Tomorrow? I heart his message, still grinning, when my phone vibrates with the pin of Wes’s location.
CHAPTER 9
I am wildly underdressed.
That’s the first thought that pops into my mind as the Uber driver snakes up the long driveway. The entrance is lined with tall cypress trees wrapped in nets of twinkle lights. I tug down on my strappy sequined camisole and frilly tulle skirt. The driver takes the final curve slowly, and a gigantic villa comes into view. It’s a pastel yellow mansion washed in pink lighting, a mansion that could easily be the backdrop for the opening of a Bond film. Guests in long black ballgowns stand on the steps as they’re handed coupes of champagne from servers in penguin tuxedos.
I’m here, I text.At least, I think I’m here? What is this place? Also, I’m starving!Even the driver is gawking, and with how his eyes keep darting from the villa to me in the rearview, he must be wondering if I gave him the right address.
Perfect. I’ll be right out, Wes responds.
The car crawls to a stop, and the driver gets up to open my door.
I climb out just as Wes appears at the top of the stairs.He’s wearing a navy suit with a crisp white shirt underneath. The top three buttons are unbuttoned, and he looks incredibly,devastatinglyhandsome. The jacket is snug against his shoulders, and I can’t help but think this could be our chance to get a do-over for prom. Our chance to rewrite the ending. The grown-up version.
He comes down the steps and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I blush, closing my eyes and inhaling his cologne. “What is this place? This party?”
“I’m not totally sure. Graham’s mom manages the villa owner’s money, I guess? In her hedge fund? Something like that.”
“Ah,” I say, like I know what any of this means.
“Freddy found out the drinks were free, so that kind of sealed the deal.”
“Sounds about right.” I laugh. “Either way, it’s incredible, but you didn’t tell me this was going to be so formal.”
“Honestly, I didn’t know until this morning. I had to run out and buy this.”
“Well, you look a lot better than I do.”
“What are you talking about? You look great.”
“I’m underdressed.”
“Nah. You could show up in a pillowcase and still be the sexiest woman in the room.”
Woman.My heart flutters. To everyone else I’m Soraya, hot mess, walking disaster, girl who had to wear a bolero in prom pictures because her parents thought bareshoulders were too adult, but Wes sees me differently.
“But if you’re worried about it, you can take my jacket.” Wes shrugs off his coat and drapes it over me. I’m swimming inside it, but the oversized look does elevate my outfit, making my sequined top pop. I relax, feeling less out of place.
“Come on, I’ll show you around.” Wes offers up his arm and I take it.
There must be over four hundred people here—the lawn is a mix of partygoers our age and older guests. A band plays on a raised stage and dozens of speakers are set up around the property. There is also tons and tons of alcohol. Every twenty feet we pass by a different open bar, with lines at each sitting at least five deep.
We walk past a black and white checkered dance floor, the kind I’ve only seen in magazine photos of celebrity weddings. A canopy of bistro lights crisscrosses overhead. The dance floor sits right next to the long rectangular pool, the underwater lighting making the water glow neon. The villa is perched high on a hill overlooking the Mediterranean, and the sea shimmers under the moon.
We walk up to a cluster of Wes’s friends, who are hanging over the terrace, drinks in hand.
“Hey, Sara,” Freddy says, giving me a half hug.
“Oh. It’s Sora, actually. And hey.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” He throws back his drink and turns to the girl next to him.
Is Freddy rude or just incredibly tipsy? I can’t decide.I turn to Wes, who doesn’t seem to have noticed Freddy’s slip-up. “Any chance we could hit up the food? I’m starving. I haven’t eaten in hours.”
“So I meant to text you back about that. I guess this is more of a cocktail party than a dinner thing? Well, other than the finger food they were passing around…” Wes stands on his tiptoes, looking for anyone still serving appetizers. “Hmm, those might be mostly gone.” Wes plucks a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing server and hands it to me, grinning. “Here. Liquid fills your stomach just as much as solid.”
