Part 13 (2/2)
”Some party,” Wally says into Hannah's ear.
”What?”
He gestures toward the back patio and raises his eyebrows in a question-Do you want to go outside?-so she nods and follows his path through the packed house.
”s.h.i.+t,” Wally says when they step out onto the porch. ”I couldn't even breathe.”
”It's really f.u.c.king loud in there,” Hannah says, covering her ears to stop the echoes of the music.
”I know. I'd much rather be back at the house right now.”
”Why didn't you say so? Maybe everyone else would've wanted to stay, too.”
”Nah. They love coming to these parties. And I don't mind them too much. I like the people watching.”
”You love people watching,” Hannah laughs.
”I do,” Wally laughs, touching the frames of his gla.s.ses. ”I like trying to understand people and how they see the world.”
”Mr. Curiosity.”
”I'm only curious about some things,” Wally says, looking sideways at her.
Hannah breaks eye contact with him. She lets out a short laugh because she doesn't know what else to do.
”Hey, by the way,” Wally says, ”were you okay today? In the water?”
The question catches her off guard. ”Oh. Yeah. I just-I don't know how I feel about Clay and-and Baker.”
”He means well,” Wally promises. ”I know he talks callously sometimes, especially about girls, but I think he really likes her, Han. I think it's for real this time.”
”He told you that?”
”Not exactly, but I can read Clay pretty well at this point.”
”Oh.”
”Are you worried?”
Wally looks so kind, and so sincerely concerned, that Hannah almost wants to run away. She looks away from him and leans against the balcony railing, touching her hands to the cold, smooth metal. ”I just-” she says. She feels the words stirring within her, threatening to come up. ”I-she's my best friend, you know? My best friend.”
”Yeah,” Wally says. ”You care about her. You want her to be with the right guy.”
Hannah says nothing. Her throat thickens with welled-up words.
”You want to stay out here for a bit?” Wally asks.
Hannah swallows. She breathes in the salt.w.a.ter air. ”Nah,” she says, shaking her near-empty Solo cup. ”I think I'll get another drink.”
The party gets wilder as the hours go on. Tyler plays a quick succession of crowd-pleasing songs, and the party swells with peak noise when ”Love Story” by Taylor Swift comes on. Everyone in the house, boys and girls alike, screams the lyrics with mad intensity, and suddenly all the girls are pointing dramatically at the boys when Taylor sings to her Romeo, and Luke's kneeling on the ground and serenading Joanie, and it sort of feels like everyone there has spent their 16 or 17 or 18 years simply waiting to sing this song together at a beach house in Destin.
Hannah tries not to watch Baker and Clay dancing together on her right, but as the song goes on, they seem to grow larger in her peripheral vision. Their hands are matched together as they sing, and as Hannah turns to see them better, Clay twirls Baker in a circle and smiles his big c.o.c.ky grin at her. She smiles radiantly back at him. Hannah's heart aches in her chest.
The song changes to a club song Hannah doesn't know, but the crowd around her shouts their approval and s.h.i.+fts easily into the beat. Hannah moves her body and gulps from her beer to have something to do. Wally smiles at her as he dances across from her, and she smiles back, fighting hard to stomp down her feelings.
But she can't ignore how Clay draws Baker in close to him and presses his forehead against hers. She can't ignore how their bodies move together and Clay's hand wraps around Baker's waist. She can't ignore how Baker seems to want it, how her hips move into his and her hand grips his upper arm.
”I need some air,” Hannah says, though no one can hear her over the music anyway. She pushes her way through the packed room, and suddenly it's like she can't move fast enough, like her heart wants to push out of her throat before she makes it outside.
When she finally reaches the sanctuary of the balcony, her heart feels so high in her throat that she might choke. She takes long, deliberate breaths and orders herself to pay attention only to the here and now: what she can see, what she can feel, what she can smell and hear. She focuses hard on the smell of the salt.w.a.ter air, on the distant moving of the ocean, but the pain rises out of her anyway.
Please. Please can you make it stop hurting it hurts so badly. I don't want it. It hurts and I don't want it. I'm trying to make it go away. Please, just make it go away, just make it go away.
But there's an ancient voice deep inside of her that knows it will never go away, no matter what she does or how hard she prays.
She would be content to stay out here all night, fighting this thing inside of her, gulping down sea air to try and clean out her insides, but some cla.s.smates interrupt her.
”Oh, sorry,” Lisa says when she and Bryce stumble out onto the porch. Bryce pays hardly any attention; he's kissing at Lisa's neck. ”What's up, Hannah,” Lisa says drunkenly. ”Do you mind if we hang out here?”
”No, that's totally fine,” Hannah says shakily, tipping her cup toward them in a pathetic, long-distance cheers. ”I was just cooling off.”
She steps away from the balcony and walks past them, but right when she reaches the door, Lisa says, ”Did you see your girl Baker making out with Clay on the dance floor? How cute are they! You have to tell her I said how cute they are.”
”Yeah,” Hannah says, fighting hard against the pain spreading over her heart. ”I will.”
She can't find her friends when she reenters the house. She circles the makes.h.i.+ft dance floor, searching for Baker's dark hair, for Wally's gla.s.ses, for Joanie's neon headband and Luke's messy curls, even for Clay's c.o.c.ky smile, but none of them are there.
She disappears up the steps to the second floor, slinking in the darkness like a thief, hoping no one notices her. Her body feels loose with alcohol but her heart feels tight with pain.
She finds them in a bedroom off the main landing. Wally, Joanie, Luke, and Clay sit with their backs against white furniture pieces. They beam up at her when she opens the door, and the relief she feels is so sudden that she almost yells at them.
”Where the h.e.l.l have you been?” she says.
”Um, h.e.l.lo, I think it's pretty clear that we've been in here,” Joanie giggles.
”Where's Baker?”
”She went looking for something...or someone...I don't remember,” Clay says, tapping his head back against a dresser, a drunken grin plastered on his face. ”But don't worry,” he says, waggling his eyebrows, ”she'll be back.”
”Where were you?” Wally asks.
Hannah doesn't respond at first: she's too preoccupied with Clay's insinuation. After a pause, she sits down and mumbles, ”Porch.”
”Speaking poetry to the stars,” Joanie sighs dramatically.
”Shut up.”
<script>