She smiled at me. ‘Right. Ava! Go get clean chef’s coats for everyone.’
‘Heard.’ She turned and left.
‘We’re not doing croquembouche, Tommy. It’s very pretty to look at, but it’s still just a cream puff.’
James turned to Kevin and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, ‘What did she just call Bahama Mama?’
Roni turned to him. ‘James, you’re onmyside of the line tonight, so you cut the shit, you hear me?’
‘Yes, Chef,’ James said, his cheeks turning pink.
‘So what are we doing?’ I asked. Ava returned and handed out chef’s coats to everyone – including Grant, who put it on without question.
Roni buttoned hers up and smiled brightly. ‘Baked Alaska.’
Grant’s video turned out great. So with my letters of recommendation, an essay and a supplemental video, I managed to get my La Mère application in a few weeks before the deadline. Unfortunately, I still had to wait until mid-to-late April to get my final answer.
The first Saturday night in April, Ava dragged me to a party at Charlie Matthews’s house – Charlie being the captain of the hockey team. Apparently, the hockey team had won some big game that morning, and this was a celebration. Which explained why Ava hadn’t planned for the party until after she had seen James at work.
James, who was over by the keg Charlie’s brother had bought. The heteronormativity in the air was thicker than the smoke from the bonfire keeping me warm.
The anger was keeping me slightly warm as well. Ava had asked me to take her here because she wanted a sober ride home and knew I couldn’t drink. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t taken one of my painkillers in two days. My mom’s horror stories about the time she’d spent as a substance abuse counselor before moving on to the much more subdued job of Sunset Estates activities director kept me in check. I know it would probably take years of mixing drugs and alcohol before destroying my liver and bleeding internally, but I wasn’t exactly prepared to risk it.
So Ava got to have fun while I sat by the bonfire wishing we were in her basement eating greasy pizza and watching reality TV like she’d originally promised me we would be doing. But since I was her DD tonight, I did manage to guilt her into being my prom date. She kept saying she didn’t want to buy a dress for a dance when she didn’t even like dancing. But she’d finally admitted that she’d have FOMO if we skipped it.
I took out my phone and scrolled through my social media, trying to find something more interesting than the third run-through of the hockey game James was shouting out.
‘Hey.’
I looked up to see Brad Waldorf standing above me. He wore a shearling-lined denim jacket that looked like it would burst at the seams if he bent an arm too quickly. Beer foam spilled over the top of his red Solo cup, and he switched hands, flicking it away.
‘Hey, Brad. Congrats on the win.’
‘Thanks.’ He glanced around us, checking that we were pretty much alone. ‘Can I sit?’
‘Yeah, go for it.’
He took the chair to my left, probably so he could keep an eye on everyone else by the keg. Make sure he knew when to stop talking if someone came over. Brad sipped his beer, sucking the foam mustache away with his lower lip, then pointed at my hand.
‘What happened?’
He hadn’t heard by now? I had seen him eyeing the bandage in biology class and the hallways at school, but maybe he hadn’t thought to ask James or anyone else he knew from Sunset. Maybe because that would open up the question ofWhy do you want to know about Tommy?
‘I was at work. Sharp knife plus slippery lemons equals digit amputation.’
His eyes went wide. ‘You cut themoff?’ I made a chopping motion with my arm. ‘Are you okay? Are you going to be able to use them anymore?’
‘I started physical therapy last month. We’ll know if everything is back to normal in a few months.’
‘I’m sorry, Tommy.’ I shrugged.
‘Do you want a beer?’ he asked. ‘I can get you one.’
‘No, thanks. I’m Ava’s DD.’ I turned, scanning the crowd on the back patio. Ava and Morgan were alone in the corner, talking conspiratorially.
Brad nodded and rubbed at his leg with his free hand, like he was nervous.
‘You okay?’ I asked.
