Her eyes glint like slick river stones. “Get moving.”
I shower and shave my legs while Leigh picks out suitable bonfire attire: my good cutoffs, my pink bandeau bikini top, and a black tank top she finds in Mom’s closet. I let my hair air-dry and I leave Mom a note that I’m going out.
Leigh and I cross the street to get to the beach access. One of the preteens almost mows Leigh down on her bike, and Leigh yells, “Watch it, Miley!” and the girl curses her out. Up close, the girls don’t smell like strawberries and summer. They smell like used cigarettes and older boys. I fire Your dude’s not worth it thoughts in their direction, but they’re too far gone. The thoughts skitter on the asphalt and disappear.
It’s prime beach time. We wind our way around surf-seeking dogs and little kids building sand castles and a lot of ugly tattoos. The water is flat and velvet, a faded royal blue. Above it, a faint moon is rising in the afternoon sky. My nerves bubble as we walk. I don’t know how to be sober at a bonfire. What if I need something to blur the edges, to melt me just enough? What if Wil shows? What if Ana—or Buck—
I grip Leigh’s arm and shake my head.
“I don’t think I can do this.”
“You can. And if you decide you want to leave, just give me the signal, and we’ll leave.”
“What’s the signal?” My mouth tastes like gritty sand.
“How about ‘Get me the fuck out of here’?”
“Hilarious.”
The bonfire is at the beachfront house of a senior girl named Loren. Her parents are out of town on business. The house is small, and set far off the beach. It’s a tiny tiled bungalow with sandy floors and fake leather couches shoved up against white walls. The galley kitchen is pockmarked beneath fluorescent lighting: scratched countertops, nicked cabinets. The place is run-down but comfortable, and reminds me of home. Someone puts the Allman Brothers on the stereo, a fighting song. I nod at a girl pouring vodka into a coffee mug that says WORLD’S OKAYEST DAD.
“I don’t suppose you want a beer?” Leigh asks.
“Nah.” I follow her outside. There are fire pits scattered throughout the ratty yard. One of the blazes spotlights Ned Reilly, who was informally voted Most Likely to Die a Virgin junior year. Ned’s chatting up Susan, a cute brunette girl from my freshman-year math. She’s laughing loudly and leaning in close. She spent a lot of time on her eye makeup, and it looks good. Despite his too-large teeth and plaid short-sleeved button-down, it looks like Ned has a legitimate shot at discarding that superlative tonight.
“Be back.” Leigh makes a beeline for the keg, and adrenaline overtakes me. Calm down, I tell myself. It’s just a party.
“Bridge! Hey!” Ned waves me over, and Susan sizes me up and looks unsure. She gives me a too-bright smile.
“Hey, guys. What’s going on?” I make sure not to stand too close to Ned and I give Susan a halting hug, which is weird since we don’t know each other.
“Haven’t seen you out much this year,” Ned says. “I saw your brother a while back. A couple of bonfires ago.”
“I heard.” I groan. “If I can make it through the rest of this year without killing him, we’ll consider it a success.”
“What are you doing next year?” Susan changes the subject, and I like her.
“I’m going to FIU.” I stuff my hands into my pockets. “Miami. Assuming I don’t get arrested again.”
“I have a friend who goes there actually, and he loves it, so good for you. I guess they don’t care if you get arrested, which is awesome. So.” Ned’s face turns the color of a late-August burn.
“Hey, Ned?” Susan makes her smoky eyes big. “Why don’t you get Bridge a drink?”
“Yes. Yes.” Ned looks relieved. “Beer? You like beer, right?”
“You’ve heard, huh?” I raise my eyebrows.
“No! No. Definitely not.”
I mercy-interrupt. “How about a Coke, Ned?”
“You got it.” Ned zooms across the patio and into the kitchen.
“Oh my God!” Susan shakes her head. “I swear, the part of his brain that controls social interactions needs a reboot or something! Like, I picture these frayed wires, just lying around, sparking, connected to nothing.”
I laugh. “But he’s so sweet. Are you guys—”
“He is, right?” She looks past me and smiles a little. “Kind of. I don’t know.”
I hear Ana’s laugh, followed instantly by Thea’s. My stomach dips.
Leigh slides up next to me and gives Susan a nod. “Our democratically chosen leadership has decided to grace us with her presence.”
“Democratically chosen.” Susan snorts. “Do you ever just look around while you’re at school and think I am living in high-school parody hell and I’m the only one who knows it?”
“Yes!” Leigh says. “Isn’t it so depressing? But you know what helps?”
“Knowing we’re almost out of here?” Susan kills the rest of her beer.
“Weed.”
“Aaand one Coke. Straight up. Virgin. Or whatever.” Ned chokes a little on the word virgin.
“Ned.” Susan sighs.
We decide to head out to the beach. I finish my Coke, and I’m a pleasant combination of loose and awake. In the sand, Leigh plays with my hair. Susan tells us about the gap year she’s taking before she applies to college. It’s a tradition in her family, taking a year to do community service in Costa Rica.
“The truth is, I don’t know what I want to do,” she says. “Maybe that makes me kind of uninteresting or unmotivated.”
“I think you’re interesting,” Ned says sweetly. He puts his hand on Susan’s knee and she lets him. “And smart.”
“I wouldn’t care if it was just me, like in a vacuum. I’m only eighteen, right? Who knows what they want at eighteen?” She wiggles her toes in the sand. “But in comparison, when everybody else seems to have the grand life plan laid out, it’s like shit. I’m behind in this huge race I didn’t even know I was running.”
We nod, all of us. We are tired, depleted, and we haven’t even started yet.
Leigh goes for another round of beers and another Coke for me, disappearing into the party swell behind us. It’s getting dark. Susan leans into Ned until they’re one shadow. I could lose myself here, with these familiar people I don’t actually know at all. Maybe it’s just nostalgia, but I suddenly feel a wash of regret. Disappointment that I didn’t get to know the Susans and Neds of the high-school universe when I had the chance. I’ve spent high school bombed with Leigh or wrapped up in Wil.
“Here we go,” Leigh announces. She sinks to her knees in the sand and distributes the cups.
I chug my Coke and drop back into the sand and watch the sky, the sweet liquid sloshing around in my stomach. I slide my fingers and my toes under the cool grains and watch the dark navy shift overhead. Leigh lies next to me.
“Don’t freak out,” she whispers. “But I have to tell you something.”