Dismantle the Sun - 3. Chapter 3

3.

I didn't like any of my mother's boyfriends. The closest I ever got to any of them was an occasional "hello" and some half-assed questions about school. Nelson suggested several times that I beat them up. I kind of agreed every time that it was a good idea, but it never happened.

About a year and a half after my dad left, my mom started spending a lot of time with my middle school History teacher. Call me slow, but it wasn't until I saw him kissing her cheek in the driveway that I figured out what was happening. I mean, you just don't expect your mother to have relations with any other man except your dad. At least I didn't. I remember being real quiet for a whole week. I never told my mom that I saw, but, somehow, she knew. From then on, she started bringing him-his name was Charles-home more often. Whenever he was here, she'd keep looking at me. What did she think I was going to do? Charge out with a steak knife to carve up the adulterous couple? My mom was a divorcee. She hadn't had a wedding ring on her finger for years. But I was relieved when she stopped bringing Charles home, shortly before Christmas. Definitely relieved.

Melina had called earlier that day to remind me to be at the performance. She also mentioned a party afterwards.

"Can you give us a ride? Please?"

"Uh... are you gonna need a ride back?"

"Can you do that, too? I know you do have your morning run on Saturday too, but-just this night?" Before I could say anything, she went on. "It'd be fun, don't you think? The party, I mean."

I hesitated. I wasn't in the mood for getting smashed. But at least I'd done that sort of thing before. Melina telling me to have fun myself was probably a way of asking me to go with her, though I've no idea why she'd want to go in the first place. Well, I take that back-if you think about it, and given that Melina was Melina, it wasn't exactly surprising that she'd want to check it out but was kind of scared of the whole thing. Anyway, if she wanted me around, I supposed I could skip out on flipping through channels in the living room.

Plus, if it was theatre people going, Alec might be there, too.

"Yeah, guess so."

"Great! Thanks so much, Nick!"

She gushed a bit more, I said it was no problem, and then we hung up.

I got to the school theatre a bit early, so I spent the last half hour listening to the orchestra tune up in the pit and hoping that this would be more interesting than Julius Caesar. I also kept my eyes open for people I knew, but there wasn't anyone there in the crowd that I recognized. I suppose that meant Alec was backstage.

They'd seated everyone and were dimming the lights when I noticed two very familiar faces towards the back of the audience. It's a sign of how close my mom and I are that I didn't know I'd be bumping into her on her Friday night date. Yeah, that's what she and Steve-or maybe just Steve-had decided to do tonight: watch my high school's production of Les Miserables.

The show started. I guess it was more interesting than Shakespeare, but I wasn't really paying attention. Every so often, I'd glance at where my mom was sitting with Steve, and I'd get more annoyed. I mean, it's not that I throw a fit whenever I see my mom with her guy. I'd even been on speaking terms with some of them. But for the entire first half of the show, Steve was always leaning over to say something in my mom's ear, pulling himself so that he was halfway in her seat, and making an ass of himself. Maybe I'd have minded less if Steve didn't looked old enough to be my grandfather. My mom's the sort of woman who some people think is my sister. Steve, on the other hand, had the remains of his tangled white hair slicked back in this greasy knot behind his head, and glasses that made him look like a stuffed bird. He probably also had false teeth.

Anyway, after act one had ended, I headed to a more out-of-the-way bathroom in a different cluster of buildings at the school. I really didn't want to deal with lines, or the possibility of running into my mom or Steve. I'd just started my business at the urinal when I heard someone come in.

Someone by the name of Darius Wigglesworth.

He shuffled up to the urinal next to mine. By this time, I'd stopped expecting him to start a fight, so I could treat him as I'd treat any other kid whose parents had too much cash. I ignored him. He did the same.

A few seconds later, I finished, and went to the sink to wash my hands. I took a moment to check out Wigglesworth's ass in the mirror. He was done now, and was bending slightly as he zipped up, which made him push his ass out just a bit more. Then he turned around. It occurred to me that if Wigglesworth weren't such a stuck up prig-and didn't so obviously have a girlfriend-I wouldn't mind getting a little friendly with him. But he was Wigglesworth, and Landauer was more firmly attached to his arm than a species of alien mold.

By the time I left the bathroom, we hadn't said a single word, and, except for a glance in the mirror that was probably accidental, didn't even meet each other's eyes. Not that I wanted it to be any different. I ducked back into my special little room for act two, and noticed that my mom and Steve had vanished during the intermission. Just like that-gone.

The second act was more exciting than the first. The show in general was more exciting than most things the theatre people decided to put up. Too bad my mom missed it. It'd probably been Steve's idea to leave early. It wasn't as though he was paying any attention, anyway. He was too busy rubbing his snout in my mom's neck. That, it occurred to me then, was probably what they'd left to do. When the final scene rolled around, which I suppose was moving and uplifting to everyone else, I was just glad it was over.

Melina showed up when most of the audience members had left.

She was all smiles. "Well?"

"It's done," I said. "You can hand it to Mike to process." Mike was one of Melina's friends, a nerd who was good with computer software and an ass with hardware. Which was why I was here, and not him.

Melina looked relieved. "Then it's perfect. Everything was perfect."

"Uh-huh."

"So you're coming to the party?"

"Yeah."

"You wouldn't mind giving rides to more than just me, would you?"

"Uh... I can only fit a few other people."

"It's just me and Greg," Melina said. "And Alec. You know Alec, right?"

I felt my face go red. I was glad it was dark. It usually took a lot to make me blush, and here I was, turning into a regular tomato. "'course I know him," I said, sounding like a potato was in my mouth.

"So you won't mind?"

"No," I grunted.

"Great!" she said. I swore she was giggling on the way out.

Nobody seemed really anxious to get to that party. While Melina went backstage to mingle and congratulate everyone, I stood a bit apart and waited. The whole thing was kind of funny to watch: there were chorus members still in costume mingling with guys who were carrying violins or trombones. Every so often I'd see Melina talking or quietly cleaning up the stage. The only person missing, it seemed, was Alec.

People were starting to leaving in clumps before Melina showed up with a mousy-looking guy. That was Greg, I remembered.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Nick," Melina said. "You remember Greg, right?"

I was about say that yes, I did, when Greg butted in with a voice from hell. "So you did the recording? That's so cool, dude! Did you do the recording for The Crucible, too? That's totally wicked!" He grinned.

The last time I saw him, he'd been merely bumbling. Somewhere between then and now, he'd obviously catapulted out of the closet and had picked up every stereotype being gay had to offer. His nails even looked manicured. If we hadn't met before, and if Melina weren't there, I'd probably have told him to fuck off.

"Um... yeah." I turned my attention to Melina, but she was scanning the crowd. "Hey, Alec's coming with us, isn't he?"

Melina nodded. "He said he'd come, but he wasn't sure if he could make it."

I grunted. "Did you tell him I was giving you guys a ride?"

"Yeah. I mean, I told you that he'd get a ride with us, but not that you were giving it..." She trailed off.

"Let's go."

Melina blinked at me. "But-aren't we waiting for Alec?"

"He's not here," I said. They followed me through the parking lot, Greg chattering the whole way, and me trying at the same time to tune him out.

"It's up in the hills," Melina said, after everyone had buckled and we were off. "Which is... the other way."

"Yeah. I know."

There was a pause. "Nick, where are we going?"

"A detour," I said, but I looked into the rear view window and gave Melina a quick smile. No use in getting her worried.

"Oh," she said and frowned. "Nick, you're speeding."

I grunted. "Not anymore."

I was getting a bit anxious as I pulled around the Plaza and headed down the street I remembered from a few days ago. I figured that, since the show hadn't been over for more than ten minutes, Alec was at the tail end of his way back, if he'd been walking slowly and I'd been driving fast enough. I was aware of Melina saying my name again in a we're-going-way-too-fast tone, but I eased my foot off the gas because I finally saw him, about two houses away from his own, looking down as he walked past the olive trees.

I honked my horn. "Hey, Alec!" I shouted. His head popped up and he looked as though an alien had just landed in his backyard. I cruised up a little closer, which also gave me some time to think of what exactly to say. "Need a ride to the party?"

I was at the sidewalk when he finally stepped off the curb. "I didn't know you were coming too," he mumbled.

"Melina roped me in," I said, glancing over my shoulder. From what I saw, Melina had just finished exchanging a significant glance with Greg. "Yeah. So. You coming?"

Alec hesitated. Just one more nudge, I thought. I leaned over, grabbed the passenger door handle, and pushed the door wide open. That's all it took. I didn't bother hiding my smile when Alec went around the front and eased himself in, smiling nervously and looking even more unsure than the last time he'd gotten a ride from me. That was going to change, I decided as I stepped on the gas. I couldn't have Alec feeling uncomfortable with me when he was the person I least minded having in my car, and in other places, too.

 ---

The party was taking place in one of those big mansion-like things up on the hills. I remembered what Melina had said about Darius Wigglesworth's living arrangements, and for a moment I considered asking her if she was actually making me enter his house. But I decided I was just paranoid, and I didn't really want to mention Darius with Alec around.

"Look at the size of that!" Greg whispered to whoever was bothering to listen. "That's, like, totally three times the size of my house!"

"So who lives here?" I asked. At least there was about as much curb as there was house. I parked at the end of a long line of cars, half of which looked a bit expensive for my taste.

"I'm not sure," Melina said, a bit sheepishly. "I know it's Jase's friend, but he said we weren't allowed to know."

"That's fishy," I said, just as Greg started to hyperventilate about the size of that lawn.

Newark-where I lived-wasn't much of a city, no matter how hard the city council tried. If you went a few blocks from where I lived, you'd get to a bunch of shops the city council likes to think is "cosmopolitan." Go the other way, and you'd reach some pretty slummy houses, one of which is Nelson's. If you went up the hills, though, and pass a bunch of farms and reservoirs-California's a dry place-you'd reach these megalomaniac homes. There was a pretty bad wildfire some years back, which made all the rich folks talk about moving away, but nothing happened. I guess the they liked looking down on the rest of us too much to find a safer place to build their indoor swimming pools.

We reached the door very slowly. That was because Melina and Greg seemed to want to follow me, but I wanted to be walking next to Alec, who was lagging at the very back. Finally, a swarm of people passed us and we kind of got washed in. Some of them, I noticed, looked very much like jocks. I frowned at Melina, who was sticking as close as she could to Greg and me.

"Is this party kind of free for all?" I asked.

"I guess so," Melina shouted back.

There was a lot of noise. Not enough flashing light, but definitely enough noise. And whoever designed this house must've had a fixation with staircases, because there was a giant one winding up all three floors. The steps were packed with kids humping each other and the walls, which were covered by a whole gallery of stilted family portraits and watercolor paintings.

I looked back, suddenly worried that Alec had disappeared while I was looking around. But he was still there. I grinned. He returned it, faltered, and looked down, shy or scared or awkward or all three.

Melina found some of her theatre friends, which was the perfect chance for me to ditch the crowds. This being at a party, it was kind of hard to find a semi-private place, but I'd noticed the backyard looking pretty empty. I shouldered my way to the drinks, grabbed a couple of beers, and plowed to the back, Alec in tow.

We got onto the patio, and I let out a sigh. He looked surprised when I handed him a Heineken.

"First time?"

Alec nodded. When he spoke, he sounded a bit like he was dragging his feet. "My dad doesn't want me to drink."

"You don't have to if you don't want to. I don't wanna force you."

"Is it... obvious if you've been drinking?"

I chuckled. "Not if you don't have a lot at once and don't burp. Beer burp's pretty obvious."

"Oh," said Alec.

"Here." I took his bottle, hauled out my handy bottle-opener keychain, popped his lid and then mine. He took a sip. The face he made, you'd have thought someone had punched a lemon in his mouth.

"That bad?"

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "It's just like dishwater."

I laughed. I want to reach out and knock his shoulder. Or sling my arm over his shoulders and lean over and brush my lips against his ear. Instead, I took a long gulp of beer and felt it slide, cold and hard, into my stomach.

The backyard of this guy's house was a pretty sweet deal. There was a good-sized swimming pool, but it was covered by a tarp that looked as if it'd been there for a while. There were leaves and dirty-looking puddles all over the surface. I was willing to bet that the pool bottom would be covered with leaves, too, all clumped up and broken by the cold water.

I glanced over at Alec. We were leaning against the back wall, and he was kind of staring out at nothing. Both of us were. What're you supposed to say when you want to get to know someone for the sake of wanting to know them?

"They've a swimming pool," I said, and pointed as though it were easy to miss. "Looks a bit like a lake, doesn't it?"

Alec chuckled, but it seemed polite more than really interested. "Yeah," he said. I wondered if he knew that I meant that it was like a lake with all the leaves seeping to the bottom, or if he thought I just thought it was a big pool.

I took another gulp of beer and said the first thing that was on my mind. "My dad kind of taught me to drink."

Alec was looking at me now.

"That was when I was ten."

"Ten?"

I laughed; couldn't help it. "I mean, he showed me how to sniff wine and told me all the different kinds of beers and stuff. He didn't let me touch any, of course."

"What'd your mom say?"

"I can't remember."

"So you've been a wine expert since you were ten?"

I laughed again. "No, I just..." I shrugged. "Well, sort of..." I trailed off.

Alec nodded, as though he understood what I was trying to say. "Yeah."

I looked down at the green and white label. Heineken, with a big red star on top. It wasn't giving me any answers. "My dad also left us when I was ten." I could feel Alec's eyes on me. I went on after another gulp of beer, though I'd no idea where I was going. "I guess you could say drinking's my way of remembering him, huh?" That got a chuckle from him, though it didn't sound very amused. I shrugged. "Anyway."

I was almost through with my first beer. He'd barely gotten the water level past the neck. We were so quiet you could almost hear the people on the other side of the wall at our backs. We weren't alone enough. That's what it was. I had the sudden urge to pile Alec into my car and drive to some empty parking lot. A quiet place where no one was watching or listening. All dark, except the old yellow streetlight, the reflections on the window.

I think both of us jumped when the back door slammed open and a few girls literally raced out, giggling and followed by a bunch of shirtless guys. One of them was drunk or stoned enough to step off the patio the wrong way. Fortunately for him, whoever owned this place had thought concrete wasn't good enough and wanted grass around the pool.

"Let's go in," I suggested.

Alec looked relieved. He looked less relieved after we'd stepped inside, though. The noise level had gone up a good bit, and the smell had changed. Someone evidently decided to retch in a potted plant instead of a toilet.

The thought of toilets brought my mind to my bladder, which was in pretty urgent need of release. Beer does that to me.

"I need to use the bathroom," I said to Alec, practically shouting in his ear.

He nodded. It was on my tongue to ask him if he'd be okay with me gone, but it was the sort of thing you'd say to kindergarteners, not high school juniors.

I left. Of course, I'd no idea where the bathroom was, but I figured a house this big had to have at least six or seven. I went upstairs, since the noise seemed to have moved to down, and, on my way, got a good eyeful of the family photo archives. I guess if humans were to die out and some alien race wanted to preserve the most perfect human family ever, all they had to do was flood this house with preservatives. There were photos of the bride, photos of the groom. A bunch of marriage photos. And, suddenly, a gallery dedicated to baby. Baby on a rocking horse, baby in his crib, baby grinning toothlessly at the camera. Oh, now the first tooth. And I bet that was the first step. And then a photo of mommy and daddy with baby in the middle, smiling that shit-eating grin, as if he knew he'd won the jackpot and landed himself in the most perfect family ever.

By the second floor, the baby photos were phasing out in favor of toddler photos. Mitts, baseball uniform. Tossing a ball with dad. Canoeing with dad. I'd just turned down a hallway, which I decided was the "dad" gallery, when a few things happened: it occurred to me that baby (boy, now) was looking oddly familiar, and I nearly walked into Darius Wigglesworth, which made me realize why said boy was looking so familiar.

I think both of us were pretty startled. I, however, probably looked like I'd been sucker-punched, because I'd just figured out who the star of those family portraits really was.

Wigglesworth recovered first. "You're here, too," he said flatly.

I guess "recovered" was too strong a word. I mean, what kind of question was that? "Uh, yeah." I had to literally bite down to keep myself from demanding whether I was actually in his house. I ended up asking anyway. "You live here?"

The hallway was pretty badly lit, so I couldn't see him too well. But his face seemed to darken when I said it. "Not exactly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Now he was looking annoyed. "This is my parents' other house."

"Other house?"

"They've got two. The one in town's where we usually live. This is for the real estate."

And the fucking picture gallery, I thought. "So who lives here?"

He glared. "No one does," he said. I suppose he was going for the ice-cold tone, but I was picturing that stick in his ass beginning to sprout flowers. He'd even crossed his arms over his chest. It occurred to me that, besides the eyes and nose, he didn't really look like the beaming little kid covering the walls. Somewhere down the line, he'd traded smiles for the brooding-and-constipated look.

"D'you at least know where the bathrooms are?"

"There are two downstairs and one on the third floor, but that's off limits. The ones downstairs are broken or occupied. And there's this one here, which is also occupied." He pointed to a door to his left. "I'm waiting too, in case you're wondering."

"Didn't you say there's one on the third floor?"

"That's off limits," he said sharply.

I shrugged. "I was only saying. I mean, it is your house."

He shrugged as well, and proceeded to fix his gaze on the opposite wall. Fine. I could play that game too. Only I really did need to go pee. I considered going up to the third floor, but I decided that that was too much a bastard thing to do. I really couldn't figure out why Darius Wigglesworth was such an asshole. I mean, I knew it couldn't be about Kate Landauer; I knew how vindictive jocks behaved, and Wigglesworth was different. Maybe he was just a douche bag in general. For a moment, I felt a bit sorry for him. He probably didn't get along with a lot of people, probably thanks to the great people skills he learned at private school. Maybe that was why Wigglesworth senior had decided to send him to good old Irvington High. Sadly for him, it clearly wasn't working. I mean, who wears a tie and blazer to school every day?

"You were at the musical."

I started. "Yeah," I said. "I was doing the sound recording for Melina."

He nodded, still staring fixedly at the wall. There was a long pause. Then the toilet flushed. Wigglesworth straightened, and I realized I had done the same. After another long pause, the bathroom door finally opened, and Wigglesworth was in such a hurry to get in that he practically walked into the guy who was coming out.

I made my way downstairs a few minutes later, figuring that I'd have to have a talk with Melina about this whole unknown party place business. Not that it was really a big problem or anything. After our few words in the hall, Wigglesworth had seemed determined to ignore me, and pretty much bolted the moment he left the bathroom. Typical douche bag behavior, I supposed.

Alec wasn't where I'd left him. I picked up another beer and decided to dig a bit deeper into Wigglesworth's second house. I was halfway down a hallway when I began noticing the smell. That's right. Cigarettes and weed. For a moment, it was just like two years ago, and I was following Nelson down another smoke-filled corridor. This is my best friend Raimondi. How old are you, punk? Want some booze? His brother and his friends slapping my back and stuffing fags down our shirts, as if we were strippers at a party.

Alec was standing in the doorway next to Greg. From the look on his face, he'd spotted me before I'd seen him.

"Hey," I said.

"Oh, you're here," Greg twerped, turning around. "We were beginning to wonder a bit where you were. Oh, is that a beer? You're not-I mean, you are giving us a ride back, aren't you?"

I grunted. The smile on Alec's face, I'd noticed, seemed a bit strained.

"Having fun?"

Alec shrugged. "Yeah, it's... nice." His beer, I noticed, hadn't made any progress. And Greg was right, the little twit. One drink was the most I was getting tonight.

"D'you want to go over there?" I said. "It kind of stinks over here."

"Yeah," Greg said nervously. "Actually, Melina's having an argument."

"Huh?"

I looked. I guess I should've been expecting to see Kate Landauer after having just bumped into Wigglesworth. In fact, given the pot-smoking jock-and-cheerleader crowd, I would've been really stupid not to be expecting her. Still, I was really going to have to have a talk with Melina about dragging me to parties without knowing at all who was going. At that moment, though, Melina was busy having a very animated conversation with the last person on earth I thought she'd talk to. Greg was right. Melina, who never argued with anyone, was having an argument with Kate Landauer. Next thing you know, pigs were going to fly over the backyard, and Wigglesworth was going to ask me for a kiss.

"What're they going on about?"

Greg and Alec exchanged a glance. "Melina heard that other girl say something about Les Misérables," Greg explained. "And it wasn't very nice."

"Ah."

I frowned. This wasn't an argument Melina was going to win. She was looking pretty upset, but Kate Landauer was still looking cool as a cherry. I guess she was used to this sort of thing, being the queen bitch that she evidently was.

I figured I needed to do something before things got out of hand. But just as I was deciding what, I noticed Alec freezing up beside me. I didn't even have to turn around to figure out why. Darius Wigglesworth had just stalked right past us as though we didn't exist, and bee-lined for his girlfriend. It took only one second for Landauer to drop the frigid-bitch look, wrap her arms around Wigglesworth's neck, and plant a smug, wet kiss on his cheek.

"Oh my God, isn't that Darius Wigglesworth?" Greg breathed.

"Yeah," I said. Alec, I noticed, had edged out of sight and was receding down the hall.

"Isn't he hot?"

I snapped my head around. "What?"

"I mean-"

"Never mind," I growled. "Take this," I said, handing him the beer. I was halfway across the room before Landauer registered my presence. I was pretty sure Wigglesworth knew I was there, but if he wanted to pretend I wasn't, that was fine by me.

"Nick!" Landauer cooed, as though we were old friends. "I didn't know you were here?"

"Yeah," I said. It was rude, I know, but I wasn't there to make conversation. "C'mon," I said to Melina, patting her shoulder, trying to herd her away.

"Oh, do you know Melina?" Landauer said, big eyes blinking. "I had no idea you two knew each other. Melina and I go way back. We used to go to the same church."

"Right," I said. "That's great."

Landauer giggled. I made sure I didn't scowl, and shot Wigglesworth a death glare instead. He'd been staring at me, though I'd no idea why.

I made it to the hall in one piece. Melina was dead quiet, which meant she was somewhere between an inch and a few words away from tears. I wanted to tell her not to let what that Landauer bitch said get to her, but there wasn't even enough space to breathe in the hallway.

"Where's Alec?"

"I think he went that way," said Greg.

Alec still smiled when he saw me, but the smile was even more strained. "Do you have the time?"

Greg glanced at his watch. "Half past eleven."

"I should..." Alec trailed off.

"I guess we ought to be going, huh?" I said. I felt Melina nod. "Yeah, well." I took a last look around. "C'mon."

The night felt cold after we'd been inside so long. Alec was rubbing the back of his arms and huddling in on himself. Neither Greg nor Melina said a word. It occurred to me that the silence that had settled over us, broken every so often by a snivel from Melina, was uncomfortable and awkward, and really the worst way to end a night out.

"Hey Greg," I said, "where'd you live?"

"Um, you can just drop me off at Melina's," he said. "I live pretty close."

"Right."

It would be Melina first, together with Greg. And then I'd be alone with Alec for the drive to his house. I felt a shiver in my gut. The night had not lost all hope. I knew it wasn't anything-I mean, I knew that nothing was likely to happen. But I still felt wide-awake and alert when I'd pulled up to the curb next to Melina's house.

"Hey, Melina?" I said. "Call me tomorrow if you want anything."

She nodded. "Yeah. Good night, Nick."

I offered a grin. Melina had spoken; that was always a good sign. "G'night!"

We finished our goodbyes, and I waited until Melina had disappeared into the house and Greg around the corner before starting off. We were quiet. But it felt as though a different sort of silence had dropped into the car between Alec and me. Or maybe it was just my imagination.

"Had fun?"

Alec shrugged. I couldn't make out his face too well in the dark, and I could only take a glance or two at a time. There were road signs and little old ladies I had to make sure not to run over. "I guess so."

"You can say it sucked. I won't mind."

He chuckled. "Yeah, well... I mean, I don't think parties are really my thing."

"No. Too noisy. Too many people."

"Yeah."

We were halfway to his house by now. I was making twenty-five on a road I usually sped through at thirty-five. I'd have slowed to ten, but that'd be a bit too suspicious, or too desperate. Alec was still quiet.

"So, uh..." A pause. "Yeah, I totally didn't expect to see Wigglesworth or his girlfriend there."

"No," Alec said, almost too quietly to hear.

I wanted to have a good look at his face. All I could catch were these damn glances. What were you supposed to do when all you had were those and some half-mumbled words to go by?

We were approaching the plaza.

"Hey, uh, want to stop for something to drink?"

Alec shifted. "I'm okay, but if you're thirsty..."

I wasn't at all thirsty, of course. "It'll be real quick."

A few minutes later, we had pulled up in front of the late-night Jamba Juice. "Never been here before?" I asked. Alec was looking even more hesitant than usual.

He paused before shaking his head. "It's kind of late, don't you think?"

I felt like someone had stepped on my stomach. "Yeah." I considered starting the engine and pulling out, but I couldn't just do that without looking like an idiot. "You wanna come? Maybe you'll see something you like."

Another long pause, and another shake of the head.

"Yeah. Uh, I'll be right back."

I guess I should've expected that Alec wouldn't want to stay out too late. I mean, we'd sort of ambushed the whole party on him. I should've been glad he'd gone at all. And maybe he simply didn't want to hang out with me that much anyway. I mean, it hadn't been awful, our conversation behind Wigglesworth's house, but it hadn't been great either. Neither of us had known what to say, really, and I'd ended up going on about my dad for some weird reason. I don't know why, but it was gnawing at me, the possibility that I hadn't managed to get Alec to have a good time. Maybe what he wanted most right now was for me to drive him back without trying to strike up conversation or offer drink stops. Maybe that's what I should've done.

Alec was exactly as he was when I opened the car door a minute later. I offered him the drink. "Wanna try?" I said.

"No, I'm fine."

I shrugged and took a sip. It tasted a bit like mango. Maybe peach. Maybe something else entirely.

We were going past the olive trees when I tried again. I guess I should've gotten the message by then, but sometimes, especially if you're desperate and kind of pig-headed like me, you don't know when to stop.

"Look," I said, "I'm uh... I'm sorry things turned out so crappy, with, you know, Landauer and Wigglesworth showing up, and all that-stuff."

"No, it's... it's okay. Really."

By the last word, he'd sounded a bit more like he really did mean it. I felt some of the weight lifting off my chest.

"You won't have any trouble with your dad, will you? About being out late and all." I added when Alec didn't respond immediately, "I could pull some bullshit for you. Say we were working on the project."

"No, it's okay."

"Yeah." We were there. I killed the engine and started talking before he could do more than unbuckle his seatbelt. "Um, if you, you know, ever want to hang out or something, you can give me a call. Let me see if I've any paper..."

I reached over to the passenger compartment and groped for the latch. It was purely accidental, the touching. His knee, against my arm. The latch came away, and I muttered "sorry" under my breath as I leaned further to flip for some paper. Alec edged away.

"Here," I said, my voice hoarser than it'd been a minute ago. "Uh, d'you have a pen?" I asked, stupidly.

Alec shook his head.

"Oh. Well..." I trailed off. "Well, I'm glad you came."

"Yeah." The streetlight behind us cast a dim orange glow that caught part of his face and left the rest of him in the dark. His eyes were fixed on the top of the dashboard. I'd reached out my hand before I knew it. I could hear my heart going dum-dum, dum-dum, as if the light from the street had somehow turned into sound and was running circles in my head.

"Thanks," Alec mumbled, shifting forward noticeably, "for the ride."

"Yeah. Yeah, it's no problem."

He pushed the door open and slipped out. "Thanks," he said again.

I had to clear my throat first. I was clutching the back of the passenger seat so hard my fingers hurt. "See you later!" I called.

His house didn't have one of those motion-detector lights, I noticed. I nearly couldn't make him out as he waited. Then the door opened, and I could see the silhouette of a man backlit by a sickly sort of glow, the sort you have in kitchens, before the light narrowed to a crack and disappeared.

That left me alone in the dark and a sick, leaden feeling at the pit of my stomach. It was one thing not to have had a good time at a party and another to have fucked things up so badly that you wanted to slap yourself, multiple times. I drove off, cursing myself and wishing-almost-that Nelson would call. Then I'd be able to talk to everyone I'd ever fucked up with. This was going to be a long, long night.