Paper Flowers (Pretty Plastic People) ★

010. On the Back Porch

010. On the Back Porch

At Aquino High, perfection is only a mask.

By seven o'clock in the evening, I would have thought I'd be feeling better, but I feel just as terrible as I had the moment Spencer walked away. I'm standing in front of my mirror in a burgundy bandage party dress, my hair curled and my makeup done perfectly. Somehow, though, I don't feel strong and powerful like I'd expected.

Chewing down on my lip, I reach for my phone and check the clock for the fifth time in the past ten minutes. It's 7:02—Taylor's party started at seven but Cassidy and Brynn insisted they'd pick me up at 7:15. They tell me it's no use showing up at a party when it's just beginning and nobody's really there yet. I agree: I just want to get in and out of the crowded house as quickly as I possibly can.

I try not to think about what happened earlier that day as I slide on my black heels and grab my clutch from my nightstand. Already I'm sweating from nerves, but I push my hair away from my bare shoulders and eye myself regally in the mirror. I look panicked and afraid, so I push my shoulders back a little further and jut out my chin. Better.

Half an hour later, I'm standing in the entryway of Taylor's house with Brynn and Cassidy flanking me on either side. It's hard to picture what the house looks like empty, since right now it's filled with bodies dancing, calling out to each other, and causing a general ruckus. But I know all too well what it looks like quiet and serene—I haven't been inside since before our beach trip last summer, when everything was normal, but I have a feeling it hasn't changed much at all. The same family portraits line the entryway, and I wonder for a second how things would be different if Allison were included inside the frames.

Someone tugs on my arm. "I'm going to go find Taylor," says Brynn. When I turn to her I see she is toying with the palm tree necklace, the charm disappearing just below the neckline of her shift dress.

"Why?" I hiss. I look to my other side for Cassidy's support, but she's already started mingling. "You have nothing to say to each other."

"I should just thank him for hosting it," she insists. Before I can open my mouth to discourage her, she's slipped away, too.

I guess because my friends aren't accustomed to having me tag along at parties, they think it's perfectly normal to leave me stranded in the doorway. But I don't frequent these social gatherings like they do, and even though I've been to my fair share of parties I don't know who I should approach or what I should do. Most of the people surrounding me are strangers or loose acquaintances from some class or another, and I don't want to talk to any of them.

A brush against my arm directs my attention to my right. Spencer is slipping through the throngs of teenagers, his mint green shirt visible even in the dim light. Since I have nothing better to do, I trail after him.

He makes a stop in Taylor's kitchen, where he helps himself to the contents of the fridge as if he lives there. He doesn't notice me until he turns around and leans against the counter to pop open his can of beer.

"I didn't know you drank," I say in place of a greeting.

He holds the can up to his lips and takes a long sip. "We've established that we don't know each other anymore."

I continue to study him and then shift my attention to his drink, watching with fascination as beads of condensation trickle down onto his hand. The silence grows until it's awkward and tangible. I expected that I'd have something to say to him, but now the moment's here and I don't even know where to start.