Read Great Online

Authors: Sara Benincasa

Great (13 page)

“Teddy Barrington,” he said, sticking out his big hand and shaking her delicate one vigorously. When he released his grip, I could tell by the way she flexed her fingers that they were a bit sore.

“Nice to meet you,” Jacinta said faintly.

“She's Delilah's new best friend,” he told Brock and Reilly. They nodded in tandem.

“In fact,” Teddy added, “they hang out so much, I feel like I barely see my own girlfriend anymore. At least not until the nighttime. But I guess that's when it counts, right?” He let out a dry chuckle. Jacinta's big eyes widened, and for a moment I genuinely felt worried. She looked like a tiny animal confronted by a huge beast. “I'm surprised I didn't recognize you right away,” Teddy said, staring at Jacinta intently. “There are so many pictures of you and Delilah on Facebook now.”

She gave a light laugh. “Oh, not so many,” she said. “Ten. We were just playing dress-up the other day at my house. Doing our hair and makeup. Silly girly stuff.”

“Yeah, that's what Teddy and I do when we hang out,” Jeff said.

“That reminds me of an episode of
Oh, Those Masons!
” Teddy said, a faraway look stealing over his eyes. “The brothers dressed in drag to get into a hot girl's birthday party. I was in makeup for two hours. The director said I looked pretty in pink.”

“That's kind of creepy, bro,” Jeff said, cracking up.

“It wasn't creepy,” Teddy said seriously. “It was art. You know what I mean, right, Naomi?”

“Uh, sure,” I said. “Acting. It's art.”

“Exactly,” he said, smiling down at me as if I had just said something truly profound. “See, your girl gets me, Jeff. Me and her, we're on another level. She gets it.” He winked at me, and I pretended not to notice.

“You been hanging out with Delilah at all, Naomi?” Teddy asked.

“Sometimes,” I said cautiously. “I actually haven't seen her for a few days.”

“That's too bad,” he said. “You should come over for dinner sometime. You can bring Jeff, too, if you have to.” He laughed as if he'd said something really funny.

“Thanks, bro,” Jeff said.

“Maybe one day you could let Delilah see her old friends,” Teddy said, looking pointedly at Jacinta.

“Oh,” Jacinta said, looking flustered. “You know Delilah—she does whatever she wants.”

“I do know Delilah,” he said. “I've known Delilah since we were in kindergarten.”

“That's sweet,” Jacinta said. “When did you start dating?”

“You mean she hasn't told you the whole story?”

“No, I'm afraid she hasn't.”

“I thought boys were all girls talked about. Besides, you know, hair and makeup.”

“You're such a feminist, bro,” Jeff said, squeezing my shoulder with his hand.

“Oh, we talk about all sorts of things at my house,” Jacinta said, twisting her fingers together. “But I guess mostly fashion and style.”

“I heard there was a wild party at your house the other week,” Teddy said. He turned to his companions. “You guys remember the fireworks, right?”

“Oh, shit,” Reilly said, suddenly becoming animated. “The party with the Ferris wheel. I heard about that. That was your place?”

Jacinta smiled and nodded with pride.

“Sounded badass,” Brock grunted.

“You better invite us to your next party, Jacinta Trimalchio,” Teddy said.

“How about tonight?” Jacinta asked.

I looked at Jeff. Jeff looked at me. We hadn't heard anything about a party at Jacinta's, and you'd think that since we were the only ones who were actually invited last time, she would've given us a heads-up.

“You're having a party tonight?” Teddy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I am now,” Jacinta said simply. “You can come over, have some drinks, see where Delilah's been spending her days.” The tilt of her chin and the way she pursed her lips almost made it seem like a challenge.

Teddy looked at Brock and Reilly. Brock shrugged. Reilly scratched the back of his head.

“Sure,” Teddy said. “What time?”

“Eight o'clock,” Jacinta said. “Delilah can show you how to get there.”

“I'm sure she knows the way by heart,” Teddy said.

“She does,” Jacinta said.

“Cool,” Teddy said. “Great. We'll see you then.” He and his boys said their goodbyes and walked off down the beach.

“It's one o'clock,” I said. “Can you really put together a party by eight?”

“I can if Baxley's can cater it,” Jacinta said, whipping out her cell phone. She walked away from us for a few minutes, talking on the phone and gesticulating enthusiastically.

“I like her,” Jeff said to me in a low voice. “She's great. But she's super-weird, right? Like, it's not just me.”

“She's—different,” I said carefully. I knew what he meant, but I was suddenly feeling very protective of her.

Jacinta came back, triumphantly waving her cell phone in the air. “They said yes!” she said. “Which means I have to go to the bakery to get desserts, and to the florist to get flowers, and I've got to rent the chairs and tables—oh, I have so much to do, loves!” She wrung her hands but seemed more excited than nervous.

“Do you need any help?” Jeff asked.

“Just spread the word,” Jacinta said, gathering up her parasol. “Text your friends. I'll email everyone, get the message out. This won't be a huge party like last time—I'll aim for maybe a hundred. And it's a white party! Everyone has to wear white.”

“Ah,” Jeff said. “Only a hundred. All white. Got it.”

And then she was gone, swept away in a whirl of excitement.

“I guess we're going to a party tonight,” I said.

Jeff put his arms around me and bent his head down to my ear.

“Then we've got some things to do in the meantime,” he whispered. “Your mom isn't home, is she?”

“Nope,” I said. “Sailing with investors.”

“Perfect,” Jeff said. “I'll race you to your house.”

And so we were busy for the next few hours.

CHAPTER NINE

L
ater, when it was time to go to Jacinta's party, I kicked Jeff out of my room so that I could put on my party outfit and makeup. When I came downstairs fifteen minutes later, he whistled.

“Lookin' good,” he said approvingly. I was wearing a strapless white playsuit, kind of a '60s look, and my hair was in braids. I wore white espadrilles and had tucked a white gardenia from my mother's bedroom behind my ear.

“We're lucky you already had a white polo shirt with you,” I said. “Otherwise, whomever would I take as my date?”

“I'm sure Brock or Reilly is available,” he said, pulling me close to him.

“Ew,” I said. “I don't date Cro-Mags.”

It took us another few minutes to get out of the house, but once we were in view of Jacinta's backyard, I stopped short and gasped in wonder.


How
did she do this in just a few hours?” Jeff said in disbelief.

“I think she's magic,” I said, and I wasn't really exaggerating.

Somehow, Jacinta had transformed her backyard into a white wonderland. White rose petals were scattered all over the ground like fragrant snow. White rose-shaped candles floated in the river pool. The trees were covered in white Christmas lights and white streamers. White chairs with white cushions, white tables draped with white lace tablecloths, white-clad cater waiters with white gloves serving food on white plates under a white tent—Jacinta had managed to assemble it all. At least one of the 1920s bands was back, dressed all in white and playing pre-Depression hits on the deck, which was draped with white bunting. And near the deck were two objects that would've seemed ridiculous and childish if they weren't so much fun—a giant white bouncy house and a huge white trampoline. One guy was already jumping on the trampoline, a champagne bottle in his hand, while his friends cracked up nearby. A few girls were eyeing the bouncy house, and I knew that as soon as they had a few glasses of wine in them, they'd be shrieking and squealing as they hopped around in their bare feet.

As we wandered the backyard, marveling at Jacinta's lightning-fast party planning, I overheard a few snatches of conversation.

“I got the text at one thirty and was already trying on white dresses by two,” one girl said to another. “I had to get Hunter out of his sweaty golf clothes and into a nice white shirt and shorts.”

“Oh, you'll use any excuse to get Hunter out of his clothes, you slut,” her friend chortled.

“She could've given us more notice,” a third girl complained. “She obviously had this planned way in advance—couldn't she have sent invitations last week or something? I had to cancel dinner with my parents, and they
hate
when I cancel.”

“Oh my God, look who's working the party again,” another girl hissed excitedly. “Think she'll ‘serve' Teddy Barrington in the bouncy house?” The girls all dissolved into giggles.

Under the tent, Misti listlessly served grilled lobster and corn on the cob while Giovanni tended bar nearby. I went to get plates for Jeff and me, and I felt like I ought to say something nice.

“I like your dress,” I said. It was a pretty white shirtdress with a little white belt—much cuter than the usual cater-waiter gear.

“Thanks,” she said cautiously. “It's from Mandee. I'm lucky I had it with me or I would've been outta luck when they told us we had to wear all white. I couldna worked the gig.” Then she looked over my shoulder, and her entire bored face lit up like the sunrise. It was so marked a change that I swiveled around to see what she saw.

Flanked by Reilly and Brock, Teddy strode around the side of the house, greeting passersby with fist bumps and hugs, almost like a politician. A few girls stopped and cooed over him, and he leaned down to say things that made them giggle and blush.

Then, about twenty paces behind Teddy, an obviously reluctant Delilah came into view. I glanced back at Misti and saw her face fall.

“Gio!” she yelled over her shoulder at Giovanni. “Make me a rum and Coke!”

He looked over the bar, surprised. “While we're workin'?”

She stared daggers at him. “What did I friggin' say? Yeah, while we're workin'!”

He looked a little scared. “Okay, baby,” he said soothingly.

“Baby,” Misti muttered, slapping a buttery piece of corn on the cob on my plate so that some of the butter splattered on my wrist. “Yeah, friggin' right.” I murmured my thanks for the food and hustled my way back to the table where Jeff and I had set up camp. He was already a couple beers in by the time I sat down.

“You should've seen Misti's face when Teddy walked in,” I said, handing him his plate. “She thinks he's like a god or something.”

“I can't wait to see how he reacts when he sees
her
,” Jeff said through a mouthful of corn. He chuckled a little. “Or even better, how Delilah will act when she sees her.”

“Jeez, catty much?” I said. He shook his head and swallowed his food.

“Not catty,” he said. “Observant. Interested. I'm fascinated by the strategy of it all. It's like golf. You hit the ball, hoping it goes one place, and sometimes it does. Other times, it doesn't. Regardless, you've got to play it where it lies. Teddy came to this party, and Misti is here. He wasn't expecting that. So now what's he going to do? How's he going to play it?”

“I've heard enough sports analogies for one lifetime. My dad's a basketball coach, remember?” I dug into my grilled corn and wondered, not for the first time, if Jeff actually looked at people as if they were players in some kind of giant game. It seemed a little cold, but I remembered how Skags and I used to analyze the Beasts' antics back at school for our own amusement—their stupid fights, their little intragroup rivalries, their dumb drama over idiotic boys. Maybe it was kind of like that. And that was harmless, right?

But there was a big difference—Skags and I weren't friends with the Beasts. Well, not until her recent bonding with Jenny Carpenter, anyway. Jeff was supposed to be one of Teddy's best friends. So how could he look at Teddy's life with such amused detachment?

Maybe boys were just different about this stuff.

And anyway, Jeff didn't know anything about Teddy pushing Misti. I was sure he would've been less cavalier about the situation if he knew about that. Maybe I would tell him—eventually. Now clearly wasn't the moment.

“Oh, man,” he said in a low voice. “Look at that.”

I looked, and saw one of the most uncomfortable scenes I've ever witnessed: Jacinta Trimalchio, wearing a sleeveless ivory dress, plus white heels and a tiny white top hat set askew on her head, gingerly talking to a miserable-looking Delilah, who was wearing a tight white dress that seemed illegally short, and a very animated Teddy, who had his arm slung protectively around Delilah's shoulders. Brock and Reilly stood slightly behind him like sentries, watching the conversation unfold with expressionless faces. As I watched, Teddy threw an arm around Jacinta and drew both girls close to him, lowering his head and murmuring something. Whatever he said, it didn't go over well—Jacinta pulled back and looked startled, while Delilah furiously threw off his arm and snapped at him. This only served to make him laugh, and he cast a glance at Brock and Reilly, both of whom began laughing, too. Delilah stalked off toward the house, grabbing Jacinta's hand and pulling her along.

“I should go talk to Jacinta,” I said, standing up so fast I almost upset my glass of wine. “Something crazy is going on.”

“You're a good friend,” Jeff said. I studied him to see if he was being sarcastic, but he wasn't.

“I mean it,” he said, taking another gulp of beer. “I know they're glued at the hip, but I think you're a better friend to Jacinta than Delilah is. Delilah's playing some kind of weird game. You—you just care about people. It's nice.” He sounded almost sentimental. I guess it was the beer.

“I'll see you later,” I said, grabbing my white beaded clutch and hurrying away. I passed Teddy & Co. on the way to the house.

“Hey, Naomi,” Teddy said, and I could tell he must've come to the party already drunk. “You gonna save my girlfriend from that psycho?”

“She's not a psycho,” I said, and kept walking.

“You're a good girl, Naomi!” Teddy bellowed after me. “All girls should be as good as you!” I ignored him.

I hurried inside as a steady stream of revelers in white came through the front door and around the side of the house. I recognized a lot of faces from Jacinta's first party—those brothers whose names I couldn't remember; the Fitzwilliams girls; Ainsley Devereaux; and dozens of others. It looked as if Jacinta's party might pass the hundred-guest mark she'd predicted earlier. Whether she'd intended it or not, this was going to be another mega-bash.

I couldn't find the girls downstairs, so I went upstairs and peeked in each of the rooms in backward-rainbow order: indigo, blue, green, yellow, and orange. All had their doors wide open, and all were empty of people. Then I got to the red room, and saw that the door, while not closed, was just slightly ajar. I peered inside cautiously, and there were Jacinta and Delilah, sitting on the bed, Delilah's head on Jacinta's shoulder.

“He was just being a jerk,” Jacinta said. “The more you take him seriously, the worse it gets.”

“I hate him,” Delilah said fiercely, balling her hands up into fists. “I seriously hate him. He's disgusting.”

“You need to tell him, then,” Jacinta said. “Tell him it's over.”

“I will,” Delilah vowed. “I can't wait to be free of him. He's the worst. I don't care what my mother says—he's a piece of crap.”

“He doesn't understand you,” Jacinta said. “He thinks you're just a doll for him to show off. He doesn't know how creative you are, or how smart, or how talented.”

“You're so right,” Delilah said. She pulled back and looked at Jacinta for a moment. A glance passed between them that I couldn't interpret. But then Delilah did something that needed no interpretation—she leaned forward and kissed Jacinta full on the mouth, just as if she'd done it a hundred times before. And Jacinta wrapped her long, skinny arms around Delilah and kissed her back.

It's not like I'd never seen girls kiss before. My best friend was a huge lesbian who showed it off like a badge of honor; when she had girlfriends, she'd purposely kiss them when they were walking past a church or sitting in a restaurant full of old people, just to see the reaction. I couldn't imagine Jacinta or Delilah doing something like that. In fact, I had the uncomfortable feeling that I'd witnessed something that really wasn't any of my business. As I backed away from the door, the floor creaked loudly. Jacinta anxiously called, “Who's there?”

I had to think fast. I pretended that I'd just walked up to the door and hadn't been standing there for a few minutes. I poked my head in the room.

“Hey, ladies,” I said, smiling as if nothing were amiss. “I was just looking for you two.”

They visibly relaxed.

“Oh, Naomi,” Delilah said. “It's you.” She slowly exhaled and then giggled.

“God,” she said. “I need to pack a bowl, like, right now.”

Wordlessly, Jacinta went over to a drawer and withdrew a glass pipe and a little plastic bag. She handed them to Delilah like she was a mother giving her child a Tylenol and a cup of water.

While Delilah smoked and the air filled with that kind of skunky smell, Jacinta and I stood at the windows and looked out at the party. The bouncy house was in full swing, and a few girls had pulled off their white dresses to reveal white bikinis. They were splashing around in the river pool, giggling and trying to avoid dousing any of the dozens of glowing white floating candles. A few guys, not surprisingly inspired by the girls, had stripped down to their tighty-whities and were “swimming,” i.e., trying to take the girls' tops off. More and more people streamed into the backyard, which was getting quite crowded.

“What on eaaaaarth is Teddy doing?” Delilah asked from the bed, her stoned voice back in full effect.

Jacinta looked over in the direction of the food tent. Teddy was talking to Misti, who was leaning toward him over the warming dishes as if she wanted to dive down his throat and build a home there.

“You won't like it,” Jacinta said.

Delilah got up, tripping and giggling a little as she did, and sauntered over to the window. She put her arm around Jacinta and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. Then she looked outside.

“Maybe if he likes her so much, he should buy her a new nose,” Delilah said, and this time her giggle had a nasty hard edge to it. Jacinta joined in the laughter, something that surprised me. Jacinta was quirky but never mean. I guess love, or whatever they were in, changes a person. Or maybe it just brings out their true nature.

I looked down and suddenly they were holding hands again, but definitely not like friends do. Delilah was smoothing her thumb back and forth across Jacinta's wrist. Jacinta was visibly trying to hold back a response. I got exactly the awkward feeling I experienced when I went to the movies with Skags and her then-girlfriend, some other high school's lacrosse team captain, a couple of years ago. In that moment, I knew I was a real third wheel. I also knew the other two wheels were about to make out regardless of whether or not I was there. I decided it would be better if I weren't there.

“I'll, um—see you two later,” I said, waving lamely as I walked away.

“Lovely to see you, Naooooooomi,” Delilah said. “I've missed seeing you these past few days.”

“Me too,” Jacinta said eagerly. She broke her grasp with Delilah and enfolded me in a hug so tight I found it difficult to breathe.

I went downstairs and out onto the back deck and was immediately waylaid by Olivia Bentley, who wanted to take a photograph of me for
Young Hamptons
. She made a snarky comment about how she was sure this meant I'd be on
The Wanted
, too, probably within five minutes. I posed for her, but I was kind of frowning in the shot, so when she showed it to me, I said, “Man, I look like a real snob.”

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