CHAPTER 26 (2)

Instead, he says, “Keep going.” “Are we having fun yet?” Andie asks over the music, reacting to my grin as I dance next to her. “Better than class,” I call back. I’ve never been to a bar or club except for a concert. This place, with its pounding bass and neon lights and grinding bodies, barely seems in the same category as Leo’s. If the first few days were like learning to play an impossible sheet of music, the rest of week one was like turning the page and realizing there are ten more pages, each harder than the last. After my lesson with Frank, which improved somewhat in the last fifteen minutes in that he let me finish but still said we had a lot of work ahead of us, I started sociology homework only to realize I’ve been working from an old textbook. Wednesday, Ms.Tamayo assigned us hours of film to watch before next week’s class, which is going to be nearly impossible given I’m going to Dallas for the weekend for my dad’s celebration. Plus, I narrowly avoided slipping up on the phone when we were talking about my visit. Once I get the showcase, everything will be okay. I repeat it like a mantra. Auditions are in three weeks. I need to use every second I have to choose the right piece, to work it until it’s perfect. But for tonight, it’s hard not to want to let loose and be young and alive. “You seen Jorge?” I ask Andie. “He said he’d come tonight.” He’s the only first year who seems to want the showcase as much as I do. Andie shakes her head. “But there’s Rica!” She points at the DJ booth, where Rica’s charmed her way in. I’m no closer to making inroads with her. I know she makes electronic music. Her chest has an old-style turntable and a bunch of mixing equipment. But I don’t know about her family or her dreams or anything except what toothpaste she uses. My phone vibrates in my bag. Beck: BAR. NOW. Andie and I wind through the crowd to where Jacob is holding court at the bar in a pale-purple dress shirt, half tucked-in. His dark hair is spiked, his grin wide. “Shots!” he demands. The bartender’s pouring into almost a dozen glasses, and I wrinkle my nose. Jacob passes me two, and I pass one back. “Going home for the weekend tomorrow,” I tell him. He slides back the second shot. “Your family’s anything like mine, this might help.” I grin as my attention skims the group of us at the bar—about ten from Vanier, a mix of first years we know and second years Timothy invited—my gaze locking on a familiar one a few bodies away. Timothy’s a dark knight all in black. His dress shirt is rolled at the sleeves, revealing curls of ink that trace one arm like venom taking over his bloodstream. A wave of desire washes over me before I can stop it. Electricity buzzes through me—my lips, my fingers, my bare shoulders and breasts under the backless silver halter top I bought this afternoon. Dammit, I want to know what happened when he came to New York. I want to know what he’s thinking right now. Stop wondering. I toss back the drink. The sweetness and alcohol burn down my throat, settling in my stomach with a not unpleasant buzz. The next second, Andie’s between us, an expression of shock on her face. “Jorge isn’t coming. He got kicked out of school today. He was selling uppers from his dorm room.” The comfortable warmth of the booze is overtaken by disbelief. “It’s the first week of school.” I look between Andie and Jacob. Jacob shrugs. “Sometimes you want something so bad you’ll give up who you are to get it.” My chest feels hollow. Yes, Jorge fucked up, and I won’t do that, but you can be on top one moment and back on the bottom the next. “You know what time it is, Manatee?” Jacob proclaims, and I try to refocus on him. “It’s dancing time.” “I’ll be right there. Think I need that second drink after all.” I watch him and Andie head toward the floor. When I reach for the second shot, fingers close around my wrist. I jerk my head up to see Timothy looming over me, holding a plastic cup of what looks like water. “I don’t want it,” I say. “What do you want?” I lift my chin, suddenly angry. “I want people to stop leaving. Everyone leaves.” I pry the shot from his hand and down it before taking off toward the dance floor. I’d thought once I got to Vanier the rest would be easy. None of it’s easy. Once I find my friends, I link hands with Andie and Jacob, and the three of us dance. I focus on the music. That’s what I’ve always wanted—to lose myself in its power, to be part of it. Andie splits off to dance with a guy from school, and Jacob grins at me. I move closer. My hand finds his shoulder, and he smiles. “This is a good birthday, Manatee. But I’m supposed to be helping you, not the other way around.” My chest expands. “We’re friends, right?” He nods. “For sure.” The song changes to something hip-hop, and when his hands find my hips, I go with it, moving closer. My arms wind around his neck as I smile up at him. Jacob cuts a look past me, looking bemused. “Fascinating.” “What is?” “What’s gonna happen in five, four, three, two…” Someone brushes my back, and Jacob angles his head up, hands not moving from my body. “Hey, man.” Timothy says something to his friend I can’t hear. “Girl needed some mentoring, if you know what I mean.” Jacob winks at me, and I laugh in response. But Timothy’s back at his ear, and Jacob’s smile dims. Before I can react, Jacob lifts my hand, presses his lips to the back in a move that’s somehow cheesy and earnest at once. “Thanks for the dance.” A little tingle runs through me, and I bite my cheek as I watch him head back through the crowd. “What did you say to him?” I demand, whirling to face Timothy. “He’s not for you.” He’s a foot away, a muscle leaping in his jaw. Everything from this week piles on top of itself until I’m feeling as if I’m in a different dimension than the carefree dancing people around me. “You don’t know that.” “You’re already hanging with the brother of your stepmom’s best friend when you’re hiding out here. You’re gonna fuck him too?” I blink up at him, trying to make sense of the meaning behind his frustrated words. Jacob Klaus. Serena’s Klaus , the one she mentioned had gotten into Vanier… “No.” They have different last names, but it’s too much of a coincidence. His gaze narrows, and I know it’s true. “Does he know who I am?” I manage. “He hasn’t put it together. But he will. Who knows? Maybe if you hook up with him, he’ll keep your secret.” Someone bumps me from behind, and I step forward. Timothy’s hands are there, catching me by the arm and the waist. “You didn’t used to be such a prick,” I state, angry. “You didn’t used to be such a flirt. He can’t make you happy.” His words catch me off guard. “Why not?” “Because you need someone who understands what makes you tick, like those music boxes you used to collect. Someone who knows you’re going to get into trouble, who has your back when you do.” I could pull away, but there’s barely enough room to breathe. “And that’s you?” Timothy bends closer, his lips near my ear so suddenly I can’t stop him. “It’s not him.” The truth of those words hangs between us. Since I moved here, it feels as if this new world is a dark, vast ocean dotted with sharks under the water. Timothy is familiar—a beacon in its own treacherous tide but one I know. All I want is a night to forget that I’m alone in this city, that people rise and fall in an instant, that the only boy I ever loved has moved on and so have I. The song changes again, a sexy down tempo remix of “Pretty Young Thing.” I turn but don’t step away. My shoulders bump his chest, my ass hitting his thighs. I roll my body once, twice. The friction of his clothes on my ass, the bare skin of my back, makes me bite my lip. He doesn’t move. Catching Timothy by surprise is reward enough, but I push my luck. I reach up behind my head for his neck, brush the edge of his hair above his collar. My fingertips trail along his scalp. Timothy responds so fast it makes my breath hitch. He drags me closer with strong arms. His hand splays across my stomach, and when his thumb slips under the edge of my shirt, his pinkie under the top of my skirt, he hardens against my back. Fuck. I wonder if I’m tall enough to ride this ride.