My hand hangs limply out the window, wind whipping against my palm. I watch as trees flash by, and beach houses begin to line the side streets.
"Put that window up. My hair is ruined!" Claire's hand reaches for the driver controls before I can even put the window up myself. I pull my hand into my lap before it gets crushed. "Sorry, sorry," she says, "it's just I'm a little nervous. JW says there's already, like, ten people there."
"It's okay to be fashionably late." I pull my sunglasses over my eyes, giving her a goofy grin.
Claire sighs and flips up her turn signal. "Yeah, but not to your own party." Her plump lips perch into a slight frown. Then she smiles and looks down at my feet, crowded by paper bags. "But at least I know I'll be the sexiest girl there, huh?"
"You mean the skimpiest, right?" I laugh, remembering her walking out of the dressing room only an hour ago in a black bikini showing just a little too much skin. "Are you sure JW won't—"
"JW doesn't have a say over what I wear." She pulls into her spacious driveway, parking her bright red mustang beside her mom's BMW. She reaches for the bag, then narrows her icy blue eyes. "If I want to dress like a slut, I can. And if my boyfriend wants to criticize me for being confident in my body, then he can leave."
"Okay. You do you," I wave my hands in the air, surrendering. By now I know that getting a point across with Claire is like outrunning a cheetah: it's nearly impossible. I carefully shut the door, knowing Claire will have something to say if I slam it. The sun beats down on me, making me long to be in the water sloshing just behind us.
"I will, thank you." She says sassily. Claire trots across her sidewalk, her platinum ponytail bobbing behind her. She opens the door and the McAllister family scent—something of high dollar perfumes, cinnamon, and new furniture fills the air.
When we step into the house, Mrs. McAllister immediately greets me. "Sydney!" Her eyeliner is perfectly applied—just as Claire's always is—and a huge spoon waves in her hand. "Come look, come look." She says excitedly. I follow her into the kitchen, and watch as she pulls a pan out of the oven. "I'm just waiting for them to cool off, but..."
Steam climbs away from a batch of cinnamon buns and stare greedily. "I think I'll take the risk," I say while grabbing for the smallest one. I take a small bite, and in only moments the thing is demolished. I smile up at her. "Literal perfection. I don't know how you do it." She replies with a bashful smile and thanks.
"What's that, Claire?" Mrs. McAllister points her spoon at Claire's bag before carefully placing it in their dishwasher.
"A bathing suit."
She furrows her brows. "Don't you have enough?"
"Enough?" Claire spits, "I could never have enough."
Mrs. McAllister laughs, showcasing her pearly white teeth. "Oh, of course. I forgot you were my daughter."
"Come on, Syd. We're already late as it is, don't want to make it worse." Claire nudges me and begins walking up the main staircase.
Mrs. McAllister looks between the two of us, her grey eyes questioning. "I didn't know you two were heading out."
Claire waves a hand at her, bubblegum nail polish shining in the fluorescent lights. "Oh, didn't I tell you? I'm having a little hangout—you know, because I'm heading off to college in the fall. Kind of like a celebration? Nothing big. I just invited a few close friends like Sydney, JW, Olivia... just a few close friends, you know?" She smiles up at her mom innocently. The way Claire is able to lie without hesitation has always amazed me.
Mrs. McAllister blinks, twirling a straight strand of brown hair around her finger. "Oh, okay honey. Well don't, you know..." She sounds almost sheepish, and I feel mildly sorry for her.
"I won't do anything stupid, mom. Promise."
***
The smell of fire and weed engulfs the air. Claire leans against her boyfriend, JW, squinting up at the night sky. "There's so many of them, J. Where'd they come from?"
She lays her hand in his nappy curls and he laughs. He pulls her tighter, his dark shoulders tensing and she falls into him, giggling. "Didn't you listen in science? They're like... fire balls or something." He blinks and takes another chug of his beer.
"I never listened," her voice slurs, "I was too busy looking at you." She rest her head in his chest, smiling happily.
The fire is huge. People sit around it and laugh, pouring their beers in it as fuel. I wipe at my forehead, the humidity still unwavering. Who'd thought it was a good idea to have a bonfire on the hottest day of the year? My eyes drift to Claire. She pays no attention to anyone but JW and for a moment I regret coming. Most of the people here had already graduated, a year above me like Claire. I'd only known a few personally and even they have people they'd rather cling to over anyone else. I pull out my phone and try not to look lost.
"Sydney?" A voice says from behind. I turn my head to see an unfamiliar male. "Wow, you're hair is short." His lips curl into a goofy grin, something I recognize but can't exactly place.
I blink, furrowing my brows at the tanned boy beside me. "I'm sorry, I don't think I know..." I trail off as I look into his deep brown eyes.
His smile vanishes and is replaced by an awkward frown. "Uh, Ollie? We used to play when we were younger."
I immediately stand up, memories of my childhood rushing back. Before I realize what I'm doing I've pulled him into a tight hug. "Ollie! Oh yes, I remember! Woah, it's been such a long time. I'd almost forgot." His arms hang limp at his sides, and I pull back awkwardly. "Where've you been all this time?"
His voice is deep, but still holds a sense of childhood. "We've just been dealing with stuff. My aunt died and..." He runs his hand through a mess of dark hair almost reaching down his shoulders.
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." I glance down at my feet, the pale blue nail polish Claire forcefully applied earlier glowing in the fire light.
We both notice the dark skinned girl lurking behind, her jet of curly hair covering her face. Ollie ushers her over, "This is Rue."
"Ruby. Only people I know and actually like call me Rue." Her hazel eyes look at me with distaste.
"Ruby," Ollie corrects after clearing his throat, "she's my cousin."
"The daughter of the dead aunt and now play as the Rakani Family charity child." Her voice is light hearted, but her face is scrunched with sarcasm. She begins walking towards the fire.
Ollie crosses his arms and sighs. "Rue, you know that's not—"
"Whatever, Liver." She swats her hand behind her.
"Can you please not call me that?!" He yells at her silhouette. She digs in a cooler near the fire, coming up with a dripping beer.
"Liver!" She calls back before taking a swing.
Ollie rolls his eyes in annoyance and sits in the sand beside me. "So, uh, how are you?" He mumbles awkwardly. A little scraggly beard sits on his chin and I wish I could just wack it off. His long black hair says surfer boy, but his attitude says geeky nerd. Thinking back to when we were kids, I realize that he's just a little of both.
I smile, digging my toes into the sand. "Nothing at all. Summer has started off pretty boring... and hot."
He stands up. "Do you want a water? I'll get you a water." His eyes are wide, questioning.
"Huh? No, I'm good. Thanks, though."
"Oh, okay." He sits back down, disappointed. He rubs his hands against his knees awkwardly.
Before things can get any worse Claire hobbles towards us, leaning on anything and everything she can. A goofy smile spreads across her lipstick smeared lips. "Who's this, Sydney? You didn't tell me you had a man." She grabs his shoulder and sits down across from us. Her platinum hair is pulled into a messy bun—something a fashionista like her utterly despised—and her eyes red and swollen. "What's your name, boy?" She wraps her arm around his neck.
He glances over at me worriedly before turning back to her. "Uh, Oliver."
"Well, Oliver, this right here," she leans over him, grabbing my shoulder and squeezes, "is my best friend. Don't mess with her, okay? I'll knock you right out of the ball park, I swear I will." Even I, knowing Claire wouldn't dare hurt a fly if she were sober, feel uneasy. "You got me, Oliver?" She spits his name out and I wince.
"Claire, stop." I say. "Ollie and I were friends as kids." I turn back to him, and he glances between us, confused. "She's drunk, but I swear she's nicer when she's sober."
She stands up, her voice sounding more like a 5 year olds than 18. "Shut up, Sydney. I am menacing. Look at his face!" She points at Ollie, pulling the hair tie out of her bun and letting her hair fall down her back. He looks back at her, confused. "He knows—he knows I can beat some tail. Don't you, Oliver?" She's basically pleading with him and I hold back a laugh.
"Um, yes?"
"That's 'yes ma'am' to you." She wipes drool from her mouth with the back of her hand. I wish I'd caught this on video. She'd bury herself if she'd known she was acting like this.
"Yes, ma'am." Ollie corrects himself, looking back at me as if to say 'Um, can you help me here?'
But before I can tell Claire to fly off she's already gone, chasing after JW with beer sloshing from the can. "J, am I scary to you?" Her voice is small, but it still carries in the humid air. I laugh and shake my head.
Ollie wipes his hands on his shirt. "Wow, she's a character, huh?" He smiles at me, taking me back to the days when we'd sit and build sand castles just to destroy them and do it all over again.
"That's true: drunk and sober. Just when she's sober she's a much... sweeter character."
"I know people like that."
Silence takes over once again. I look back at the bonfire, where Claire is now sitting with JW. Ollie's cousin, Ruby, sits on a cooler with one of the boys I recognize as Troy. I don't know him to well, but what I do know of him isn't all too good. "You're cousin seems nice." At this point I'm prying for anything to start a conversation. Silence is just too awkward.
"She's uh," he looks at the fire, and she laughs at something Troy says. He slips his hands under her shirt and pulls her into him. "Well, I guess she's just trying to cope. It hit her the hardest, of course."
"I haven't even met my mom and I'm still trying to cope." I say it before I even know it's on my mind and I immediately regret it. I inwardly pray that he hadn't heard it. I'd only whispered it, right?
He laughs. "Well, at least your dad is awesome. Mine..." he trails off again and we're left in another silence. I try to remember his dad and a great, big, burly man with jet black hair comes to mind. He was quiet and stand-offish and I don't ever remember being truly introduced. Thinking back I realize how weird that is since Ollie and I hung out the majority of the summer until sixth grade.
"Syd! Oh, Syddd!" Claire yells from her perch on JW's shoulders. "Tell your boyfriend to toughen up. We're playing chicken!" JW starts running towards the water, Claire bobbing on his back. "Come on, you chickens!"
Lighting strikes far off in the ocean, lighting the sky every so often. I can tell the waves are picking up from far off, crashing faster and faster by the minute. "Claire, stop," I stand up and follow them to the water. "JW, tell her to stop. The waves are picking up and..." I trail off, knowing they're already too far to hear me. I dip my foot in and realize with a start that the water is just as hot, if not hotter than the air. I look out to sea, Claire's head bobbing on the surface alone. JW has made his way back on the beach and is digging in a cooler. "Claire, come back!" By now I'm waste deep, and am only a few feet away from her.
Her hair fans around her and she lifts a hand out of the dark water. "You need to chill, Sydney. It's not like a sharks going to bite." She pulls herself up until she's floating on the surface.
I look out, foam gathering on a mountainous wave. "Claire—"
She laughs and ducks just before it crashes.
I, of course, don't have enough time.
I go hurling underwater, hitting the sandy surface with a thud. All the breath is knocked out of me, bubbling up to the surface. I try to swim back up, only to be forced down by another wave. My forehead hits against something hard: a jagged shell or rock. I hear a crack, and a numbing sensation starts to move throughout all my senses.
With no other way out, I close my eyes and wait for the end.