Whenever they had this fight in front of me, I always wanted to point out that sober Sylvie agreed whatever it was had been a bad idea about 90 percent of the time. I also wanted to tell Finn that he should know better than to force Sylvie to see logic when she was drunk.
Fuck, Finn, just let her sleep it off, I would think. And sometimes I would think, You can’t argue her into being Autumn, dude. But I never said either of those things, and I’m not sure now whether I should have.
So.
At least there won’t be any happy memories plaguing me at this party.
This party is thankfully much bigger than the last one. I can tell from the cars outside. I wonder if the cop still lives next door because it’s pretty crowded on the street and the people in the backyard are not keeping their voices down, even if it’s only nine.
My goal is to have conversations with at least three people whose names my parents have heard me say before, and then I’m going home. Tomorrow, when my parents ask, I’ll say it was great seeing this person and saying goodbye to that guy, and then I’ll say I’m going to my room to pack, and I’ll take a nap.
I hop up the front steps and open the door without knocking, because it’s already that kind of party. I don’t see anyone I know, but the kitchen is at the end of the hall with a line for a keg, and I figure that’s a good place to start.
Right away, I notice Trevor Jones at the end of the line. Perfect.
“Hey,” I say as I approach, careful to stand back so that it’s obvious I’m not trying to cut in line for the keg. Maybe he’s in his own head, but Trevor blanches for a moment.
“Hey, Murphy,” he says.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing,” he says, like I’m a teacher or a cop. “You good?”
“I’m okay,” I say. “Who all is here?”
“You know, the guys and stuff.”
“Right,” I say to this nonanswer. Did Trevor always hate me and I never noticed? “Ricky here?”
“Yeah? Probably?”
The line shifts forward.
“Well, I’ll let you get your drink, and I’ll go say hi to some other people.”
“Cool!” He sounds way too relieved. He faces forward, and I wander off.
Everyone loved Finn. Even the people who Finn didn’t really like loved him because he treated everyone the same. Did people only like me because I was attached to Finn? Was having me around the cost of having Finn there too?
That doesn’t feel right, at least not quite, and I’m not going to let Trevor acting weird ruin my night.
There’s an alcove off the hallway where some girls are gathered, and I see one of them pointing to me and whispering to her friends. Chloe dated Seth from the team for over a year, and they broke up after Finn gave Chloe a ride home one night when Seth refused to leave the party. Nothing happened, obviously. It was an act of kindness, driving her home when her own boyfriend wouldn’t. But it seemed to kill her feelings for Seth. Seth acted like he wanted to blame Finn, but he could never find a way to do it.
That’s the kind of high school memory I want to live in tonight, so even though I have no idea what Chloe was saying about me to her friend, I head over. A few of the girls rush off, but one of her friends stays.
“Heeeeeeeeeeey!” both girls say simultaneously at the same high pitch.
“Hi?” In their short black dresses and matching silvery makeup, they’re suddenly giving off vibes like horror movie twins.
“How are you?” Chloe asks, as her friend—Sara?—nods in tandem to her words.
“Nothing much,” I say, which isn’t the right response, but neither notices. The way they’re looking at me is too intense.
“Yeah?” they say together, both nodding.
“Leaving for school later this week,” I offer.
Thankfully, only Sara cocks her head to the side as they both give me pitying looks.
“Yeah,” I say to the question that they aren’t asking. “Looking forward to it though.”
“Of course,” Chloe says. “It’ll be a fresh start for you.”
Sara nods.
“I don’t need a fresh start,” I say. “It’s not like I killed someone.”
After the words are out of my mouth, I try to turn them into a joke with a laugh, but that makes it worse. Chloe’s and her friend’s faces go through a strobe light sequence of reactions before settling back to pity.
“A change of scenery then?” Chloe asks. Her friend, who I remember is actually named Steph, doesn’t nod this time.