“It’s me,” I say with a small smile, suddenly feeling alone even though I’m surrounded by the people I used to spend every weekend with.
Emil has drifted away a few feet, talking to his best friend, Justin, who’s laying out rows of burgers and chicken breasts and soy dogs on the grill. All of us have known each other since middle school, but as soon as DeeDee transferred into our high school freshman year, I became closer to her than anyone. And I don’t think it’s my imagination that they’ve all seemed even more distant since I went away. We hung out during winter break, but they had private jokes that I wasn’t a part of and new friends I didn’t know, and I couldn’t keep up with who was dating or fighting. It seemed like a totally different crowd.
Maybe I’m different to them, too. Not just because I went away, but because I’ve never talked openly with them about Lionel’s illness. But really, was I supposed to tell them everything I shared with DeeDee, the person closest to me besides my brother? That I was scared and worried for him, and angry that I’d been forced to leave my life here?
“You seem upset.” Catie is wearing a black cotton shirtdress and floral combat boots, and when she raises her eyebrows at me, I notice the electric-blue color smeared across her eyelids. “Are you upset?”
“I’m not upset.” I stifle a sigh because that would only prove her theory—which, by the way, is there a reason Catie Ransom of all people is analyzing my mood? “I can’t get over this stupid jet lag.”
“Cry me a fucking river, Suzette.” Ah, there’s the Catie I know, switching from concerned to vicious in mere seconds. “I’d give my left tit to go live across the country for most of the year. You do realize how disgustingly mundane it is being stuck here?”
“We don’t live in some podunk town,” I say, shaking my head. “L.A.’s worst day is still better than Avalon on its best.”
Catie rolls her eyes and clomps away, muttering, “Whatever. You’re still so ungrateful.”
“Hey, Suzette, want to hear this new thing I’m working on?” Tommy asks, running his fingers gently over the guitar strings. “I started it a couple of months ago.…”
“Um, I was just going to find DeeDee,” I say, but the question was only a courtesy because Tommy is already strumming away, singing with the heart of someone performing in front of thousands. I slip away once someone else wanders over to listen.
The empty kitchen I passed through on the way in has been replaced with a roomful of people who’ve just arrived. Most of them I don’t recognize—maybe soon-to-be sophomores or people who managed to fly under the radar my first year. One girl looks vaguely familiar; she has stringy, lime-colored hair and she’s standing next to the fridge with two other girls I don’t know. We see each other at the same time, and she narrows her eyes.
“I know you,” she says, then snaps her fingers a few seconds later. “You were at my party with DeeDee.”
I walk over to them slowly. “New Year’s Eve?”
She nods and I remember.
“That was the best party,” I say. And it was. We were on the beach and it was freezing, but we were all wrapped up in plaid woolen blankets and I shared a bottle of champagne with a group of people I didn’t know as we raucously counted down to midnight. “Hey… are you here with Alicia?”
“Technically. She ditched us for DeeDee as soon as we got here,” says a girl with big, curly black hair and the most badass tattoo I’ve ever seen in my life. Truly, it’s fucking beautiful. A collage of various flowers is inked onto her pale skin, petals overlapping with stems on top of leaves, and all of it done in the most gorgeous, saturated hues of green and blue and pink and orange. I could stare at it for hours. She notices and smiles and that’s what makes me look away.
“I, um, better go find DeeDee. Nice seeing you again,” I say in the general direction of the green-haired girl as I make my way across the kitchen.
Climbing the stairs to DeeDee’s room, I pass the same photos I’ve walked by probably hundreds of times—DeeDee and her parents, DeeDee standing solo on a hiking trail, fifth-grade DeeDee with her first French horn. I didn’t know her back then, but she’s looked the same since she was a kid: long, peachy-blond hair and sleepy brown eyes and skin that burns at the mention of sunlight. Seeing her smile makes me realize how much I’ve really missed her.
A soft light glows under her bedroom door at the end of the hallway. It’s too quiet up here and I find myself tiptoeing down the hall even though her door is ajar. I lean forward to listen, to make sure she’s not in the middle of something with Alicia. Voices carry across the room, but they don’t sound intimate or angry. Just quiet and intense, and that’s pretty much the nature of DeeDee and Alicia’s relationship.
The door squeaks as I push it open and Alicia looks over, startled, alone on DeeDee’s bed. The laptop in front of her is responsible for the voices, and she’s watching whatever it is in the dark, the glow illuminating her round face. Her eyes go even larger when she sees that it’s me.
“You’re here!” She pauses the video and sits up straight.
“I’m here.” I smile at her. I don’t know Alicia well. She started dating my best friend while I was away, but she’s always been nice to me, and she would have Dee tell me hi sometimes when we talked on the phone. “Is she up here?”
“Yeah, she’s almost finished getting ready—”
The door to the attached bathroom opens at the far end of DeeDee’s room and she steps out barefoot, a silky green skirt brushing the bottoms of her ankles. She gets halfway across the room before she sees me.
“Oh my God, how long have you been here? Why didn’t you text me when you pulled up? I would’ve met you at the door. Oh my God, Suz.” She rushes forward and pulls me into a warm, tight hug.
I look at Alicia. I like her, but I wish she weren’t here, her angular bob falling across her face as she traces the music notes splashed over DeeDee’s duvet. I was hoping to have a little alone time with my best friend, a few moments away from everyone else.
Dee understands what I’m thinking without me having to say a word. Just one of the many things I love about her.
“Babe, can you give us a minute? We’ll be down in a bit,” she says, her soft voice even sweeter than normal.
Alicia nods, closing the laptop before she stands. She smiles as she leaves the room, but there’s a look she gives me. Not mean, but… curious. And a little skeptical.
“I’m so happy you’re back.” DeeDee reaches out to finger one of my dreadlocks. She’s one of the few I’ll allow to touch my hair without asking, a rule that sounds weird until you realize how many people are fascinated by black hair to the point of rudeness. “Your trip was good?”