do that?”
DeeDee looks over with a sly smile.
We aren’t the first to arrive, but the house is still in pristine condition and everyone is still sober. A giant American flag is planted on the front of the house, waving in the slight breeze. Inside, Alicia has decorated with red, white, and blue streamers, patriotic paper fans, and ceramic bowls with stars and stripes painted along the outside that hold pretzels and chips. American flag–themed pinwheels are piled in the corner of the coffee table.
Alicia herself is decked out in a pair of white shorts flecked with blue stars, a red tank top, and a metallic Uncle Sam hat. She pulls DeeDee in for a kiss as soon as we walk inside. I do a quick scan of the room to see if anyone I know is here, and notice Grace watching me from across the living room, next to the stone fireplace. We nod at each other, but no attempt to talk is made from either end. I’m grateful when Emil and Justin show up a couple of minutes later, though I can’t stop wondering when Lion and Rafaela will be here, too.
Justin immediately walks out back to check on the keg and, with DeeDee distracted by Alicia, Emil and I have this corner of the room to ourselves. He kisses me, directly on the lips, and I think how good it feels, to be so open about what we’re becoming… whatever that is. And then how guilty I feel, too, because I was never brave enough to have this with Iris.
A few more of Alicia’s friends show up, all strangers to me; people who go to school with her and Rafaela and Grace. It’s a different crowd than the one we hang with from my old school. There’s lots of hair dyed bright colors and black clothes and plenty of piercings and tattoos, but there’s a different vibe than our crowd. Maybe that they’re not so much artsy as they are badass. I’m slightly intimidated by them.
Catie Ransom slips through the door not long after we’ve arrived and surveys the scene with a look on her face like she’s tasted something bad. I try to discreetly move from her line of vision, but she sees us right away and walks over in her boots and black shorts and crocheted black crop top.
“What is this?” She points her finger back and forth between Emil and me.
I frown, even less in the mood for her than I normally am. “What is what?”
“Are you guys, like, together?”
“What if we are?” Emil says, parroting the derision of her tone.
Catie steps back for a moment, looks at him with surprise and a tiny bit of respect. Emil usually doesn’t let Catie bother him and he doesn’t talk to people the way she does, and I think she likes this side of him, no matter how brief.
“Hey, whatever makes you happy.” She shrugs before walking past us to the kitchen.
I don’t like how this night is starting out.
Rafaela and Lionel are among the last of the “first-tier crowd” (Alicia’s words) to show up, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see his red head ducking through the doorway. Rafaela’s arm is looped through his and despite the fact that I’m holding Emil’s hand, it makes my heart jump with envy. But I feel a sting when I look at Lionel, too, and I realize it’s bugging me that his first official outing this summer is with her and not us, the people he’s known forever.
They walk over to us, both beaming, and I try to hide all the feelings I shouldn’t be feeling. I wonder if Lionel will act like the other day didn’t happen, like everything is good between us.
But then Catie is back from the kitchen in what seems like record time, a can of beer in hand and eyes wide as she stares at my brother. “Holy shit. You are alive.”
Lionel blinks at her. “Nobody said I wasn’t.”
“Well, I haven’t seen you out in forever.” She takes a long drink. “And it’s not like your sister over here ever tells us anything.”
I stand tall and glare at her but, true to Catie’s statement, keep my mouth shut.
“If you have something to say to me, just say it.” There’s not a hint of playfulness in Lionel’s tone.
She swigs from her beer again as she appraises him, but she doesn’t respond.
“Right.” He stares hard at her. “You’d rather say it when I’m not around.”
“Fine.” She holds his gaze, a battle of steely blue eyes. “What’s wrong with you?”
Everyone in our group is silent. No, speechless.
“What’s wrong with me? Right now it’s that I’m standing here talking to a waste of time like you,” Lionel says coolly.
Catie’s mouth drops open. “How dare you, Li—”
“Fuck off, Catie. I know what you’ve been saying. Stop talking shit behind my back.”
She doesn’t recover. Catie always recovers. And if she was impressed by Emil standing up to her earlier, she seems almost scared of Lionel. I’ve never seen her so caught off guard, her mouth still hanging open as she waits for a response that doesn’t come.
Lionel turns his back, edging her out of the circle, and behind him I see her retreating to the front of the room, still looking stunned.
“Uh, so you’re kind of super sexy when you’re mad,” Rafaela says, grinning up at my brother like he’s Prince Charming.
He blushes, returning her smile.
“What’s in there?” I gesture to the brown paper bag in his left hand to change the subject. I don’t know how much everyone understood from that conversation, and I don’t want to linger on it.
“Liquor, fireworks, cake,” he ticks off, holding open the bag so I can see.
Rafaela smiles at me, squeezing my brother’s arm. “All the essentials.”
“Cake?” Emil peers down. I look, too. The cake is from a grocery store, round and covered in a plastic dome. The icing is thick and white, decorated with holiday-themed sprinkles.
“Wait.” I look at my brother. “Where’d you get fireworks?”
He waves his hand back and forth a few times. “I don’t know, some stand I passed on the way home from Boyle Heights.”
“What were you doing in Boyle Heights?”
They ignore my question as Rafaela tugs on his arm. “It’s dark out,” she says, and when I look over her eyes are shining. But not like she’s been drinking—more like she’s fueled by the mere presence of my brother. “We should start setting it up.”
“Setting what up?” I ask, looking back and forth between the two of them.
Rafaela grins at me. “Don’t look so worried, Little.”
“Don’t call me that,” I snap. And I look to Lionel to see if he will back me up, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s preoccupied, digging in the bottom of the paper bag.
Rafaela just keeps grinning and starts to drag him away, toward the back of the house. But not before she says to me, “You don’t have to be so serious. It’s the Fourth of July!”
I watch them until they disappear completely, and I can feel Emil watching me, but I don’t look over. He leans in close and asks if I’m okay. I say yes, but both of us know I’m lying.