“I know I shouldn’t say anything,” he said, his consonants a little fuzzy from the gin, “but Liv is literally the only person who could ever play Vi. I mean, it was obvious, right, how much better she was than everybody?”
Dave looked down at me and raised his eyebrows. Up close, his eyes were a deep hazel green, flecked with copper. “She’s, um, very talented,” he said, going back to examining his beer.
“She’s our generation’s Angelina,” Ethan said earnestly. “Only hotter.”
“Shut up,” Liv said, but I could tell she loved it. Hell, I probably would have eaten it up, too, if I’d had someone chasing me around all day telling me I was just a younger, cuter version of Kerry Washington.
“There’s someone here to see you,” I interjected, shouting over the deafening squeals that had erupted from the dancing girls as an old-school reggaeton track came on. “Where have you been?”
“Liv was just showing me around,” Dave said. “Introducing me to what seems like the entire school packed into eight hundred square feet.”
“It’s actually twelve hundred, but there are some rooms I don’t let anyone go in,” Liv said. She bounced along with the music, chugging her drink. I hadn’t seen her in a while, but I figured it had to be her fifth or sixth of the night. I handed her my water.
“Drink this,” I said. “Pace yourself.” She rolled her eyes, but took a sip.
“Hey!” A hand reached over me and tapped Liv’s bare shoulder. Dante. I’m ashamed to say I was actually relieved. You followed sheepishly behind him.
“You’re here!” she cried.
“You’re looking beautiful as always,” Dante said with a sly smile. “So, you wanna go . . . talk for a minute?” Ethan blinked at him angrily.
“Yesssss,” she slurred, squeezing past us. “I’ll be back!” she trilled as she led Dante toward the hallway.
“Who the fuck is that guy?” Ethan grumbled.
“My cousin,” you said, side-stepping to avoid getting sandwiched by Lolly and Maple, who were energetically body rolling in your direction. “He’s . . . leaving soon.” You watched Liv and Dante go into her parents’ bedroom with a pained look on your face.
“What are they doing?” Dave asked, seeing your expression and looking a bit stricken himself. I glanced over at the door; the two guys Dante had brought with him were still standing there, staring at their phones. They were acting like bodyguards, but they definitely didn’t make me feel safe.
“You never know what Liv is up to,” I said, feeling an immediate pang of shame at the intentionally misleading innuendo.
“Should I go check on her?” Ethan asked.
“Nah, man, I will,” you said. “I guess it’s my problem now.” You ran your hands through your hair and started off after them, leaving me with the Olivia Gerstein Appreciation Committee—of which I was, at least temporarily, no longer an active member. Dave kept his eyes trained on the ground, and I knew it was only a matter of seconds before Ethan launched into either an ass-kissing reverie or belligerent diatribe, neither of which would do anything to diffuse the tension. So I did the only thing I could think of. I went boring, and I went hard.
“So . . . what neighborhood are you in?” I asked Dave.
“What?” He looked surprised, like he had only just noticed I was there. My heart sank. “Oh, um, Upper West. Eighty-fourth and Broadway,” he mumbled. “Pretty quick ride from here on the 1.”
“Cool,” I said. “I’m uptown, too—Morningside Heights.”
“I hate you both,” Ethan groaned.
“He lives on Staten Island,” I explained.
“Yikes.” Dave winced. “That’s got to be a rough commute.”
Ethan laughed bitterly. “Well, if you’re legally emancipated, I would make an excellent roommate . . .”
“Sorry,” Dave said, not sounding remotely sorry. “I live with my family. Too much family, actually. So if you want to take one of them off my hands, maybe we can trade.”
Ethan blinked and pushed up his glasses. “But wait, aren’t you an only child?”
I cringed as I watched Dave realize how much homework we’d already done on him. He nodded and drained his beer, doing a quick sweep of the room, like someone looking for the nearest emergency exit on an airplane. “It’s a long story,” he said.
“Cool. So what’s your plan for next year, man?” Ethan pressed, apparently drunk enough to completely ignore social cues.
“Don’t know yet,” Dave said.
“Did you apply anywhere? Like, Juilliard, or—”
“Nope.”
“Liv’s taking a gap year, too,” Ethan nodded. “I already got in early decision to the Tisch dramatic writing program, so.” He stared at Dave, waiting for an impressed reaction.
“You know . . . I think I’m gonna head out,” Dave said, glancing down the hallway to where you were standing outside Liv’s parents’ room, jiggling the obviously locked doorknob. Admittedly I’d never seen a drug deal go down, but it seemed like too much time had passed. I hoped Liv wasn’t messed up enough to make an even worse decision than inviting Dante in the first place. Or to not make a decision at all. But then you caught my eye and shook your head: I got this. I let out a breath and turned back to Dave.