Silence - eARC (6 page)

“None of them ever come to these things; I can’t ever remember one of them coming here, at least,” said Seth, his plate of food forgotten next to him.

The conversations started up again, now a little less muted than before, once Sean Blackthorne started to make his rounds. He flowed between all of the groups effortlessly, from the adults to the jocks to the math nerds to the Goths to the skaters. Staci couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. Once or twice, it looked as if Wanda was going to say something about that—but then she shut her mouth.

Then, for the second time, Sean Blackthorne locked gazes with Staci. From across the entire gathering, he was staring directly at her. Not just a passing glance…but
staring at her.
All of the conversations fell to a quiet hush again, as more and more of the attendees turned to see what Sean was looking at. Staci felt her face flush, and did her best to focus on what remained of the food on her plate.
Oh god, oh god, oh god. Why is he looking at
me?

She felt a block of ice drop into her stomach when she noticed that an expensive pair of boots had just walked up to her. Slowly, she let her eyes drift upwards. Sean must’ve been six and a half feet tall, easily. A chin that looked like it was hewn from marble, a strong Roman nose, and eyes that had a peculiar—and almost entrancing—glint in them. His golden hair wasn’t long, but it wasn’t short either. It had that look to it that said someone who was paid an
awful
lot of money had cut it to look precisely halfway between tousled and tamed.

“Hi. I’m Seth Blackthorne. I don’t recognize you, and I know just about everyone in this little town of ours. What’s your name?”

“S-Staci,” she stammered, looking up into his green, green eyes. “Staci Kerry.”

Please, please, please don’t let him say “Oh, you must be Paula Kerry’s girl.…”
She did
not
want him to know she was the daughter of the drunk waitress at the Rusty Bucket.

“A pleasure, Staci.” He smiled. It was a smile warm enough to make her knees feel a little weak. “I don’t know if this is too forward, but I was wondering if you would accompany me back to my family’s estate; a few of us are having a sort of impromptu get-together there, and my other date bailed on me.”

She blinked, not sure what to say. On the one hand—
Oh my god, the hottest guy I have ever seen just asked me to his
estate
for a party!
On the other hand, wasn’t this how every single rape-fantasy story
ever
started out? Or something like this? Not to mention about half the horror movies she had ever seen…

“Think about it,” he urged, as if he was reading her mind. “The invitation is open-ended and I’ll be here a while longer.” Then he strolled over to the Jocks’n’Cheers, with an understanding smile cast over one shoulder.

“Holeee shit,” Seth breathed. “That was Sean Blackthorne…”

“Inviting Staci to the Elite Meet and Eat, yeah,” Riley replied, envy in her voice thick enough to spread. “Oh man. I am so jealous. I am
so
jealous.” Then she looked down at herself with chagrin. “Not that I’m likely to pass as anything other than one of the maids.”

Staci felt someone jiggling her elbow; it was Wanda. Her eyes were wide, but not with excitement; it was alarm. She didn’t say anything, just kept her eyes locked with Staci’s, shaking her head very slightly.
I didn’t think she’d be the jealous type. How can I say no to him? This could be my chance to actually get noticed in this nowhere town, and have something to do.

“You’ve got to go, Staci,” said Seth, even if his voice dripped envy. “Seriously. I’m dying to find out what goes on at those parties. Actually, I am dying to find out if they somehow got broadband, and if the rest of us can figure out how.”

“Get a gander at how the other half lives. And score some free chow! Don’t forget us little people; bring back as many doggie bags as you can.” Jake looked as if he was already daydreaming of lobster and steak.

Riley sighed. “Promise you’ll take notes, or something. The only thing anyone has ever said about the Blackthorne mansion to me is that it’s big and everything is expensive. Big duh there.”

Wanda rolled her eyes. It was clear she had been outvoted. “Be careful. That’s all I’m going to say.” She stood up, dusted the grass off of her clothing, and beelined for the soda coolers.

With the encouragement of three of the four Musketeers, Staci wound up her courage and left the group. She hesitated for a moment, halfway between them and the gaggle of jocks and cheerleaders that Sean was currently talking to, when Sean turned his head a little and caught her eye again. Once more, she found herself mesmerized by his gaze as he made some comment, left the group and came towards her.

“Please tell me you decided to accept the invitation, not that you have a date with a good movie and some ice cream,” he said with a smile. “I don’t think my ego could stand it.”

“I’d love to come,” Staci said simply.

“Excellent. We were just about to head out.” He offered the crook of his arm for her. “Shall we?” He allowed his gaze to drift over the various groups and made a tiny circling motion with his free hand. Roughly five other people detached themselves from their cliques and followed them down to the car.

Staci had expected a sports car from the sound of that engine. It wasn’t. It was—well, she wasn’t quite sure how to describe it. It was certainly as sleek as an expensive sports car, but it had the capacity of a limousine. It was easy enough to fit everyone else, though Staci got pride-of-place in the front passenger seat. She wished she knew more about cars; all she could tell for sure was that the inside was mostly glove-soft blood-red leather, with dark wood and black-chrome details.

Sean started the car. The engine roared to life, the sound of it suggesting that Staci had been right about this vehicle having the heart of a high-dollar sports car. Then he touched a control, and music started in the middle of a song. Pop, but played through some really amazing speakers, the music took on a lush quality she’d never heard before. The couple of jocks and their cheerleader girlfriends that were in the back talked amongst themselves; they all seemed excited to actually be going to
The Party
, and hardly even noticed that Staci was there. She didn’t mind that, actually; it was a lot better to be overlooked than purposefully ignored.

Sean drove the car fast and hard, but not so hard that she felt even the least bit alarmed at the speed. Now and again he would glance over at her and smile slightly, as if to reassure her. She always smiled back.

She didn’t recognize the road, but it was definitely climbing the slope on which Silence was built. Then, when it reached the crest, the road suddenly plunged into forest. There was nothing on either side of the road but darkness, and glimpses of reflected tree trunks standing so close together they almost made a sort of fence.

Then, when she was beginning to wonder just when they were going to
get
to the Blackthorne Estate, the car turned into a driveway she hadn’t seen until they reached it, and as a pair of huge, solid gates opened up to let them in, she saw it, lit up in the near distance, like something out of a movie.

It was
much
bigger than she had expected. Not that she’d ever actually seen a mansion herself, except a couple in New York City that had been turned into museums or something. But this was enormous. Three stories tall, and it sprawled away on either side from a massive portico supported by six stone columns. All she could think of was that the electric bill to light the place must be the equivalent of most peoples’ mortgages.

There was a circular drive (of
course
there was) that led under the portico. Sean stopped the car there; the kids in the back all piled out, as a servant opened the doors, first for them, then for her. Sean got out on his side and held out his hand to her to help her out. She flushed, wishing desperately that she was wearing something other than what she was. Like that cute little beaded dress that Brenda stole…

Rather than going into the mansion, however, Sean led the way around the side, giving her plenty of time to admire the gardener’s handiwork and try not to gawp at the
size
of the place. Once they got to the back, it was pretty obvious that this was where the partying was happening.

There was a massive pool, of course, with not just one, but four huge Jacuzzis, and a sort of artificial stream, like Staci had seen in the brochures for fancy resorts that Brenda was always getting. The stream was big enough to have a bridge over it, and there were several people—some fully clothed—floating down it in brightly colored inner-tubes. There were four tent pavilions set up, one by the pool, one on an immense lawn between the pool and the mansion, one on an immense patio attached to the mansion, and one in the garden. They were all lit up with colored lights, and she could see big tables with stuff on them and servants standing behind them, and little tables and chairs inside the nearest. The pool had its own lighting, underwater, cycling through colors. The patio had its own lighting, designed to be bright enough you could see, but neither harsh nor glaring. The gardens had lights buried in the shrubbery, and the fountain in the garden was all lit up.

There was a second house beside the pool, easily bigger than the one she shared with her mom. “I live there,” Sean said, with a nod at it. “It makes cleaning up after parties easier, and keeps the rest of my family from getting hassled. Just tell one of the servants if you want anything.” He patted her hand and gently detached it from his elbow. “I have to make the rounds for a little bit, being as I’m the host and all, but I’ll be back.” He paused, and waved a hand at a lounge chair placed by itself a little away from the pool. “That’s a comfortable seat. One of the servants will be around in a minute to see what you need.”

Feeling utterly overwhelmed by so much luxury, she couldn’t think of what to do except take his advice. The lounge was covered, not in the canvas she expected from outdoor furniture, but something soft and velvety. She tucked her legs up, and was just starting to look around when a man in a formal uniform approached her.

“And what may I get miss?” he asked, sounding like a butler in a series about rich English lords, only without the accent.

“I’m…not sure…” she stammered.

“Would miss prefer soda or a strong beverage?” he asked, his face absolutely blank, as she looked up at him. “Our bartenders can mix anything you like.”

She cast a glance around. Everyone else seemed to be drinking beer or mixed drinks. And…most of them looked, at least to her, underage. Still…
yeah, I really need to get hammered when most of these people probably know my mom as one of the local lushes…
“Coke?” she asked.

“I’m sorry, miss,” the servant said, actually
sounding
sorry. “The Blackthornes have a serious allergic reaction to caffeine. We have any other soda, however.”

Caffeine allergy?
She’d never heard of that before.
That must suck.
Then she almost giggled as she thought of something. “I’ll have a Shirley Temple,” she said. “Thank you.” She’d
look
like she was drinking, without actually drinking. And if she got tired of sweet stuff, there were always Virgin Marys.

“Certainly, miss, and I will bring miss an assortment of snacks, as well.” The servant didn’t wait for her reply to this, he just whisked himself off to the pavilion and before she’d had a chance to do more than try and find the kids from the BBQ among the other partiers, he was back with her drink and a plate of hot and cold snacks. He set both on a little table next to her, and whisked himself off again before she even had a chance to offer her thanks. She had never been waited on like this before; restaurant waiters in NYC weren’t exactly rude, but they weren’t waiting at your every beck and call, either, not when there were three dozen tables during lunchtime that all needed attention.

She was getting some veiled looks as she sat there by herself, nibbling and drinking. Eventually, Sean returned; one moment she was sipping her drink, looking at a wonderful fountain sculpture, and the next moment he was beside her.

“Finding everything to your liking?” He smiled down at her.

She decided that honesty was the best at this point.
I bet he’s surrounded by phonies. So I’ll be different.
“I don’t fit in,” she said. “But hey, I don’t fit in Silence anyway. I’m a New York girl. I wouldn’t even be here if my stepmother hadn’t kicked me out so her little angel boy could have my room.”

“I was asking about the party and the refreshments, actually.” He chuckled. He wasn’t laughing at her, thank goodness. She was stumbling over herself for a moment to compliment him on everything; the food, the drinks, the service, how beautiful everything was.

“It’s okay, Staci. But about what you were saying before…that…sucks,” he said, shaking his head. “Seriously. I can’t even imagine having…
everything,
right at your door, practically, then end up here, where there’s nothing.” Sean paused, thinking for a moment.

God, does he have to look gorgeous while he does that, too?

“How about this; let me introduce you around, help you to get to know a few people here. Would that be all right with you?”

“Sure—” she said, because, really, what else
could
she say and not end up looking like some kind of antisocial freak?

He held his hand out to her to help her up from her seat. She took his hand, and immediately noticed how strong it was; she wasn’t expecting it, especially when he easily helped her up, hardly needing to bend over. His fingers were strong, but somehow had a delicate quality to them. No bitten off nails or torn up cuticles; not quite manicured, either, but close. “Let’s get you properly introduced, now.”

After that it was a whirlwind of faces and names, and Staci quickly lost track of who was who. She met the mayor’s kids, a brother and sister, the chief of police’s son—who was probably the most drunk person at the entire party—and a flood of others. While before they had looked at her with mild disdain, now that she was hanging off the elbow of Sean…they couldn’t wait to get to know her. How she got to Silence, what it was like in New York City, if she went to Broadway plays or went clubbing all the time. Many of them expressed their sympathy for her living situation, and the way she had been dumped by her father and new stepmother. Some of it actually felt genuine. Of course, they also were all inviting her to their own get-togethers and along for their own plans; trips to the mall in the next town over, house parties, all of it, and how it would just be wonderful if she could join them.