“Glitter,” Mia had told him in a hiss on the last day of classes before they’d all split for the holidays. “Clare’s parties are always glitter and ice.”
Jared had forced a smile and nodded. There was no way in hell he was going to dress in anything glittery for the party. Since his waistband had grown tighter on his diet of cinnamon buns and foot-high baked ham sandwiches, he went with a loose, comfortable pair of dark jeans and a black button-down shirt. The black was strategic; if anyone threw any damn glitter at him, it would show up and possibly hide his lack of effort.
“Going out?” Hadley asked as he stopped in the kitchen to grab a bottle of liquor. They had enough of the damn stuff to open their own store, so he wasn’t about to go and buy any.
His aunt was sitting at the island in the middle of the kitchen with a sketchpad, and her glasses perched on the edge of her nose, drawing aimlessly as Nat King Cole crooned over the stereo.
“It’s New Year’s,” he said with an incredulous look. “You aren’t going out?”
She laughed, a tinkling sound. “Of course I am. We’re going into the city tonight. But I don’t think anyone’s leaving ’til eleven.”
Jared sighed. Of course, his aunt was way too cool to be seen anywhere before midnight.
“Well, don’t turn into a pumpkin,” he said and snagged a bottle of Jack from the counter.
She grinned at him and waved good-bye with her pencil as he went to the garage. The truck stayed parked out front. The pink Cadillac though, she got special treatment, and was kept locked up, under cover.
The car purred to life, and Jared pulled smoothly out onto the drive. He was good at this now, knowing how the car handled, when to let it rumble and when to push her to the max. Chris had kept his vow and bought a vintage white Mustang to replace the car he’d given away, and seemed enamored with the new vehicle. Jared was pleased for him.
Clare lived in possibly the most exclusive corner of the already-expensive island. Sure, Adam’s place was quirky and cool, and Chris’s was bold and brash, but Clare’s parents were clearly old money. He wasn’t surprised. She held herself with the sort of snobbery that spoke of deep-rooted entitlement.
He left the Caddy parked haphazardly in front of the stone steps that led up to the house, forcing other guests to walk around it.
This party was different from the others, and Jared, at first, couldn’t put his finger on why. He did the same as always, exploring on his own until he found the kitchen, then fixed a drink and wandered some more. The house was almost clinically white, and smelled of beeswax and something expensive. The carpets were thick and luxurious under his feet, and he winced as freshmen in inadvisable shoes ground their icepick heels into the plush.
The difference between the two parties dawned on him as he found a parlor room where the DJ was set up; there were far fewer people here than usual. The lack of partiers wasn’t likely to be due to Clare’s lack of popularity, more like her attempt at exclusivity. Clare wasn’t going to let the hoi polloi into her expensive Georgian-style home. Only the very best got a pass.
For that reason alone, Jared wondered why he was here.
After a nod at Chris, and raising his glass to Clare, who was dressed in a blood-red gown that made her skin look paler, her hair darker, Jared continued to wander. He wasn’t in the mood for them tonight, the king and queen of Harbor Academy with their sense of entitlement.
In the basement, Jared found the real party.
It had been converted into the game room of many a teenage boy’s wet dream. Two pool tables competed for space at the end of the room, then game stations lined the walls, each with a sixty-five-inch TV and proper gamer’s chairs.
Boys he recognized from around school were either absorbed in Mortal Combat or Grand Theft Auto while others cheered them on in little clusters. There was a small bar tucked away in one corner; Jared guessed more than bottles of Bud were crammed into the small fridge space.
A group of people were congregated on sofas and beanbags in the center of the room, half watching the revolving games of pool, some with an eye on the video games. Most of them, around thirty or so, were just chatting.
Jared let his shoulders sag in relief. This, he could cope with.
“Jared!” someone called, and he met Mia’s smile with a genuine one of his own.
“Hey,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “You look great.”
It was a standard greeting now. All the girls liked to be told how good they looked, and Jared was happy to oblige.
“You know most people,” Mia said to him rather than the group at large. “That’s my cousin, Ben, and my other cousins, Emma and Piper.”
Jared nodded a greeting and raised his glass to the now infamous Ben “Macklemore” Haggerty. “Nice to meet you,” he said, wondering why on earth the guy was at a high school New Year’s Eve party. Whatever.
He couldn’t see Adam anywhere, and that was good, for now. Settling on the arm of one of the leather couches, he watched and listened for a while, occasionally adding to the conversation when he had something worth saying.
It would probably always be like this for him—included, but on the outskirts of the Harbor Academy social group. Even if he could go back in time and enroll at the tender age of thirteen with the rest of the kids, he wouldn’t have done it. The outsider’s perspective had made him appreciate things in a different
