NATE LOOKS around at all the people in the backyard. It's a sizable backyard, and he assumes that's why there's almost a hundred people in it.
"Damn," whistles Steven proudly as he looks around, "I did good, didn't I?" he elbows Carlee with a grin.
"I'll hand it to you." she shrugs plainly, brushing off his ego. "It's decent."
"It'll be even better when you see the band play!" exclaims Taylor, shaking Carlee with excitement. Her eyes have been scanning everyone at the party since they arrived, looking for Milo, her boyfriend. He makes Nate sick.
"Oh, my God. Milo!" Taylor's voice rings out, and all Nate can think is Speak of the Devil. She races over to him like there's a timer, tapping his shoulder until he spins around, grinning when he sees her.
"Oh, God." Nate gags, making Steven grin, almost sympathetically, in his direction. Milo wraps his arms around Taylor and lifts her up into the air into a tight embrace.
"Thank God you're here." Milo says with a grin. Nate wants to punch it off him. He sets her down, staring at her when he does so. "So I need to be able to see you when I'm up onstage." Taylor nods enthusiastically. "Alright. So stay up close?"
"Okay." she nods, smiling flirtatiously at him.
"My boy!" shouts Spike, grabbing Steven and shaking his shoulders roughly. Nate feels a sense of relief wash over him, because Taylor is now staring in Nate's direction. "Uh, you call this a party? Where are all the hot ladies you promised?"
"Uh, we're literally standing right here." Taylor rolls her eyes, motioning between Carlee, Belly, and herself.
Spike winces awkwardly, "Oh, uh, no offense. I'm into older women. Personal preference."
"Hey, babe," Milo's annoyingly grating voice is back, "I'm gonna go help the guys finish setting up, alright?"
"Okay." he and Taylor share another kiss before he stalks off, heading to the makeshift stage a few dozen feet away.
"Okay, well, have fun, everybody." Steven speaks up, grinning pridefully. "I gotta go make the rounds, entertain the people. You know, host shit." he bows dramatically as Carlee scoffs. "Come on, Spike." the boys walk away, leaving only the four others.
"Come on, let's go get some drinks." Taylor says to the girls, smiling like a fool.
"I can't drink, I'm driving." Belly raises a hand, but Taylor and Carlee drag her off anyway. Nate sighs, trying to look around the party for someone to talk to, but everyone already seems to be involved in their own conversations.
He sits alone for a few minutes, scrolling through his Instagram timeline with a blank expression on his face. Then, someone sits down beside him.
"Hey," says a girl— she's blonde, and Nate recognizes her from his Calculus class. Her name is... Layla? He can't exactly remember.
"Oh, hey." he nods in return, looking around anxiously for any sight of Steven or Carlee. "You're in my Calc class, right?"
"Yeah," the girl smiles, "Lauren." Nate's guess had been close enough, and the name sounds vaguely familiar. "I've always thought you were cute, and I just graduated, so... you have a girlfriend or are you free tonight?"
Nate hesitates for a second, his eyes flickering back to the house. Taylor isn't his girlfriend. Taylor isn't his girlfriend. Taylor isn't his girlfriend.
"Yeah, fuck it, let's go." Nate shrugs, nodding his head towards the house. "You wanna get a drink first?" Lauren nods, and Nate wraps his arm around her waist, leading her into the house, then into the kitchen. Taylor, Belly, and the rest of the girls' volleyball team are all lingering around the counter, taking long drinks from their Solo cups.
Lauren places her hand against Nate's chest, which makes Taylor narrow her eyes bitterly. She eyes the two teenagers before downing the rest of her drink.
"What an odd pairing," she states, scoffing slightly. Lauren narrows her eyes. On the contrary, Nate's eyes widen— now he knows why the name Lauren sounds familiar; Taylor had been ranting about her for months. In the early stages of Taylor's relationship with Milo, he'd cheated on her with Lauren.
"Fuck," mumbles Nate, but Lauren has already wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to lean up and press her lips to his, but he backs up. "Listen, I'm not feeling it tonight. Sorry, Layla."
"It's Lauren." the girl scoffs, pushing herself off of Nate and glowering at Taylor before running off. Nate sighs, noting that Taylor's eyes are one him, and she almost looks like she approves of his actions. He grins at her, pushing himself off the counter and heading out of the house.
*
Milo and his band are playing on a skate ramp reconstructed into a makeshift stage for the evening. Nate has his arms crossed as he stands in between Steven and Belly— Belly is swinging around with Taylor while Steven is merely staring at Carlee, who is smiling widely at the drummer.
"You want to know something so romantic?" Taylor calls out over the music. "Milo wrote this song for me."
Nate frowns, clenching his jaw. "It's a cover, Taylor. From the movie Armageddon."
Taylor stares blankly at him. "Oh. Well, it's still romantic."
"No, it isn't." mutters Nate, rolling his eyes. Taylor doesn't hear him, but Steven does, and the older boy wraps an arm around Nate's shoulders, as if trying to comfort him.
"Okay, wait, don't make me beg you for details." Taylor beams at Belly, grabbing her forearm. "What did you and Cory talk about?"
"Uh, the book I'm reading." Belly answers quickly, nodding awkwardly.
Steven laughs, and Belly turns toward him with a scowl. "I'm sorry, you suck at talking to guys."
"Shut up, Steven." scolds Carlee, looking aggravated.
"Okay, I'm rusty, and also, he's the one who brought it up." Belly explains, raising her hands in defense. "He spoke to me in French."
"French? What?" gasps Taylor, like she's never heard of the concept before. "In French? Okay, that's so hot. Like, he sounds obsessed with you."
"Yes, because all people who speak French are stalkers." Nate mocks, which causes Taylor to flip him off from the other side of Belly.
"Yeah, I don't know. I mean, that convo took so much effort." Belly continues, shrugging and staring sadly at the ground. Nate can tell she's thinking about Conrad— everything had seemed to flow so smoothly between them from what Conrad had said. In their one conversation. "Like, is it supposed to be that hard? I mean, look with you and Milo. You guys just make sense."
"Well, Milo and I are soulmates." Taylor tells her with a dismissive wave.
"That's like saying Jessica Alba and I are soulmates." Nate states plainly, clenching his jaw even tighter. "You're, like, sixteen, TayTay."
"I'm seventeen, douchebag." she returns, pushing him. He can tell it's joking, but he hates the knot that's twisted in his stomach at how fondly she speaks of Milo. He doesn't deserve her.
"I think that drummer might be my soulmate." Carlee points at him, grinning. Nate groans loudly, holding his stomach as if he's about to be sick.
Steven suddenly disappears from Nate's side just as another song queues up. Milo rips his shirt in half, tearing it down the middle and revealing his toned stomach. Absentmindedly, Nate reaches under his shirt, running his fingers along his stomach.
"Belly, Nate!" shouts Steven, who appears at the top of the skate ramp. "I'm gonna crowd-surf! Hold my shirt for a second, and make sure no one spills anything on it."
"I'm not touching that shit." Nate says, holding his hands up above his head. "It's all wet, and I don't know what the hell is making it all wet."
Steven tosses his shirt at Belly anyway, who shrieks and throws it on the grass. As she does that, Steven leaps from the skate ramp, Nate jumps back, and the older Conklin crashes into his younger sister, sending her to the ground.
"What the hell, Steven?" shouts Belly, cradling her head in her hands. Nate, Carlee, and Taylor all kneel beside the fallen siblings.
"Are you okay?" mutters Taylor under her breath, trying to help Belly sit up.
"Damn, Steve-O, you surfed that shit like a pro." teases Nate, but Steven just shoves him away, groaning.
"Yeah, great idea, valedictorian." scoffs Carlee, and it seems like Steven's attempt to impress her has crashed and burned.
"Uh, Belly, I'm sorry." Steven holds a hand out, but he's drunk and a little confused, so his hand ends up barely waving in front of her face.
"No, yeah, I'm good. I'm totally fine." Belly stumbles to her feet, brushing her long hair out of her face. "I'm just, uh... I'm gonna go get a drink."
"Well, you're my sober driver, Belly Belle!" shouts Steven as she storms away. "Don't let me down."
"Steven!" Carlee slaps him on the arm to shut him up.
*
Nate has had his jaw clenched throughout pretty much the entire party. He's sick and tired of Taylor and Milo's PDA, and right now, she's sitting in his lap, occasionally engaging in a heated make out session that shouldn't be occurring in public. But then again, if it were Nate in Milo's position, he'd be doing the same thing.
"Belly." Taylor says suddenly, waving the brunette over. "Belly, come here."
"Hey, sis. Sis, sis, check it out, check it out, check it out." Steven yells, and Belly cautiously steps closer. Steven sticks a knife into the bottom of his beer can, ready to shotgun it, when it explodes all over Belly, making her gasp out in despair. Nate watches, feeling suddenly guilty.
"I can't believe you did that." scoffs Taylor, standing up and moving beside Nate. The taller boy feels warmth spread through his chest. Fuck you, Milo, she's standing next to him.
"This party sucks." growls Belly, her eyes narrowed in Steven's direction.
"Dude, it's beer, man. It'll dry. Chill." Steven mumbles— he's clearly not guilty, and he seems amused by the entire situation.
"I'm leaving, okay?"
"Wait, wait, did something happen?" asks Carlee, standing up and trying to move towards Belly to console her, but the younger girl steps backward, looking defensive.
"No, nothing happened. Whatever." Belly rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Steven, can you just get Spike to drive you guys home, please?" she's also referring to Nate, who needs a ride to the Conklin household.
"Spike? No, Spike-Spike is drunk." Steven says, sounding more and more worried by the second. "You-you promised to be my sober ride tonight."
"Okay, well, I'm ready to go now."
"Okay, well, I'm not."
"Guys," Nate tries to reason with them, "Belly-"
"Great." snarls the short girl. "Then can you just call an Uber or something?"
"Why are you being such a buzzkill right now?" snaps Steven— he's drunk, and he's not thinking right, and he's really stressing Nate out.
"Oh, I'm sorry, am I ruining your fun night, Mr. Perfect Valedictorian?"
"Kinda, yeah."
"Okay, well, in case you forgot, which it clearly seems like you did, Susannah just died, so I'm a little bit sad. But please, don't let that stop you from having the time of your life."
"Fuck you." huffs Steven, flipping his little sister off. His eyes are watering, and Nate can't help but feel his throat sting a little too. "You know, I lost Susannah, too. Okay? You don't think I'm sad about that?"
"Oh, what, were you crowd-surfing the pain away?"
"Belly, stop." Nate tells her, putting a hand out, but she just slaps it away, rounding on him.
"And what about you?" she shouts, throwing her hands up dramatically. "You've said nothing about Susannah. It's like you go mute whenever we bring her up."
"Belly," whispers Taylor from beside Nate, but the girl doesn't hear her, and Nate has to strain his ears to.
"Th-That's not fair, Belly." stammers Nate, who feels his throat tightening up around him. "I-"
"My apologies." Belly fake bows, giving him a sneer and making him turn away, swallowing the pain in his throat.
"No, you should apologize." shouts Steven, pointing an accusatory finger in Belly's direction. "You screwed up, and now everything is weird with Conrad and Jeremiah. I mean, they won't even text me back anymore because of you."
"Guys, stop." says Nate firmly, who is only comforted by Taylor's hand on the back of his bicep.
"That is not my fault." chokes out Belly.
"Isn't it?" Steven hums sarcastically, his brows furrowed so tightly together that he looks pained by the action. "I should be celebrating with them tonight, but they wouldn't come because you made things messy. You had Jeremiah, and it just wasn't enough. You had to have Conrad, too.God, you are so fucking selfish."
"Are you serious?" roars Belly, even as Nate, Carlee, and Taylor try to shut Steven up. They all turn to her. "I had to have Conrad? Are you kidding? I was in love, Steven. Like out of my mind in love. What was I supposed to do?"
Steven's face falls as she storms back into the house, disappearing in the crowd. "Belly." Taylor throws her hands up at him, but Steven can't do anything but let his shoulders drop. The blonde-haired girl runs after her best friend.
"Oh, good going, Steven!" yells Carlee, pushing him back. He almost looks like he wants to chase after Belly, but his feet are rooted to the ground and he chooses not to move. "Look, now she's all upset and everything is fucked."
"This isn't all my fault!" returns Steven, but his voice is weak, like he's trying to convince himself more than anyone else. "I... I'm sorry."
"Can you give him a ride home, Carlee?" Nate requests, waving to the drunken Conklin boy. "Maybe I'll just walk."
"Hey," a hand clamps onto Nate's shoulder, and he looks down to see Milo standing behind him. "You can ride with me, bro. You're cool."
"Oh," says Nate monotonously, his frown evident on his face.
Milo laughs, and Nate is quick decide he hates the noise. How does Taylor like him so much? "I know you and Taylor used to be a thing, but she says you're cool, so you're chilling with me, man."
"Great." Nate forces a grimace, watching as Carlee holds in a laugh while simultaneously slinging an arm around Steven's shoulders and leading him to the front of the house.
*
Nate wishes he hadn't accepted the offer. In all honesty, he wishes he'd walked to Steven's house, because it's the worst car ride of his life. Every time they get stuck at a red light, Taylor and Milo have to make out until the light turns green.
"Quick question," Nate raises his hand cockily, "if you guys don't make out at every red light, do we have bad karma? Like, are you more likely to crash? If not, please stop. It is kicking up my gag reflex."
Taylor groans loudly as she disconnects her lips from Milo's. "If you'd rather walk, we can let you out right here."
"I genuinely would. It might be the safer decision."
"Hey, you don't gotta worry, man." Milo waves off Nate's sarcastic concern. "I'm fully sober."
"Lovely," mutters Nate through gritted teeth. "I can't believe Steven and Belly had to get into a fucking fight in the middle of the party."
"You were a part of that, too." Taylor reminds him, turning around in her seat to face him. Her words are stern, but her face is compassionate, and Nate can't help the way his face softens at her expression. "In case you forgot."
"No, Belly just yelled at me. I was trying to keep the peace. I just wish she hadn't said... well... I-I care about Susannah! I cared about her death, I still do."
"Life cannot be separated from death." states Milo abruptly, and Nate shakes his head.
"Wow. You're so helpful, man. Thank you." he replies sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Taylor slaps him subtly, but Milo doesn't see anyway.
"Milo is very in touch with his emotions." she explains, sending Nate a smirk that makes his blood boil. "That's what makes him a great musician."
"Aww, thanks, babe." gushes Milo, and Nate holds in the gag that's threatening to spill out of his mouth. "You know, I actually have a record label interested in signing me."
"What?" Taylor exclaims, seeming genuinely shocked. Nate can't say he blames her. Milo hands her his phone so she can see the label herself.
"Yeah. Check it out. Cancel Culture Records."
"Babe, they only have one post." sighs Taylor, and it makes excitement sprout up in Nate's chest.
"That's what's so punk about it." Milo shrugs, and Nate leans forward to take a look at it. He tries to ignore the way that his hand occasionally brushes up against Taylor's.
"Yeah, dude, that's fucking lit!" Nate cheers, laughing loudly. Taylor glares at him, but he ignores her. "Congrats, man. Congrats. God damn, you're talented."
jack
oh. hey!