An Exchange

Chapter Seven - Friday Night

October, 2004

Penny

Zara picked me up to go to Dylan’s. I felt uncomfortable as I slid into her cutesy bright yellow mini. Zara smiled, flipped her perfect hair back. “Are you ready?”

Not really. I sensed she didn’t like me, but I’d never hung out with ‘popular’ people before. I thought I’d give it a shot, since it was only a girls’ night.

Dylan lived in the richer part of town. Her house was double story with a basement. Perfectly manicured gardens filled the large lot, surrounded by high vine-covered fences. Cars filled the front lawn when we arrived. I glanced at Zara, confused.

She smiled sweetly. “These things are very popular. Dylan is pretty amazing.”

“Looks like.”

“Come on. You’re the guest of honor after all.”

I followed Zara into the grand house. Music boomed out of it, and as we entered, more than just girls filled the house. I tensed. A party. A trick. A couple snuck into a room. A group of boys pushed by me carrying a case of beer.

I turned to Zara but she had gone. I had to get out. This wasn’t something I wanted to be involved in. I scanned the room for a phone, but I couldn’t see one, so I made my way through the house. I entered an area that looked like a bar overlooking the pool and backyard.

As I glanced around, a girl flopped into my arms.

“Hey you!” She giggled. Her breath smelled strongly of beer. She smiled as she gazed into my face. “You’re that Australian girl!” She tried to stand and point at me, but flopped back into my arms.

“Are you all right?” I tried to lift her to her feet.

“I’m doing pretty well, how about you?” She burst into laughter.

One of the African American boys rushed over and lifted her off me. “Come on, Maria.”

“No, I don’t want to!” she said in a whiney voice as she struggled against him.

“A little help?” he asked, looking at me.

I reached over and grabbed her hand. “Let’s go over there and sit down for a chat, eh?”

She looked at me with a ridiculous grin. “You know, you talk funny.”

She moved with no protest as we slipped outside onto the balcony and leaned against the railing. The girl, Maria, flopped against it laughing. The boy and I grabbed her elbows to keep her on her feet.

She looked over her shoulder at me. “I’m Maria, and this is my brotha’ from another motha’, Ray.”

She gave him a slap across the chest, then grabbed a glass of spirits from a boy walking by. Ray snatched it from her before she could drink any. She wailed.

I tried to think of something to quiet her down. “So, are you Italian, Spanish...?”

“I am Mexican, thank you!” she snapped, then lurched. Ray and I spun her around and I pulled her long hair back before she vomited.

When she stopped, she looked at me again. “You know, you're in show choir with Ray and me.” Her legs trembled underneath her. “We always want to talk to you, but you're always surrounded by everyone.”

“I think you need to stop now, Maria.” Ray mumbled.

“But why...” She trailed off and stared ahead.

Following her gaze, I saw Marty on the bench at the bar with a crowd around him chanting his name.

“Marty,” Maria whispered.