I don’t see Dev anywhere. Maybe he’s with Sean; though the last time I spoke to Dev, it sounded like he hated both of us. I know we broke up, but I didn’t expect him to cut me off completely. He won’t even answer my phone calls. I find myself wanting to talk to him every day, the only rational person in my life, and now he’s just gone. It’s brutal. And it’s all my doing.
Cate and I walk in. Donnie and Suki are catching up later.
Past the bartender, in the corner of the room, I see Amanda Shire.
A friend of hers, Satya Ferris, her Cate, her henchman or henchwoman, whatever, sits next to her. Obviously Satya never lost her freshman fifteen because she doesn’t look like the anorexic girl I knew when I was a freshman. The girl who echoed Amanda Shire’s sentiments. The girl who told me to listen up. The girl who said I should smile.
Most people see Amanda as a mythical creature. When she comes home it’s like they bring out the parade floats. Amanda Shire. Sitting and flipping her hair at a dive bar full of underage kids. Maybe it was just me who saw her as a mythical creature. The weird things I noticed. Her hairless skin. Her soft blond eyelashes. How she had no trace of anything out of place ever. Even when she sat cross-legged in a bikini at Bry Jacobson’s pool party. Her skin, under there, near the outline of her bikini bottom, near perfect. No shade or stubble. No red dots like I have. No ingrown hairs.
“Amanda Shire.”
Her face lights up. She jumps too quickly.
“Lil sis.” Air-kiss.
“What are you doing here?” I say, air-kiss back.
“I guess I just want to see who will show up. But I don’t even know anyone anymore.”
“That’s because you’ve aged out of the Sweep,” I say.
She side-eyes me. “You’ve gotten ambitious, Blythe.”
I’ve become you, I want to say.
“Remember all those times riding for pizza instead of going to the gym at the end of school in Billy Casten’s car? Remember Bry’s pool parties? Remember Kramer? You were the cute little mascot. So eager to please. Such a beautiful girl so early on.” She sips her drink. She orders a round of shots and passes them to me and Cate. I drink it, the alcohol burning the back of my throat like it always does. But I want to keep up with her. I want her to know that I’m not really behind her the way she thinks I am. I’m way ahead.
She passes me another shot. It goes down easier this time. My mind fills with more rage. Something easy-going and moody plays on the jukebox—the whole music collection is from the 1980s. That jukebox is like a treasure chest. It’s on automatic. The owner doesn’t want anyone touching it. It’s the nicest thing in this place.
The words beat out like soft rockets.
My body fuzzy from the shots. I stare at her. She doesn’t even look at me. Just through me. Over me. Looking for anyone. Opportunist. She’s just waiting for someone to arrive. My neck stiffens. My hands squirm. All of it right here in my throat.
“I’m not leading the Initiation this year.”
“What did you say?”
“I’m not leading the Initiation,” I say, repeating myself, but louder this time.
“Oh, no?” Her face pinches. Her forehead stuck in irritated lines. “Then who is?”
“Hopefully no one,” I say. “Hopefully not a freaking soul.”
She hops off her barstool and slides in close to me. I can feel Cate next to me, her body moving in too. Her arm to my arm.
“You don’t even know what goes on in half these schools in the country, do you? And I’m not talking about sexual predators who you read about in the news. I’m talking about guys you know who just ignore all the signals and pretend like everything they’ve ever learned means nothing. And then they feel bad the next day. They feel oh. So. Bad.” She and Satya make these little pouty faces.
“You’re still in high school,” Satya says. “You don’t even know.”
“Don’t you get it, Blythe? This Initiation, it was a social experiment. It’s not perfect. But it worked. It worked for a reason. You don’t know what it was like before we started doing it. Girls were afraid to go to parties. And I’m not talking frat parties. I’m talking high school parties. A girl was raped with a fucking toilet plunger,” she says. “Do you not understand, Blythe? We did that to help girls . . . we helped you.”
I snort—too loud, but I don’t care. I’ve already done too much to turn around from here. All the humiliation from that night as a freshman turning into anger.
“You helped girls by shoving dicks in our mouths?”
She comes closer, breathes in my face. Her breath full of tequila and whatever else she drank.
“First of all, lower your voice.”
“First of all, I’m not one of your sorority sisters.”
I see Donnie and Suki walk in.
“Everyone wants something from you, Blythe. You might as well give it to them in advance, because that’s when you have the control. Not at a party when you’re wasted. Not when you’re in some room with a guy all by yourself and you don’t even know what’s happening. When you’re doing it to them. That’s when you have the power. Don’t you get it?”
“What’s going on?” Donnie says, interrupting. Her body taking up space between me and Amanda.
“Your friend Blythe has gotten some things wrong.”
“I doubt it,” Donnie says.
“I’m not doing the Initiation. No one’s doing it. It’s over,” I say. “That’s what’s happening.”
“If this is going to be a thing?” Amanda says.
“There’s no thing,” Cate says.
“Oh, Blythe.” She whispers my name like she’s casting a spell over it. “Do you know he lost his virginity to me?” Amanda grabs my hand, jerks me toward her.
“What?”
“Sean. He was my little angel for a whole
