The text from Chloe was a seismic event in my otherwise predictable Saturday.
Chloe: Party at Sarah Jenkins’s house tonight. You should come.
My thumbs hovered over the screen. A party. At Sarah Jenkins's house. That was solid Jake-and-Chloe territory, the inner sanctum of the popular crowd. Going felt like crossing a border into a foreign, potentially hostile, nation.
Maya: My parents are out. Horror movie marathon in the basement? I got the extra-spicy noodles.
I had a choice. The familiar comfort of Maya’s basement, the safety of our shared world, or the terrifying, glittering unknown of a party with Chloe.
I typed back to Maya.
Leo: Can’t. Got a thing. Family stuff.
The lie tasted sour. I told myself it was to avoid a complicated explanation. But deep down, I knew it was because I was ashamed. Ashamed of how much I wanted to go, and ashamed of knowing Maya would see right through me.
The party was everything I’d imagined and worse. The bass throbbed through the floor, the air was thick with the smell of cheap beer and perfume, and everyone seemed to know a secret handshake I hadn’t learned. I stood by the snack table, apermanent fixture of awkwardness, clutching a red solo cup of warm soda.
Then I saw her. Chloe, in a shimmering top, was pulled into the center of the room by Jake to dance. He was loud, possessive, his hands on her waist as he shouted along to the lyrics. Chloe was smiling, but it was her cafeteria smile—bright, polished, and not quite reaching her eyes.
Our gazes met across the room. Her smile faltered for a second. Then, she said something to Jake and extricated herself, weaving through the crowd toward me.
“You came,” she said, a little breathless. Her cheeks were flushed.
“I came,” I echoed, feeling like an idiot.
“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” she said, gesturing at the chaos.“Sometimes I feel like I need a map.”
“Or a translator,” I joked weakly.
She laughed, a real, unguarded sound that cut through the noise.“Exactly.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping.“Want to get some air? It’s suffocating in here.”
We slipped out through the sliding glass doors into the cool, quiet backyard. The silence was a relief. We sat on a wooden swing, the chains creaking softly.
“Thanks for coming, Leo,” she said, her shoulder brushing mine.“It means a lot.”
“Why?” I asked, the word out before I could stop it.
She looked down at her hands.“Because when I’m with you, I don’t have to be‘Chloe, the cheerleader’or‘Chloe, Jake’sgirlfriend.’I can just be… me. The one who likes Salinger and takes pictures of puddles.”
My heart was hammering. The space between us on the swing felt charged, electric. The air smelled of her perfume and damp grass.
“Chloe, I…”
The back door slammed open. Jake stood there, his frame filling the doorway, his expression dark.
“There you are,” he said, his voice a low growl. He strode over, his gaze flicking from Chloe to me with open contempt.“What’s going on out here, Madsen? Giving her a private math lesson?”
“We were just talking, Jake,” Chloe said, her voice tight.
“Right. Talking.” He reached down and grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet.“Come on. People are looking for you.”
He didn’t look at me again. He just led her away, back into the noise and the light, leaving me alone on the swing in the dark.
I drove home, the ghost of the moment on the swing haunting me. I’d been so close. I pulled out my phone, my finger hovering over Maya’s name. I needed to talk to someone. I needed to talk to her.
But it was 1 a.m. It was too late.
A new text notification popped up. It was from Chloe.
