Maybe we’d be able to manage being friends after all.
So, a “few” people turned out to be closer to a hundred or so. Apparently it’d spread around the grade that the Lost and Found was the place to be that Friday night. I had more than a slight inkling it was down to the basketball guys. I wondered what it’d be like to have that kind of power? To be able to decide what people you barely knew did with their lives, just by doing it yourself?
Sayid and Emerson were a tiny bit nervous when they saw the crowd. And by that I mean Sayid had made a genuine attempt at backing out due to homework commitments he’d forgotten about until that very second, and Emerson was shaking so hard he spilled half his water bottle down his front when taking a drink. Izzy was loving every second of it, though. She spent the half hour before the set running back and forth to report back on how much the audience had grown, her eyes alight. She had good reason to be excited. Being able to draw a crowd would do wonders for the band’s rep. We were unlikely to struggle finding a host for the next gig now. The Lost and Found would probably make more on soda and bar snacks tonight than they’d bring in the rest of the week combined.
Before I knew it, it was time to begin our set. Thankfully, Emerson and Sayid got over their nerves once we were onstage. Actually, that’s not even giving Sayid enough credit. For all his freaking out, he belonged on the stage in a way I never saw in practice. He moved around seamlessly between the keyboard and the center mic, jumping about the place, joining me and Emerson, and engaging the crowd. I was pretty sure the music was the opposite of what 99 percent of the crowd would choose to listen to, but it was hard not to be entertained by Sayid.
As for me, I didn’t mess up. Much. Maybe a note or two, but nothing noticeable. At any rate, I threw zero people off, so I considered it a resounding success. Thankfully, Mom and Dad raised me to aim low, to encourage a healthy contentment in hitting par.
Then, suddenly, it was over. A few minutes of packing up our instruments, and we were walking out to join the growing crowd while a DJ set himself up.
Juliette flung her arms around me as soon as I came out. “Ollie-oop, that was so good. Holy shit! You’re like a freaking rock star, you know that, right?”
“That was really great, Ollie,” Niamh chimed in, touching my upper arm. Her voice was softer than usual, and her eyes seemed heavy and tired. The problem with going out on a school night, I guessed.
“Spectacular,” Lara deadpanned, hanging back. As usual, I had no idea if she was being sincere or not. Probably not.
The girls all had glasses of soda, and Juliette passed me one. Lara glanced at the bartender, and turned aside to let me see her pocket. I saw a flash of a silver bottle. “Want a little something to celebrate?” she asked.
Of course. I wondered if they were all drinking, or if it was just Lara. Not that she was likely to be the only one in here with a flask. “No, thanks,” I said tightly. Tightly, because I knew what her reaction would be.
She rolled her eyes without even trying to hide it. “Why do I bother?” she muttered to herself.
“Take it slow, all right?” Juliette said to Lara. “They’ll kick us out if you get messy.”
“Yes, Mom.”
Matt and Darnell came over to talk at that point, and while Lara greeted Matt, Niamh shook her head at Juliette and me. “It must be nice to be able to eat and drink whatever you want, without ever exercising, and never have to justify your lifestyle to anyone.”
Juliette shrugged, but it was a sympathetic one. She and Niamh joined the rest of the others in a conversation about next week’s game, while I scanned the crowd curiously. And … yep, there she was, hanging out near the bathrooms with a group of senior girls. The redhead Lara had hooked up with at the start of the school year. Renee. I wondered if Lara was hoping to kiss her tonight. If that was why she was already drinking at seven-thirty.
Then I noticed Will had joined us, and I was suddenly interested in the conversation again. Lara gave him a mischievous look and poured something in his and Matt’s drinks, keeping things below waist height to dodge wandering bartender eyes. This would be interesting. Would Will be as eager to make up with me now that his whole letterman-wearing crew were active witnesses?
“Hey, man,” Matt said to Will, slapping him on the shoulder. “Help us settle this. If you had to choose between making out with a Labrador that turned into a chick after you stopped, or making out with a chick who then turned into a Labrador, what would you go with?”
Will leaned against the bar and crossed one foot over the other, pushing his hair back off his forehead. If I did that, I’d look like I was trying and failing to emulate James Dean. Will made it work, though. “What the hell kind of conversation did I just walk into?”
“Answer the question.”
“Um … well, where’s the consciousness? Is the idea that you’re kissing a Labrador in a girl’s body, and then it turns into its true form? Or is it a girl who just shape-shifts?”
“The first one. It’s actually a Labrador the whole time and it’s like, whaaat, surprise!”
“Yeah, got it. How hot is the girl?”
“How hot is … What is the relevance?”
“Well, if I’m gonna frog-prince a Labrador, I’d better be saving a girl I’d wanna date.”
Darnell cut in here. “Wait, so if it’s not a hot girl, you’d just let her stay in a dog’s body, forever? That’s fucked up.”
“What, so you’d make out with the Labrador?”
“Fuck no, I’m not making out with any Labradors, what kind of bestiality fetish do you think I’ve got?”
The same mischievous, playful, fist-bumping kind of attitude that’d pissed me off coming from Will in class was way more palatable outside of it. I still found the cocky posture and wry eyebrow raise a bit of a turnoff, but a part of me liked how much the other guys admired Will, and the way they pounced on him the second he joined a group. It even made me jealous, in a way. It didn’t seem to matter what he said, or how terrible his jokes were, or whether he put his foot in it, they drank it up. It was just his energy. He was ineffably charismatic. Life came so easily to him.
Suddenly, the guys drifted away, the Labrador paradox apparently resolved to everyone’s satisfaction. Matt to speak to Lara, Darnell to moon over a slightly perked-up Niamh, and the others to head outside. All at once, Will and I were alone in a crowded room. I swallowed, turning red. Was he going to pretend he didn’t know me? Back away so he wouldn’t be seen with me? If he did, I decided, that was it. No more second chances.
Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets and drew closer. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“How so?”
“You looked very … different up there. Like, relaxed and confident.”
I couldn’t help it, I flushed with a little spark of pleasure. “Did I? I guess I’m comfortable performing. I’ve been doing it for years.”
He took a sip of his spiked Coke, then held the glass ahead of us. “Hey, who do you ship more? Darnell and Niamh or Lara and Matt?”
I let out a scornful noise, relaxing into the conversation. This was like talking to music class Will. Or the lake Will. “Lara and Matt? No way. She’s into someone else.”