They edge around the crush of bodies inside the front door.
Claire senses it immediately, the shrill energy of a room full of people determined to slough off this last tense fortnight. To let go after the marathon of output. Now, whatever happened, everybody gets to throw up their arms and stop caring because there is nothing they can do about exams anyway. As she stands there, Nina by her side, Claire senses a thread of something bordering on hysteria in the air. Everyone is wired on the mutual thrill of finishing. And she feels the same.
Claire spots them from across the living room. She grabs Nina by the sleeve and hauls her through the crowd to where their friends are clustered around the kitchen counter. Already the room is awash with empty bottles, puddles of spilled booze, and abandoned plastic cups. Nina launches herself onto Pete’s back and hangs off his neck.
“It’s over!” Robbie hoots as she gets closer and pulls her into a tight a hug.
“Yep.” She grins. Even though she had her last exam three days ago and has had a little time to get used to the newfound feeling of summer freedom, it still feels pretty damn good to be here and to have them all back in the land of the living again.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t come to your exhibition,” she tells him, genuinely remorseful. “We had this family thing to welcome Cam home.”
“It’s totally fine.” Robbie waves her apology away. “Anyway, how is he? How was it?”
“Cam’s fine.” Claire rolls her eyes. “Fell asleep straight after dinner. He got off scot-free.”
“But didn’t you say the poor guy has to, like, lie around for a month now before he can do anything?”
“Yeah and?” She raises her hands. “What’s so bad about that?”
“Right now, nothing.” He swigs his beer, puts it down on the bench, and claps his hands together. “And we’re going to be doing that up at the lake next week! Thank God your parents said yes.”
Asking her parents hadn’t been too bad in the end. She played it the smartest way she knew how and presented it to her mother while she was right in the middle of a phone tangle with the hospital. She did exactly what Claire hoped she’d do. She waved her away and told her to ask her father. Surprisingly her father agreed easily. It looks as if the guilt of leaving her with Cam on her own paid off. He told her she deserved a break after these last few weeks, and that they were welcome to go up there if they promised to look after the place and not upset any of the neighbours.
Robbie grabs her around the waist again, lifts her up, and swings her around. “It’s going to be so amazing!”
She thumps him on the shoulder. “You are nuts tonight!”
“I’m happy.” He picks up his beer again. “I am so happy that I kicked ass on my feedback, and I’m happy because I even did pretty well on that essay.”
“Of course you did.” She takes the beer Nina passes to her. “I helped.”
“Yeah, you should never do modesty, Claire.” He shakes his head as a girl skips up and grabs him by the arm. “It wouldn’t suit you.” He grins, a parting shot before he throws his arms around the girl. “Oh hey!”
Claire smiles. It looks as if Robbie is going to hug the whole world tonight.
She turns and steps into the loose circle made of Mia, Pete, and Nina. Pete gives her an exuberant kiss on the cheek.
Mia jumps off the bench and leaps over to her. “I missed you!” She enfolds Claire in a hug.
Claire laughs, returns the hug, and blushes. They don’t usually hug. Well, Claire doesn’t usually hug. Except with Robbie because she has no say in the matter. “You know, I actually missed you too.”
“Aw thanks.” Mia rolls her eyes and laughs as she steps back. Tonight, Mia seems happier than she has in ages. And different. She looks different.
“What’s changed?” Claire narrows her eyes and looks her up and down.
“Hair?” Mia suggests. “I got a celebratory haircut this afternoon. But it was only a trim.”
Claire looks her over again. It might be her hair. It does look good, glossy and rich. But it’s not just that. It’s all of her. Claire tries to figure it out. She’s still wearing her basic uniform—jeans, boots, and a tank. Maybe it’s a more sophisticated version of her usual look. Her top is black, made of a silky material, showing off her already tanned shoulders, with a cutout pattern along the neckline. She wears her aunt’s pendant and large silver hoops in her ears too. She’s a shinier version of Mia.
Mia frowns and runs her hand self-consciously through her hair.
“Oh no, you look really good,” Claire tells her quickly when she realises she’s made Mia uncomfortable. She takes a swig of her beer and then offers it to Mia.
Mia shakes her head and laughs. “No, I need a break, I think, if I am going to last. I’ve already had a few too many tequilas.”
“You did earn it.”
“Yeah.” Mia smiles wider, her freckled nose crinkling. “You know, I really did miss you, though. Study breaks were no fun on my own.”
Claire smiles back at her. She wishes she’d been there for that last slog too. Her mother took some time off when Cam arrived home and got immediately busy with one of her intense maternal spells, an obvious attempt to make up for the lost hospital week. She’d constantly knock on Claire’s door and ask if she needed anything. Sometimes it would be just an inane question. Other times, she’d offer Claire food. It happened so often, it felt as if Claire’s irritation had just calmed from the last invasion when there would be another knock. It was so much calmer at Mia’s house. The energy is different there.
She’s just about to ask how Mia’s parents are when she feels a hand on her shoulder. She turns. It’s Jeremy, Guitar Boy, a six-pack of beer under his arm. He smiles as he tucks his hair behind his ears. “Hey, I made it.”
“You made it,” she agrees as she tries to hide her surprise. She completely forgot that she invited him along—after a few tequilas—the other night at the bar.
Sick of his sister and her friends, he hung around the bar and chatted to Claire and Nina while they packed down the place. He was just like he was that morning she woke up at his place, fun and chilled, with that wry, easy sense of humour. She can see how she ended up in his bed. Well, not in his bed exactly, but how she went anywhere near him in the first place. He’s nice and he’s funny. And definitely hot.
Still, for a second she’s a little thrown by his sudden appearance in this kitchen. She smiles blankly at him, not sure what to say.
So he takes over. “Hey, I’m Jeremy.” He holds his hand out toward Mia.
“Sorry,” Claire mutters. “This is, uh, Jeremy.”
“Yeah, got that.” Mia shakes his hand. “Mia.”
“Hey, Mia. That’s my sister’s name.”
“Is it?” Claire raises her eyebrows. “The one from the other night?”
“Nah, another one.” He turns back to Mia. “What do you know, huh?”
“Hmm,” is all Mia says to that revelation. Then she looks between the two of them and kind of smiles again.
“Did you just finish exams too?” Jeremy asks.
“Yep.” She sighs. “But I plan on forgetting them now. Tonight, there is no such thing as exams.” She nods, decisive. Then she reaches out and threads her arm between them. Claire steps aside as Mia takes the shot being passed to her. She holds up the glass in their general direction. “Cheers,” she says and throws back the shot before they can even lift their beers in response.
Claire smirks as Mia winces. So much for the break. Mia looks back and forth at the two of them, presses her lips together for a second, and puts the glass on the bench. She throws her arms in the air and says, “Right, I’m dancing. See you.” She smiles briefly and squeezes between Claire and Jeremy. “Robbie, let’s dance!”
Claire watches as Mia departs for the living room turned dance floor, her arms still in the air and a sway in her hips as she slides between bodies and into the crush. Robbie is close behind. Claire shakes her head. Clearly, Mia is totally committed to partying tonight.
“Did you want to go and dance too?” Jeremy says in Claire’s ear.
She shakes her head. Maybe she does, but considering she invited him, it’d be kind of rude to ditch him when he just walked in the door. She takes over Mia’s perch on the edge of the counter and downs the last of her beer. He pulls two out of his pack and passes one to her.
“Thanks.” She eyes Nina and Pete as they continue to chat at the other end of the bench.
“I don’t know what these are like.” Jeremy inspects the label. “I found them in the fridge at work. Colombian, I think.”
“Where do you work that you find random Colombian beer in the fridge?” She raises an eyebrow as she unscrews the cap with the sleeve of her top.
“A music studio.”
“How very rock and roll.”
“Not really. It just sounds it.” He taps his beer gently against Claire’s and takes a sip. “Me and my three chords, we just supervise. We don’t play.”
“Still, it’s kind of cool.”
“Nope. You know what I actually do? I manage the bookings for recording spaces for people who couldn’t organise a drink in a brewery. They’re the kind who inevitably turn up late or at the wrong time no matter how many times you email or call to confirm the times they requested. And then I clean up after them. And let me tell you something, Claire, musicians pretty much live up to their reputation for being pigs. So, not the prettiest job in the world.”
She tips her head to one side and concedes it does sound less appealing now.
He pulls himself up on the bench next to her, and they sit there in the swampy thoroughfare of the kitchen, drink surprisingly good Colombian beer, and compare life notes while the party escalates around them. A ceaseless flow of people parade past, from the dance floor to fridge and back door. As the house fills, it becomes steamy and hot, and the whole house smells like beer breath and sweat and something vaguely hippie. Like incense.
Despite the constant flux, she doesn’t see her friends for a while. Pete and Nina disappeared at some point when she wasn’t looking. She hadn’t thought of that particular potential. Nina and Pete. It’s about time Nina dated a non-idiot.
Part of her would like to go and find everyone. She hadn’t really thought this through when she off-the-cuff invited Jeremy to come along. She forgot she’d be somewhat responsible for him. It’s not that she doesn’t like him. She does, in some kind of benign, unsure-yet way. But she also wants to celebrate with her friends tonight, and instead, they are all scattered to the high winds of this party.
It’s not long, though, before Robbie appears, pushing his way through the back door. Claire has no idea how he made it around the house, but he has.
“Hey, you guys, come here!” He beckons furiously, unable to get much closer than a few feet away before the push of the crowd forces him back as if he’s caught in a riptide.
“Where?” Claire calls.
“Just come!” He gestures over his shoulder as he drifts back toward the door. “And bring whatever drinks you have.”
Jeremy raises his eyebrows at her and picks up his beer. “Are we going hiking or something?”
She shrugs. She has no idea what’s happening. But that’s Robbie for you.
“Shall we?” He grabs the rest of his beers and jumps down off the bench.
They fight their way outside and follow Robbie through the small, crowded courtyard and around to the side of the house to where Eli waits. They walk down the side of the house, along a path sandwiched tightly between the wall and a thick leafy hedge.
“What the hell are we doing?” Claire holds out her arm as she tries not to get scratched in the face by wayward branches.
Eli stops suddenly at the foot of a tall ladder. He points upward. “We’re going on the roof.”
“Why?”
Robbie lets out a huge sigh. “Claire, did you ever see that show The X-Files when you were a kid?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Remember when Scully was being all doubty and stick-in-the-mud and Mulder would turn and look at whatever crazy shit was happening and say, ‘Just go with it, Scully.’ You remember that?”
“Are you calling me a stick-in-the-mud?” Claire punches him in the shoulder. Hard.
“No, but I am telling you just to go with it.” Robbie leans in, kisses her on the cheek, and then puts his foot on the first rung. “Because why not, you know?”
Claire shrugs. While they watch Robbie climb, Jeremy introduces himself to Eli, and Claire once again mutters her apologies for not doing it earlier. She’s feeling kind of behind the ball tonight, introduction-wise.
As soon as Robbie gets to the top, Eli turns to Claire and holds a hand out toward the ladder as if it’s a game show and the ladder is the prize. Claire looks at her nearly full beer, wondering what to do with it.
Jeremy reaches for it. “Here.”
“But then what…” she starts to ask, but he takes both their bottles and stuffs one each in the deep front pockets of his jacket.
He holds out his hands. “Ta da!”
She laughs and puts her foot on the first rung, glad she’s wearing boots and even gladder she didn’t wear a skirt. She takes a deep breath and begins the climb. It’s a long way to the top, and by the time she’s halfway, she really doesn’t want to look down. Instead, she takes another breath and slowly inches her way up until she reaches the top.
She clutches the sides of the ladder and peers over the flat rooftop. Pete and Robbie and another guy are already up there, huddled near the brick chimney several feet away, where part of the roof starts to slant upward to meet the next house.
“You made it alive!” Robbie laughs. He trots over, takes her hand, and steadies her as she steps carefully onto the tin roof.
She straightens and grabs Robbie’s other sleeve to assuage the vertigo that sweeps over her as the rest of the world seems to fall away in front of them. They are surrounded on all sides by factories and warehouses. A tall, brick silo shoots up into the night sky. Here and there a few houses like this one sit scattered amongst the industry, and through a break between two warehouses, the lights of the city beam. And way, way above the city haze, she can see the star struck sky.
Robbie loops his arm through hers. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”
“Kinda.” Claire breathes in the cooling night air and stares. It is.
Jeremy’s head appears at the top of the ladder. He grins, puts the last couple of beers in his pack onto the roof, and finishes the climb. Eli isn’t far behind.
Claire lets go of Robbie, steps a little further from the edge, and turns a full circle. She takes in their surroundings on all sides—sky and stars and the faintest wafts of cloud. Sounds of the party downstairs, the voices, hoots, and laughter, filter up around her. The bass from the dance floor thuds under the soles of her boots. It is amazing.
They park themselves in a circle next to the chimney, spread Pete’s coat on the roof, and lay out the drinks they managed to carry in a ridiculous, alcoholic parody of a picnic. Jeremy pulls her beer from his pocket and passes it to her.
“Thanks.” She looks around at the other few small groups of people up there, hanging out in small circles or pairs, keeping to themselves.
“Ooh, guess what I’ve got!” Robbie rummages in his bag. He pulls out a tiny tealight candle and a pack of matches, leans over, and tries to light it.
“I want to ask why you have it.” Claire laughs. “But the answer will probably never be as good as the fact that you randomly have a candle in your bag.”
“And you would be right.” Robbie chuckles as he tries to coax a flame by cupping his hand around the flimsy little needle of fire coming off the wick. It flickers wildly, throwing weak, dancing shadows across the roof.
She sits next to Jeremy with her back against the chimney, pulls her knees to her chest, and zips her jacket up to her neck. It’s not exactly the warmest of nights for rooftop picnics, especially the kind of roof not designed for picnics or even inhabitants. But she doesn’t care. She loves it up here. It feels as if they are survivors of some great flood, huddled above the world together.
Robbie reaches into his bag and places his half-full bottle of tequila on the “blanket” and pulls some shot glasses from his pockets. “We may have to drink in shifts. I only have four glasses.”
Claire shakes her head and laughs, remembering that first party with him when he’d done the same thing. “Seriously, you are like some sort of a mutant Boy Scout. Always totally prepared.”
Robbie laughs, pulls out his phone, and reads something on the screen.
“Yeah, prepared for mayhem,” Eli adds with a chuckle.
Robbie puts his phone down and pours a round of shots. “Tell me you don’t appreciate my Boy Scout talents right now, huh?”
“Oh, we appreciate it,” Pete assures as Robbie pushes a glass toward him.
“And I am keeping it classy,” Robbie insists.
Claire laughs at that, leans forward, and takes two glasses. She passes one to Jeremy.
Robbie holds his own aloft in the air. “To the end, to the beginning, to whatever.” He slings back his shot.
“Totally deep, man,” Pete teases as he raises his glass.
Jeremy turns to Claire, and they sombrely clink glasses and drink. The heat courses down her throat and into her chest. She winces and leans against the chimney. Yep, she still loves tequila.
The shrill sound of an eighties pop song bursts into the air, overriding the music belting out from the house below. Robbie pulls his phone out of his pocket and answers it. He listens for a second, shakes his head, and grins. “No, I am not joking. Yes, seriously, the ladder by the wall down the side. I told you, just do it.” He hangs up laughing.
Next thing they know, there is a shrill, shrieking laugh coming from the top of the ladder. It’s Nina. She gets to the top, spots them, and screams at Robbie, “This is what I do for you! I’m terrified of heights. Now someone has to help me.”
Eli laughs and goes to the ladder. He helps haul Nina up onto the roof as she cackles loudly. She clings to Eli’s jacket and shields her eyes from the view with her hand as they walk.
When she gets to them, she drops her hand and looks around at them all. “Claire!” she squawks. She totters over and drops onto the roof next to her. Clearly, she’s pretty drunk.
Claire smiles at Nina’s sodden little grin. “Yes, Nina?”
Nina pokes her affectionately on the nose. “My evil friend.”
Claire swats her hand away. “What have you been doing?”
“Nothing,” Nina sings as she leans against Claire’s side and rests her head on her shoulder. “Drinking. Christ, I’m going to have to sober up before I go back down that thing.” She turns and points at the ladder as if it’s the one making life difficult instead of all the alcohol she’s clearly been consuming. Then she turns to the group and looks around. She points at Pete and his friend. “I know you. You’re Pete.” She squints into the darkness and turns the finger directly on the other guy. “But who are you?”
He laughs and holds up his hands as if to protest his innocence. “I’m just Dan. Nothing to see here.”
She continues to point an interrogative finger at him. “Are you a nice guy, Dan?”
“I think so. But you’d probably have to ask my grandmother.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Nina uses Claire’s shoulder to help herself up and unsteadily tiptoes over to him. She plonks herself down next to him and holds out her hand. “I’m Nina.”
He sombrely takes her hand and shakes it.
Jeremy turns to look at Claire, one eyebrow raised. She laughs and shrugs.
“Hey, has anyone seen Mia lately?” Robbie asks. “She is MIA.”
Eli pats him on the shoulder. “Mia is MIA. Hilarious.”
Robbie laughs. “I didn’t actually mean that.”
Nina turns from her inquisition. “I’ve seen her. That girl is dancing,” she declares as if she’d willingly testify in a court of law on the topic if she had to. Then she turns back to Dan and continues to fire questions at him.
Claire shakes her head and smirks. Nina is such a delightful idiot. And, of course, Mia’s on the dance floor. Claire considers going to find her. She was looking forward to hanging out with her tonight. Problem is Claire has a feeling the climb down is going to be infinitely more terrifying than the climb up. Nope, she’s not braving it now. Not after tequila.
Instead, Claire sits back, beer in hand, and listens as Pete and Jeremy begin to compare notes on trips they’ve both made all over Asia. She doesn’t join in, sure her family’s overly planned little European holidays won’t impress much here. These guys have been all over the place. They have stories about strange encounters, spurious border crossings, and near misadventures in out-of-the-way places. Stories to tell all your life. And she’s envious. She wants to have adventures like that. Memories like that.
A few shots later, when the edges of the night smudge into drunkenness, more people discover the ladder.
“Welcome!” someone shouts grandiosely from the other side of the roof every time another new person arrives.
Claire watches as heads pop up over the edge, invariably excited when they see the private little party they’ve found. One couple slow dances, laughing hysterically as they waltz clumsily around a flat section of the roof, nowhere near in time with the music playing below.
A girl with short black hair clambers up and struggles with her long dress as she tries to get her leg onto the roof. When she finally makes it, the hem gathered in a bunch in her hands, she kneels and calls to someone below. Another person pops up behind her, head tipped back, laughing in response to whatever the girl has said. It takes Claire a moment in the semi-darkness to realise the second head is Mia’s. Claire watches her step from the ladder to the roof somewhat more gracefully than her companion, her long legs making the climb easily.
As she stands at the top of the ladder and stares, transfixed by the sweeping view like everyone does when they get up here, Robbie clearly spots her, too. He lets out a loud wolf whistle, and as if she knows exactly who it is, Mia turns, locates him in the semi-darkness, and waves. But she doesn’t come over.
Mia follows the girl over to the side of the roof facing the front of the house. They clutch each other’s arms as they cautiously step to the edge. They sit unsteadily with their legs hanging over and their shoulders nearly touching.
For a second, Claire feels a flash of envy at their easy intimacy as they sit and talk and laugh right in her eye line. Then she immediately checks herself for being so possessive. It’s not as if Mia is exclusively her friend. Mia’s the kind of person who will attract new people all the time, so there is no point in being jealous. Mia can talk to someone at a party.
Maybe she’s jealous because she stayed with Mia when her parents were gone. Claire’s stupidly started to think of Mia as her person, somehow. She shakes her head. Not smart. Mia has got her people already, like Robbie. And then there’s her best friend, Kristen. Maybe it’s just because Claire wanted to hang out with her tonight. After that intense stretch of being in each other’s company, being each other’s support, Claire felt almost bereft when she went home.
It doesn’t really matter though, because they’ll all be going to the lake in a few days. They’ll have plenty of time to hang out then. She turns back to the conversation. Pete and Jeremy are talking about medicine now. Pete is mid story, something about a botched operation he heard about at school, all guts and goo and stupid mistakes. She tunes out again. She’s had enough hospital gore of late.
She looks up in time to see Mia and the girl stand and step back from the edge of the roof. The girl says something to Mia and throws up her arms and laughs. She overbalances, and Mia quickly grabs her arm to steady her, though the girl was at no real risk of falling. As the girl regains her footing, she grabs Mia’s waist. And Claire stares as that hand stays right where it is on Mia’s waist as they continue to laugh and talk. Claire feels a blush creep up her face as she comes to the sudden realisation that the hand on that waist means maybe this isn’t Mia making a new friend. She bites her lip, looks away, and takes a swig of her beer, trying to stem the flush. She wasn’t expecting that.
Before she can stop herself, she surreptitiously glances at them again. The girl no longer has her hand on Mia, but she is standing really close and saying something. Mia nods slowly. Then the girl reaches over, rests her fingers briefly on Mia’s stomach, leans in, and says something to her again. And then they turn in unison and walk toward the ladder. The girl goes over first, with her dress looped over her arm. Mia pauses at the top, crouched by the ladder, and looks in their direction before she swings her foot over the side of the roof. Claire wonders fleetingly if she called out, would Mia come back to them? Just as quickly, Claire turns away, back to the huddle by the chimney. Why would she do that? That’s insane. Let Mia do whatever it is she’s doing with that girl. It’s none of her business.
