The chaperones look as sappy and chagrined as ever, anxiously guarding the punchbowl but not closely enough. While the Mutant covers her mouth so she won’t laugh aloud, under cover of the closed bleachers, Jimmy Bouchard pisses in an empty soda can. Sidling up to the punchbowl while a confederate distracts the chaperones, Jimmy spikes it with vitamin pee. Wherever the chaperones aren’t looking, kids spill soft drinks from cans and bottles into sinks and fountains, onto the parking lot or into the bushes around the building, and top the remaining soda with popskull vodka or rum. From her perch, the Mutant can smell the alcohol.
Grey hangs on Jimmy and the bikers. She had wanted to go to Lewiston with J.C. but he had ignored first her hints and then an outright request, and finally told her to fuck off, he was sick of her whining. Just the thing to make her bite her lip and stick her chin out. Out to the parking lot repeatedly, she’s gotten shrill and ragged.
Lexie too has been turned down. J.C. can get into bars with his fake ID but she’s just too obviously underage to pass. But she isn’t Grey. She’s going to prove herself to him. So the younger girl works the crowd, flirting, taking a sip of a spiked soda here and there, making connections for J.C. All the soda she’s drinking seems to take her to the girls’ room repeatedly. Guys loiter outside the lavatories, seemingly waiting for girlfriends. Within a tight radius of the lavs, Lexie lightens her handbag and fattens J.C.’s wallet.
As midnight approaches, there are departures to parties in various homes or parking spots where the New Year can be greeted with California fizz out of sight of authorities. People come in from the parking lot with juiced sodas in their hands and bottles of sparkling cider to blow off when the year changes. From above, the Mutant watches the foaming geysers erupt from shaken bottles at the appointed instant of celebration.
A few minutes later, she tromps down the snow on the outdoor court. The parking lot is emptying steadily but there are still quite a few kids hanging on, and canned music erupts spasmodically as the people exit the gym.
Grey and Lexie peer through the fence. Grey lights a cigarette, drops it, picks it up, muttering to herself.
Lexie rattles the fence. “Mutant, you evil bitch, come on. Let’s go find a party before they’re all fucking over!”
The Mutant slams her ball against the backboard. The ball squishes into the snow and lies dead. The Mutant picks it up, places it carefully and then kicks it over the fence. It sails in a high, graceful curve, thunks down on the roof of an unoccupied truck and then bounces onto the hood of a Chevy Blazer.
Pete Fosse erupts from the Blazer, followed by Todd Gramolini, Tim Kasten, Bither and Billy Rank.
Billy scoops up the ball. His eyes are as opaque and rubbery as the ball he holds up over his head with a sloppy grin.
Loping across the lot, the Mutant jumps for the ball but Pete lunges forward to pluck it away.
Rank laughs foolishly.
“No way.” Pete tips her ball into his Blazer. “I’m keeping it.”
The Mutant shrugs and raises one finger.
The guys hoot mockingly.
“She told you, Pee-ter,” Bither observes.
Grey and Lexie pick their way, stumbling and giggling, from the outdoor court.
“Party time,” Pete murmurs to Todd.
Pete inserts himself between Lexie and Grey, an arm around the waist of each girl.
Todd flings a convivial arm around the Mutant’s shoulders. “Ladies, it’s cold out here. We do anything to warm you up?”
The Mutant snorts derisively and ducks out from under Gramolini’s arm.
Lexie squints at Pete. “If you got the bucks and some matches, I got something to build a fire with.”
She opens her bag and he peeks in. “No shit. How much?”
Lexie hangs on his neck to whisper in his ear.
“Pass the plate,” he tells Todd.
“Not here,” Todd objects. “Someplace private.”
“Count me out,” Tim Kasten says. “See ya around, guys.”
They watch Tim lope across the parking lot and catch up with other friends of his.
Pete squeezes Lexie. “How’s a little trip to camp sound?”
Bither and Billy Rank clamber into the Blazer. Pete picks up Lexie and passes her, wriggling and squealing, back to them and Grey climbs in behind her. Leaning into the open front seat, the Mutant makes a grab for her ball. Behind her, Gramolini grasps her by the waist and boosts her to the front seat. He jumps in behind her and drops an arm over her shoulders again, giving her an ironic little smile. Pete takes the wheel.
The Mutant kicks back, heels to the dashboard. Fosses’ camp. Bound to be warmer than the Mill. She doesn’t have to do anything but be friendly until they get there, then she can tell them all to fuck off and find a corner to crash in. They won’t stop partying just to drag her back to Greenspark.
Todd slips a hand under her T-shirt. “Want a beer?”
Scornfully, she removes his hand and he laughs.
Pete straightens up behind the wheel. “Play it smart, guys. Beer on the floor, no horseshit. I mean it.”
The Mutant glances behind her at Lexie. Bither’s whispering in little Lexie’s ear. Eyes wet and blurry, Grey is smoking a butt. Billy has the glassy stupid look of a mutt thrilled to be getting a ride in the family car.
“Pete,” the Mutant says.
“Yeah?”
“Lexie’s thirteen.”
He winks. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Lexie kicks the seat behind the Mutant. “Mind your own business, bitch.”
The guys laugh the way guys do.
Pete squeezes the Mutant’s knee. “Relax, Gauthier. This is going to be a good time. I got a couple bottles of champagne.”
Geez. If Flem hadn’t picked New Year’s Eve to have a bustup with Pete, Cady could have gotten blasted on Pete’s champagne and had a legitimate reason to puke. It is a thought to make the Mutant smile.
Fosses’ camp is nicer than the house
