You’d imagine no one would take the risk, yet here we are.
Really, though, it’s not like the cops would show up. Jasper’s house has a solid half mile of winding, brick-lined driveway from the ten-foot-tall iron gates out front and he’s stationed two freshmen from the soccer team to stand guard. Plus, this place sits on about six acres, set high on a cliff over the lake. His parents are out of the country and there are so many trees on either side of his property that you can’t even see the neighbors, let alone hear them.
Although everyone in North Shore does well, Jasper’s folks are extra rich. Super rich. Fuck-you-rich. Lucky-sperm-club rich. If anything were to happen, his dad would be on the horn with his BFF (the governor, natch) and that would be it. Non-issue. Membership has its privileges. Plus, his family’s, like, beloved. They spend all their time flying around the globe, doing stuff like building wells for developing countries. But I wonder if Jasper would be less of a JasHole if they ever spent time any time here?
I’ve been nursing the same vodka and diet cran since I got here. I’ve had, what, two sips? Mostly I’m just holding the glass so the JasHole’s not all, Mallory, why aren’t you partying?
I’m so not into this.
Noell, a midfielder on my team, comes up to me, throwing an arm around my neck. She’s so enthusiastic that she practically puts me in a chokehold. Her auburn hair is parted down the middle and coiled into two matching buns on top of her head. She smells like artificial peaches. I can’t tell if that’s from her body lotion or her gum. She starts singing right in my face and I can practically see down her throat. I wonder why her parents didn’t spring for the white porcelain fillings instead of the metal ones? Why buy your kid new boobs and then cheap out on her smile?
Noell finishes her drink and tosses the empty cup over her shoulder. I’d be all, Were you raised in a barn? except that’s what everyone else is doing, too. Jasper’s house is trashed and I mean that literally. Bottles and cans litter the floors and there are random pizza boxes and McDonald’s bags everywhere. All this garbage can’t just be from tonight. How long have his parents been away?
A framed, signed Stan Mikita hockey jersey hangs crooked on the wall and there’s stuffing coming out of one of the leather club chairs. The cabinet doors on the built-ins hang open, one of them off its hinges, with hundreds of DVDs and Xbox games spilling out across the floor. Looks like a Best Buy after a Black Friday riot.
Unprotected discs are all over the place—on the carpet, stuck in the drywall, peeking out from beneath the pool table—although the bulk of them seem to have landed in the plastic basket that’s half-full of dirty(?) clothes, like a game of indoor ultimate Frisbee broke out at some point.
For a moment, I wonder who’s going to put this place back together before his parents return from Prague. Then I remember the Jaspers of this world always have someone around to clean up their messes for them.
Noell howls along to the song. Yeah, girl, you do drink too much and you are wasting your Friday night.
I raise my Solo cup and pretend to take a sip before extricating myself from Noell’s monkey-grip. Satisfied with our interaction, she grand-jetés over to Spencer, the team goalie. Those two hop up onto a coffee table, where someone hands Noell a fresh glass of something orange. They begin waving their cups around as they dance and shout. Despite the freezing temps, they’re both in tiny tanks and miniskirts, their feet bare. I’m wearing leggings and a turtleneck and a sweater and Uggs and I’m still frigid. They begin to grind on each other, less because they’re bi, and more because they’re thirsty for attention.
I can’t help but roll my eyes.
A couple of water polo guys notice—both named Jasper—and start pitching cups at them. Spencer handily deflects each one without spilling a drop of her beer. Her quick reflexes are why we’re going to crush Naperville North next Wednesday.
So there’s that.
How can everyone cut loose right now? How are they ready to resume their normal lives? How are they not awake all night, every night, trying to figure out why Braden might have done it? He was friends with everyone here. How are they happy? How is that possible? He’s gone. And it’s only been a few weeks. They’re just doing keg-stands and pounding shots and dancing on tables, like nothing happened.
How are they not consumed with regret?
Regret for not having seen the signs.
Regret for not being a better listener.
Regret for being too much of a chicken-shit, for getting so wrapped up in appearances, for wanting to make hashtag BarbieandKen happen so badly that I never indicated that his crush was reciprocal.
Goddamn it.
Maybe vodka is the answer.
I take another drink but can’t even enjoy it because I didn’t budget for the calories and I’m too tired to do extra crunches when I get home.
As if trying to deal with losing Braden weren’t enough, our applications for early decision are due in a couple of weeks. Why is everyone screwing around in Jasper’s game room when we should be working on our essay questions? Who fucking cares if his dad owns an arcade’s worth of vintage Ms. Pac-Man machines? Liam was so psyched to play them, but I was like, “Uh-huh. Be sure to mention all the bananas your avatar ate on your Common Application, ’cause that’s impressive.”
He didn’t even reply; he just walked away. He keeps pretending to hobble around me, too, like he’s in oh-so-much pain. He’s only doing that to get out of stuff that’s hard or boring. Or maybe he’s been trying to get my attention because I’ve been so focused on unraveling Braden’s reasons.
Whatever.
I’ll be submitting my app as soon as I write my personal essay for Princeton. I already completed my whole Common Application and took my ACTs and the two SAT subject tests. I hit the top ninety-sixth percentile in each, yet my mother wanted to know why they weren’t higher. I told her I could show her the math behind the percentiles, but someone who went to Arizona State might not understand.
(She was furious, but at least I made Theo laugh.)