We pulled up to a large, rustic gate less than half an hour later and Ethan entered the code before driving us up a long driveway shielded by trees on either side. When the mansion it lead to came into view, my jaw dropped.
I’d been to beach houses before in Florida, but nothing compared in size to this one. It was two stories, at least a football field in width, off-white with deep-red paneling. Ethan parked his car and held the door open for me while I continued to stare.
“Come on, time to show you off.” He grinned, offering me his arm, and I hooked mine through it to let him walk me inside.
I expected marble floors and high chandeliers, I expected fancy artwork on the walls and vases more expensive than my tuition on every table, and I found all of that. But what I also found that I was not expecting was a full-blown house party. The music blaring from the DJ set up in the far corner of the massive living room was deafening, lights streaming from his table across the crowd of students. It looked like a club in the space that had been cleared out in front of his table and the rest of the house was packed with different groups of people talking, playing drinking games, or doing drugs.
“Wow,” I breathed.
Ethan ran a hand over his barely-there buzz cut as he followed my eyes. “Yeah, I guess I forgot to mention it gets kind of crazy out here.” He looked back to me, at my stunned expression I’m sure, and grabbed both of my hands. “Are you okay? We can ditch. It’s fine, really.”
“No!” I said too quickly, but we both just smiled. “I’m excited to be here. It looks… fun.” It was hard to hear my own voice over the music, so I leaned in a little closer to Ethan. He kissed me, short and sweet, and then we joined those in the kitchen filling up red plastic cups.
It really was something attending that first party. Sure, I’d snuck into a few Palm South University parties over the summer, but this? This was on a whole other level. This wasn’t some frat party, though it had many of the same elements. No, this was an elite college party. I was fascinated, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little out of place.
I did a lot of looking around for the first hour, hanging onto Ethan’s arm as he walked around to different groups. Everyone knew Ethan, mostly because of his position on Student Government, and it was magical watching him talk to so many diverse groups of people. He just clicked with everyone.
I joined him for a few dances in the middle of the makeshift dance floor before the music and the heat inside got to be a little too much. It wasn’t that I wasn’t enjoying myself, because I was, but I just needed air — a little silence — a little calmness.
“I’m going to step outside for a sec,” I screamed over the music into Ethan’s ear. He nodded and I kissed him on the cheek before pushing my way through the crowd. I passed a coffee table lined with four lines of coke and tried not to stare as four eager girls made them disappear to a roar of applause around them.
This was definitely not a PSU party.
As soon as I shut the sliding glass door behind me, it was like shutting off the entire world. Silence. Beautiful silence.
I actually sighed, taking one deep inhale of the salty air before turning to find one of the most beautiful pools I’d ever seen. It was just below the balcony where I stood and was set in gray rock, with a swim up bar to the left side. There was a waterfall just above the bar, and a mini bridge that connected the two sides of the pool. To the right, it had the illusion of completely dropping off into the ocean that lay spread out below it. The moon was bright that night, and it lit up the ocean in a straight line that continued through the top of the pool to the exact spot where I stood.
It was odd. Everyone was dressed for a pool party, but not a single soul was actually in the pool.
“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?”
I probably should have jumped at his voice, but I think my body already knew he was there. It was buzzing, just slightly, like when in the presence of a ghost.
Jamie leaned over the railing to the right of the sliding glass door I’d just exited, his back to me as he lifted his beer bottle to his lips. I slid up beside him, resting my elbows on the lip of the rail to mirror his and breathing in a deep inhale. The air was so fresh in California, so light. It was warm and salty just like Florida, but it didn’t have the same weight.
“It is,” I finally answered, turning to face him. I always loved that, the first sight of him, the first hit. It was a little jarring, like a slight burn, but the aftertaste was smooth, welcoming, like an old friend calling me home. “So you’re acknowledging my existence now?”
He tipped the bottle again with a shrug, but his eyes hadn’t left the ocean yet.
“Stop being a brat, Jamie Shaw,” I said, sipping on my own drink. He smirked then, I saw it out of the corner of my eye.
“I can’t believe you just called me a brat.”
“I can’t believe you’re acting like one.”
“How so?” he asked, finally facing me. He was on the defensive, but the line between his brows vanished once he really looked at me. I fought the urge to shield myself as his eyes trailed a fire down to my chest. I knew the top had paid off because he swallowed, eyes heated, and I suddenly wondered why I’d wanted that attention. I had a boyfriend, and yet this was it — this was the exact reason why I’d shelled out fifty bucks for a bathing suit top. For the look Jamie was giving me now, for the rush I felt along with it.
“By ignoring me for the past month,” I whispered, my voice failing me in my time of need, but it was enough to snap his attention back up to my face.
He scoffed. “I haven’t been ignoring you. I’ve been busy. And I figured you probably were, too.” He didn’t finish that sentence, but I knew what he wanted to say was that I was probably busy with Ethan. He took a long swig from his bottle before bracing his elbows on the railing again. “How are you liking San Diego?”
I hated this conversation. It sounded forced, like two strangers instead of two people who used to share the deepest secrets. “It’s fine. I haven’t really seen much,” I replied flatly, one hand on the rail and the other on my hip as I remained facing him.
“Ethan’s not showing you around?” I didn’t miss the slightly mocking tone when he spoke Ethan’s name.
“He is,” I clarified. “He’s been taking me to a lot of places on campus. He’s been telling me a lot about the traditions on campus and giving me some ideas of organizations to join. I got a job at the coffee shop, too, which is great since he has the Student Government meetings there.”
Jamie’s profile was so strong against the moonlight, his jaw defined by the shadows that fell beneath it. “Sounds like you’re well on your way to becoming the senator’s wife.”
“Hardly,” I choked out on a laugh, and that finally made him look at me again. “I’m nineteen, Jamie.”
“And?” he answered quickly. “Ethan is already building that life. He’s working on the ultimate plan — right positions in SGA, right classes, right internships with notable politicians…” he paused. “Right girlfriend.”
I glanced through the sliding glass doors where Ethan stood in a group, laughing, telling a story that had everyone around him enthralled. Was that true? I knew he was into politics, knew that was where his future existed, but was he really planning it all out already? Was I part of that plan?