“There we go!” Addison said, and clapped me on the shoulder—an easy friendliness that flattered; I wanted him to like me. Tyler laughed, and then I did, too. The noise of the party swelled around us.
“This is awesome,” Tyler said. “My two guys.”
From the throngs, one of the long-haired girls spotted Tyler and shouted, waving him over.
“Of course you know everyone here,” Addison said.
“Let’s dance.”
“You go ahead,” I said. “I’m going to take a moment.”
Addison charged into the crowd; Tyler lingered.
“This is okay?” he asked. “You’re having fun?”
“I am,” I said. “I like seeing you out in the world.”
“You don’t want to dance?”
“I’m happy just watching.”
“Yeah?” he asked, smiling. “You like watching me?”
“Go,” I said, laughing. “Dance.”
Tyler dodged through the crowd, joining Addison. The song ended and as the next one kicked on, Tyler threw up his arms, headtilted back, and let out a whoop. The sounds of the party expanded and contracted around me. My hands tingled. I reached to touch my face and discovered I was smiling. I never went to parties like this in college, or after—or ever. But I liked it. Tyler and Addison’s comfort in the space, in the world, maybe it was catching on. What had Tyler said that night at my apartment?Serious Professor Lausson.He was right. I’m allowed to have some fun.
My mouth had gone gummy. My bottle was empty. I needed a drink. I called Tyler’s name. “I’ll be right back.” He answered but I couldn’t make it out. He flashed a thumbs-up. I smiled and nodded. In the kitchen, I found an abandoned cup of something. I rinsed it and filled it from the tap. I gulped it down and poured another. I found a beer from the fridge and held it to my cheek, the cold soothing—I needed to go outside. I squeezed from the kitchen, back into the hallway we’d entered, and stepped onto the porch.
The night air washed over me, calming, perfect. This was a good idea. The porch was packed. More people had arrived. Tyler hadn’t been wrong, it was a mix of ages. Columbus was a real city, part of the wider world. I wanted more than Ohio, but this was better than Sawyer.
There was an empty chair in a corner, against the half-wall encasing the porch. I sank into it.
“Are you okay?” someone asked.
“Yes. Thank you.” I looked over. Two girls sat together, one with red curly hair that fell to her shoulders, the other, dirty blonde, pulled back. I realized they were on the back seat from a car—it had been dragged to the porch and propped against the wall.
The redhead noticed me looking and said, “I told her this was disgusting.”
The blonde one introduced herself—“I’m Jessie, this is Rebecca”—then pulled a bottle of vodka from between her feet. “You want? Rebecca, where are those cups?”
“I’m okay,” I said, raising my beer.
“Beer is just going to make you sleepy and cold,” Rebecca said. Jessie filled a cup and passed it to me. They raised their drinks in a toast, and I followed. The vodka seared the back of my throat. It was cheap, I could feel it in my nose, but Rebecca was right. It warmed me.
“I haven’t seen you at these before,” Rebecca said. “How did you end up here?”
“Just tagging along,” I said, “and you two?”
“We were all at OSU together,” Rebecca said. “And now we’re stuck in Columbus.”
“Rebecca’s brother lives here. Connor.”
“Red cap?” They nodded. “We met.”
“Don’t hold that against me,” said Rebecca. “He’s a complete ogre.”
“Well, he was a very friendly ogre.”
