The Upside of Unrequited

  I’m not scheduled for work on Wednesday, so I end up tagging along with Cassie to Mina’s house. And it’s slightly weird, because Mina’s parents are home. I don’t mean that her parents are weird. They’re actually really cool. Mina’s mom is a psychiatrist, and her dad’s a psychologist, but they’re the type who don’t want to be called “doctor.” Especially her dad, who almost seems like a hippie. Which I didn’t expect from a guy in Bethesda named Eugene.

  We end up making small talk in the kitchen. Mina’s mom pokes at something on the stove, while her dad flips through a stack of mail on the counter.

  “Hey, I hear you live in Takoma Park,” he says. “I did my post-doc right near there.”

  “And now they’re in private practice together,” Mina says. “Isn’t that so sweet?” She rolls her eyes.

  But Cassie nods eagerly. “It is!”

  Oh my goodness. She is sucking up to the parents, and she’s sucking hard.

  “Do you have a specialty?” Cassie asks.

  “A little bit,” Mina’s mom says. “We get most of our referrals through insurance, so we end up seeing a nice variety, but we work a lot with anxiety.”

  “Nice,” Cassie says, beaming at me, as if to say HEY, MOLLY, YOU HAVE THAT. What a cool, totally-not-awkward coincidence.

  “So, the guys are already downstairs,” Mina’s mom says, “but can I get you anything to eat? I’ve got an egg and ramen almost done here.”

  “We’re good,” Mina says quickly.

  “Or do you need some drinks to bring down there?”

  For a minute, I think Mina’s mom means booze. Maybe they really are hippies. But then she opens the kitchen fridge and hands Mina a few bottled waters.

  “Really nice to meet you, Molly,” she says. “I’m just so glad Mina’s made some more girlfriends.”

  Oh. Okay. So, I don’t think Mina’s mom was using the word girlfriend in the my-daughter-makes-out-with-this-person way. Unless she thinks Mina’s actually dating both of us. Now I wonder if they even know Cassie’s more than a friend. I mean, I assumed Mina was out, but now I’m not sure. And I feel strange asking.

  “What was your mom making?” asks Cassie as we follow Mina downstairs.

  “Egg and ramen? Have you never had that?”

  “Uh, no, but it sounds amazing.”

  “Oh, it is.” Mina pauses at the bottom step to smile up at her. “I’ll make it for you someday.”

  In the basement, the boys are absorbed in an old-school Nintendo game. Will’s perched on the love seat, jabbing a controller.

  “Is this Mario?” I ask.

  “Yes.” Will’s eyes never leave the game.

  Don’t be careful. And don’t think about Reid.

  I sink into the cushions beside him.

  “He’s scary good at this,” Mina tells me.

  Onscreen, Will’s Mario eats some kind of leaf, which turns into a raccoon. You have to wonder, sometimes, what these old-timey video game inventors were smoking.

  I let myself zone out, watching Mario leap over cliffs and sink into pipes. Zoning out feels good. I just need to step outside myself for a minute. I feel so crowded in my head. I can’t seem to shake this perpetual awareness of being Molly.

  Sometimes I’m a confusing person to be.

  My phone buzzes with a text. Abby.

  We got our plane tickets for the wedding! she tells me. And I’m bringing a plus one.

  Nick’s coming? I write.

  Yes!! AND HE’S GONNA WEAR A SUIT.

  OMG, he doesn’t have to. He’ll be the only one, I say.

  I don’t care, I want to see him in a suit. Are u bringing anyone? Winky emoji. Kissy-face emoji.

  Why, yes, I write. If by “someone,” you mean eighty-four mason jars and a zillion buttercream cupcakes

  And a handmade fabric garland, I add.

  Molly, u are pinterest af, she writes.

  I grin at the screen of my phone. Why, thank you

  But u should bring a date. You should ask Hipster Will.

  God. I don’t know what made her latch onto that. Especially when I’ve been spending so much time thinking about Reid.

  Reid’s rain-soaked glasses. Reid pushing my wet bangs out of my eyes.

  “Who are you texting?” Cassie asks, from the couch. She’s lying with her head on the armrest and her feet in Mina’s lap, while Mina makes some pretty halfhearted efforts as Luigi.

  “The fuck, Mina,” Will says. “You missed an extra life.”

  Cassie sits up suddenly. “Are you texting Reid?”

  “Wait, is this the Reid I know?” Max interjects, looking up from his phone. “Husky pants Reid?”

  I feel my whole body burn. “I’m texting Abby!”

  Her eyes narrow. “Why are you blushing?”

  “Shut up.”

  My phone buzzes again, and I glance at it.

  I notice u’ve gone mysteriously silent. I also notice there are no objections to the Will idea, Abby says.

  I OBJECT, I type quickly.

  Too late. Smiley emoji.

  I look up, and Cassie’s expression is unreadable.

  Unreadable. Even to me.

  REID TEXTS ME ON FRIDAY.

  Hey, so my friend Douglas and I are going to Medieval Madness.

  I write back, That’s awesome.

  Want to come? Smiley emoji.

  Oh.

  My heart thuds. I’m so sorry. I can’t!

  Oh, no problem, he writes.

  I’m going to a party with Cassie and Mina

  Three dots.

  Oh, okay, he writes.

  I’m sorry.

  Why are you sorry?

  I don’t know!

  But I am. And it’s stupid, because God knows what Medieval Madness even is. Something where you drink from flagons, probably. And wear tunics. Something so Reid. I really shouldn’t care.

  But I do care. It sort of ticks in the back of my mind all evening.

  We Metro to Bethesda after dinner, and Mina picks us up from the station. She and Cassie kiss in the car. Just a quick kiss, like parents do. And it occurs to me, suddenly, why they call it the Kiss and Ride.

  “So, Max’s parents aren’t home?” Cassie asks.

  “Yeah, they travel a lot.”

  “There aren’t going to be adults?” I blurt. I feel like I’m Xavier’s age.

  “Well, his sister is eighteen,” Mina says, catching my eye in the rearview mirror. “So, in the eyes of the law . . .”

  Cassie twists around to grin at me. “Stop making the Molly Face.”

  “I’m not,” I say, but my cheeks are warm. I shouldn’t be freaked out by the idea of a house party. It’s not like it’s an orgy. I don’t think it’s like an orgy.

  Mina parks on the street, at the end of a long line of cars. I can’t believe how many cars there are. I have to admit, I had no idea house parties were even a thing. I fold my arms across my chest and try to act nonchalant.

  But there’s something about tonight. Everything feels a little surreal. For one thing, it’s surprisingly chilly out. I’m actually wearing a jacket in July.

  “Molly, you look so cute,” Mina says, putting an arm around my shoulders.

  Which makes me blush.

  “I’m cute, too,” Cassie says.

  Mina smiles up at her. “You just look like you’re cold.”

  “A.k.a., you’re a wimp.” Cassie grins. She’s wearing a tank top and these short yellow shorts. She’s just one of those people. She can throw on anything and look adorable. Whereas I’m completely camouflaged in careful layers. Under my jacket, I’ve got this belted dress—green, with tiny birds on it—and a camisole, and boots.

  We’ve timed our arrival pretty carefully. It’s late enough that we’re not the first ones here, but not so late that everyone’s sloppy drunk already.

  “Should we text Will?” Mina says.

  Cassie shrugs. “Is he here?”

  “He should be.”

  Th
e way into Max’s basement is through the backyard, which still has one of those giant playhouse structures, with swings and a rock climbing wall. And it’s perfectly maintained. Even though Max doesn’t have younger siblings. Parents are funny like that.

  But inside, it’s not quite what I expected. Not that I had any idea what to expect. I guess I thought it would be more like a movie, with a beer pong table and a keg in the corner and guys in well-worn baseball caps. And yes, there are plenty of guys in well-worn baseball caps, but other than that, it’s just a normal basement. There are two Ikea-looking futons and a bunch of chairs, a foosball table, an air hockey table, and a giant drum set. The lights are dim, and there are lots of people holding red plastic cups.

  “Mina!” someone shouts. It’s a girl I’ve never seen before, and she’s ridiculously gorgeous—tall, with light-brown skin and wide hips and a very twee blue patterned dress. She nudges a fallen hoodie aside with her toe as she walks toward us. “Hey! You must be Cassie.”

  She’s talking to me. “Oh, I’m—”

  “I’m Cassie,” says Cassie.

  “This is Samar,” Mina says.

  “Oh, you’re Samar,” Cassie says.

  And now I’m wondering what planet I must have been living on, because I’m pretty sure I’ve never heard of Samar. But Cassie’s greeting her like she’s famous. I hate that. I hate feeling so utterly out of the loop.

  “Oh, well, hi! I don’t know you,” Samar says to me.

  “This is Molly,” Cassie says, with no point of reference. Just Molly. Like I’m some random girl.

  “Are the boys here?” Mina asks.

  Samar nods. “Yeah, Max is hooking up with someone, and Will—I just saw him. He’s . . .” She cranes her neck. “Oh, he’s by the booze table. Predictably.”

  There’s a desk at the back of the room that’s been totally overtaken with little glass bottles and half-full liters of Coke and orange juice. And there’s Will, pouring Sprite into a red cup, his red hair perfectly tousled. His eyes light up when he sees us walking toward him.

  “You guys made it!” He grabs my hand. “Molly, let me make you a drink. What do you want?”

  “Um.”

  “There’s vodka, Jack, rum, and gin, I think?”

  I hesitate. “I guess rum?”

  He pours a rum and Coke and hands it to me, and I realize with a start that Mina and Cassie are gone. They’ve been absorbed into the crowd. There’s someone waiting to pour a drink, so Will and I step to the side, in front of a futon. My legs are heavy with nerves, and I kind of want to sit, but people aren’t really sitting. I guess you’re not supposed to.

  Okay, so being alone with Will is making it very hard to keep my cool. Maybe it’s just Abby getting into my head, but there’s this prickling sense of possibility. It feels like something could happen between us—something other than me blushing a lot and drinking a rum and Coke with record-breaking slowness.

  “I can’t handle this music,” Will says.

  “Who is this?”

  “I don’t know. Maroon 5. That Adam guy.”

  “Ah, yes. That Adam guy.”

  Will grins at me. That’s the other thing about Will. He makes you feel like you’re the only person in focus. Like everyone else is just background noise. I’m pretty sure it’s not personal. Probably every girl who enters his orbit feels this way, at least for a moment. Still, I can see how people get swept up in him.

  It’s just so hard to believe this is my reality right now. I’m at a party in Bethesda, and my sister has vanished, and now I’m alone with a very cute boy. Well, not alone. But we might as well be. I think his calf is touching mine. I wonder if people watching me right at this moment think I’m part of a couple. With Will. That’s sort of thrilling.

  But I can’t shake the thought that I could be at Medieval Madness right now with Reid. Like there’s some alternate universe Molly drinking from a flagon right this second—and yes, it just occurred to me that flagon rhymes with dragon. And yes, I really want to text Reid to tell him. But I probably shouldn’t text Reid when I’m standing with Will.

  “You must be hot,” Will says, startling me.

  He means my jacket, but I blush anyway.

  “I don’t know if there’s a place to put my jacket,” I say.

  “I’ll take it.” He sets his drink on a coffee table.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “No, I’ve got it. I’ll find a spot for it.”

  I unbutton it, feeling strangely like I’m in a movie. Undressing.

  “I like your dress,” he says when I hand the jacket to him. “I love it.”

  “Thanks.” I can’t even look at him.

  “So, I’ll be right back.”

  I nod. But as soon as he leaves, I feel a hundred times more self-conscious. I sip my drink faster, my other arm curling across my body. It occurs to me that Will could peek at the tag of my jacket and see my size. Which makes my heart jump so high in my throat that I almost run after him.

  But suddenly, someone’s beside me. A random boy. “Hey, want to hear something crazy?” the boy says, as if we’ve known each other for years. I’ve never seen him before in my life. He’s pretty cute—kind of athletic looking, with super-short brown hair.

  “Okay,” I say.

  “So, like, we’re in this little town,” he says. “Like, in England. And there’s this big stone wall next to the street. Like, just this big-ass wall. And so we’re pretty fucked up at the time, and my dude Jones has to pee.”

  I don’t know who Jones is or why I should care about his bodily functions. But maybe this is how parties work. Maybe there’s some kind of drunk etiquette I don’t know about.

  “So he pees on the wall, but then . . .” He sips his drink again, and then says, “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “I’m gonna need a refill. You want something?”

  And I don’t know how any of this works, but I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to let strange guys fill my drink.

  “I’m fine?” It comes out sounding like a question. I hate that.

  “No worries,” he says. “So like—well, I gotta tell you this part. There were these giant fucking—”

  “Hey.”

  I look up. And Will’s back.

  “Hey, man,” says the guy.

  Will narrows his eyes at him.

  “Oh, are you guys, like, together?”

  “Yes,” Will says quickly.

  My heart almost stops.

  “Oh, okay, cool. That’s cool,” the guy says. “Okay, well, have a good night.” He chugs the last of his drink and starts to leave—but then he turns back to face me, suddenly. “Okay, I just gotta say it.” The guy touches my arm. “You are fucking gorgeous for a big girl.”

  I freeze.

  “It’s a compliment!”

  I look at him. “Fuck you.”

  I’ve never said that before. At least not out loud. It feels kind of amazing. My heart pounds wildly.

  “Whoa. Okay. Not trying to . . . whatever.” He tilts his hands up defensively. And as he drifts back into the crowd, I hear him mutter, “Fat bitch.”

  Will looks at me. “Okay, that was the hottest fuck you moment I’ve ever witnessed.”

  “Um. Thanks.”

  “Do you even know that guy?”

  “Nope.”

  “Wow. Just a random dickhole.”

  “I guess.”

  I can’t think straight. I can’t think of anything other than the fact that Will said we were together. And I know he was just trying to get rid of the random guy. But still.

  He sinks backward onto the futon, patting the cushion beside him. I sit and tug my skirt down closer to my knees.

  My heart won’t stop pounding. I take a tiny sip of my drink.

  He leans back, eyes flicking toward me, and he opens his mouth like he’s about to speak. But I cut him off with a question. And I almost don’t realize I’m asking it until it tumbles from my m
outh. “Why did you tell him we were together?”

  “Oh. Shit.” His eyebrows shoot up. “Sorry. Were you trying to . . .”

  “No! God. No. He was shady.”

  “Yeah, you looked really uncomfortable.”

  “I did?”

  Will laughs. “Yeah, your body language was like . . .” He sits up rigidly straight with crossed arms and a look of utter terror on his face.

  “I did not look like that!”

  “I mean, I thought you were going to vom. That’s kind of your thing, right? Public barfing?” He grins.

  “Touché.” I smile back at him.

  God. He really is so beautiful. His eyes are supernaturally blue. And he’s funny and nice and smart and all the other things boys should be. Not to mention that he’s best friends with my sister’s girlfriend. It would make a lot of sense for me to fall for him.

  Much more sense than Reid, for example.

  I lean back against the cushions and squeeze my eyes shut. When I open them, I catch a glimpse of yellow shorts and tangled legs on an armchair across the room.

  It’s Cassie and Mina.

  The funny thing is, Cassie’s always described her hookups in glorious detail, but I’ve never watched one happen. I’ve never actually seen her make out with someone.

  It’s weird.

  And sort of sweet.

  But mostly weird.

  They’re completely intertwined. That’s the main thing. It’s not even that they’re kissing continuously, but there’s no space between their bodies anywhere. I watch as Cassie tucks a lock of Mina’s hair behind her ear, and Mina’s lips twitch into a smile. Then Cassie says something, and Mina laughs, and they kiss again, and Cassie’s hand cups Mina’s cheek.

  I definitely shouldn’t be watching this. Though I guess I’m not the only one. At least three dudes are blatantly staring at Cassie and Mina like they’re the Super Bowl.

  The futon creaks, and I suddenly remember Will is sitting beside me. He’s tucked one of his legs up, bent at the knee, and he’s tugging at his shoelaces. And looking pointedly away from the armchair.

  “Are you freaked out by it?” I ask, and my voice comes out quiet.

  He looks up at me with a start. “By Mina and Cassie?”