“Our plan is to deny the possibility of rain,” Nadine says. And Xavier bangs his tray loudly, as if to add an exclamation point.
Everyone comes over after dinner, and I cannot get my mind to simmer down about this. Spending the night in Cassie’s room, with everyone. With Reid. I’m not entirely sure how to navigate this. I’m a certain version of myself when I’m around Reid. And I’m a different version when I’m around Mina’s friends. I’m not good at collisions of worlds. I feel jittery and on edge.
“This is a cool neighborhood,” Will says. “I’m jealous you can walk to the Metro.”
“It’s definitely convenient.” Cassie settles in next to Mina on the floor, their backs against the bedframe. Everyone’s leaning against something: Will and Max against the drawers of Cassie’s desk, Olivia against the door, and Reid and me against the wall. We’re all in a rectangle on the outer edges of the floor—but if we stretched our legs out, I think everyone’s feet would touch.
Will unzips his famous man-purse and pulls out a bottle of vodka—it’s the fancy kind, with frosted glass and a blue top. I have no idea how he gets all this booze. Maybe he has a fake ID. Maybe everyone does except me. I feel like I’m in a movie.
Cassie has a carton of orange juice from the Co-op, and the first thing she does is pour some into a big plastic cup. That’s Cassie’s favorite hack. If you make enough room, you can mix vodka right into the carton.
“I’ll drink that,” I say quickly. “I’ll have the plain cup.”
“Can I share it?” asks Reid, and I smile up at him. I had a feeling he wouldn’t drink.
But everyone else does, even Olivia. And it’s funny. I never really imagined myself as a person who would go to a boozy slumber party. Or a boozy house party. And definitely not both in one week. But I guess that’s the thing about being seventeen. You never know what you’ll do until you do it.
“So, guess what I read today,” Cassie says. “Did you know orgasms strengthen your core?”
“Sweet.” Max pumps his fist.
Olivia bites her lip. “I’ve never had an orgasm.”
And here’s the funny thing: when she says it, I actually feel this twinge of envy. Not because she’s never had an orgasm (which, go figure. Evan Schulmeister). I mean, it’s probably obvious that I haven’t either. And lack of orgasms aren’t something to envy. But I wish I were the kind of person who could just admit it out loud.
“Olivia,” Cassie says. “You are missing out.”
Does that even need to be said? It’s an orgasm.
“But I hear it’s like sneezing,” Olivia adds.
“Orgasms?” Cassie laughs. “Says who?”
“Says the internet.”
“Is that why you used to sniff cumin powder all the time?” Cassie asks.
“Scientific inquiry.”
Mina giggles. “Olivia, you are so cute.”
“You know what it’s like?” Cassie says suddenly. She leans back, her arm draped around the bedframe. “It’s like Super Mario Brothers. It’s like when Mario eats the leaf, and then he runs and runs and then he’s flying.” She zips her hand up into the air.
Will and Max start laughing so hard I think they both might choke. But Olivia looks reflective. “That’s sort of beautiful,” she says.
“Olivia, that’s not what it’s like. Orgasms are not like video games,” Max says.
“Oh, okay. You’re the expert. I’m sure you’re the only person in the world who’s ever had one.” Cassie rolls her eyes.
So, I’m a little freaked out. This whole conversation is making me unravel. Sometimes I think I’m the last virgin left in the entire universe. Everyone else is having incomprehensible amounts of sex. Everyone’s naked and touching and kissing. Except me. I know it’s not true. But that’s how it feels.
Will chugs his drink with a giant gulp, and immediately refills it. “Don’t you dare get sloppy drunk,” Cassie warns him.
“I’m not drunk.”
She narrows her eyes at him.
“Look,” he says, pulling up onto his feet. “Want me to walk in a straight line?”
He walks in a straight line, directly toward me.
“See. Perfectly sober.” And then he slides down the wall next to me. Right beside me—one entire side of his body is pressed against mine. And Reid’s on my other side. Honestly, it’s kind of thrilling, being sandwiched between two boys. Even though I don’t like Will. Not like I like Reid.
Will asks if Cassie can turn on some music, and then he leans in to ask me what I want to listen to. It feels like a test.
“Florence and the Machine,” I say uncertainly.
“Ah.” He nods, and it’s impossible to read his expression. This is a little overwhelming. Cassie puts on the Florence + the Machine album, and then everyone starts talking about sex again.
“Okay. I have a theory,” Reid says, leaning toward me.
“A theory.”
“Yes.” He pauses, and lowers his voice to a whisper. “I think they’re all virgins. I think everyone is full of it.”
I turn to smile at him. “Oh, really?”
He nods emphatically. “It’s a huge conspiracy. I think everyone insinuates they’re having sex, but really they’re just at home on the internet.”
“Telling all their internet friends how much sex they’re having,” I add.
“Exactly.” He smiles.
“Okay, but how do we explain pregnancy?”
“Immaculate conceptions.”
“Hey.” Will nudges me. “What are you whispering about?” And then he gently grabs my wrist and cradles it in the palm of his hand. He seems strangely intrigued by the texture of my friendship bracelets, tracing his fingertips along their knots and ridges. I feel suddenly short of breath.
“Who are these from?” Will asks.
“My cousin.” I swallow. “Abby. She’s my best friend.”
“Let me guess. She has matching ones.”
“Maybe. Definitely.”
I feel Reid watching me, watching Will, and I almost think he might be jealous. I mean, I could be imagining it. But I just have that feeling. And it’s not a bad feeling.
I am definitely, definitely a shitty person.
Later, when we settle into our sleeping bags, I’m in between Reid and Will again. And Will scoots up extra close beside me—so close that I don’t know how I’ll get up to go to the bathroom without jostling him. That thought alone makes me have to pee, urgently, but I don’t want to move.
I’m lying next to Hipster Will.
And Reid.
I don’t think my heart wants to stay in my chest.
I wake to the sound of rustling fabric—Will rolling over. Though he’s still passed out and snoring softly, his lips slightly parted, and Max is curled up in a ball next to him. Cassie and Mina are tangled up in blankets on the top bunk.
But the bottom bunk is crisply made. I guess Olivia’s up. And Reid’s sleeping bag is empty, too.
I have this sudden jolt of fear, but I try to shake it off.