How the Cold Hearts Beat [HS]

Chapter Three

It was twelve o’clock by the time Lana parked in front of Savitka’s house. I stepped out, surprised to feel the warm air so late into the night. Maggie, who had waited faithfully on one of the benches near the large front entrance, leapt up from her seat and ran over to greet us each with a large, beer-scented hug.

“I’m so glad you guys made it!” she squealed.

“You look so pretty!” Lana exclaimed. Maggie tossed a couple of blonde ringlets over her shoulder, shrugging.

“Thanks,” she said, followed by a giggle. “Guys, I’ve been waiting for so long! Let’s go inside and grab some drinks, please?” Maggie pouted. There was a stark, clear line between her red lipstick and her actual lip when she did that.

I look over at Lana. “Let’s get started right away, then,” I said. Lana agreed, and we followed Maggie into the house.

The inside would have been packed if there was less space, but there was plenty of space, and Lana pointed out that the night was only getting started.

The first thing that was there when we walked in was the large, spiraling staircase. Around it, elegant furniture had been set up over white-wood flooring, and red carpets ran through the space. The red cups and beer cans looked out of place as they were strewn on top of pillows and all over the floor.

“So, where are Savitka’s parents at the moment?” I asked nonchalantly.

Maggie giggled again. “In Jamaica. Savitka told me it was their anniversary or something,” she said.

There were three punch bowls set up around the house because of its large size, but we migrated to the closest one, which was in the nearest of the two kitchens on the first floor. It was set up on a large, marble counter. Three stacks of beer were set up on one side, and on the other, cans of soda waited for the less adventurous. I reached for a Sprite while Lana and Maggie both poured themselves some punch into their red plastic cups.

“You know, that could have been spiked. Or drugged. Or both,” I pointed out a little nervously.

Lana just shrugged, brushing my comment off. “It smells fruity and sweet and, gosh, I haven’t been to a party in so long.”

“Do you guys want to go look for some people to hang with? The basement has been turned into a dance floor,” Maggie said cheerfully. I was beginning to suspect that she had a few drinks way before we had arrived.

“Oh, I don’t think Cara wants to dance,” Lana said quietly, followed by taking a quick sip of her punch. When she determined it was safe, she took a bigger gulp.

I scoffed playfully. “Maybe I do want to dance. Seriously guys, I’ll go wherever you guys go. I mean, I’m not that lame.”

A couple of junior boys—jocks, I thought—stumbled into the kitchen loudly. At the sight of them, Maggie quickly ushered us out of the kitchen. “So, the basement?” she asked. Lana and I nodded.

We walked past a few rooms until we reached the glass, spiraling stairs dropping down into the basement. It was dark in there, to set the mood, and someone had installed a temporary disco lamp on the ceiling that flashed colorful lights on all of the walls. Couches and chairs from the dining rooms lined the walls while the center had been transformed into a sort of dance floor. Near the stairs, an iPod was connected to the large stereo set, which pounded against the walls with its blasting music. The people in the center were jumping and fist-pumping. Around them, couples—or maybe not couples—were grinding and dancing against each other. Around that group, people were just standing around, talking and taking sips of their drinks.

“There’s Tasha and Amy. We have to go talk to them,” Maggie demanded, so we followed her. I gave Amy a hug and noticed she was a little tipsy—her voice was a higher pitch than normal and her feet were shaking in her red, five-inch tall heels that looked more painful than appropriate.

“Cara, you made it!” Amy said in disbelief. “I’ve never seen you so dressed up before.”

“Me neither,” I said, and our little group laughed.

Tasha, who was significantly taller with her own pair of heels, looked down at me with a sort of look I didn’t find as pleasant. She cleared her throat. “Did you bring a date?” she asked, but it sounded more like a statement.

“No, I’m single,” I began, feeling as if that was not the right response because Tasha only frowned.

“You don’t have to be taken to bring a date, you know that, right?” she asked. Her voice was throaty and deep, and I barely heard her over the music, which was loud and propelled the crowd further into the basement to speed up their fist pumping. “Ugh, whatever.”

Lana patted my shoulder. “What’s upstairs, Maggie?”

“Bedrooms,” I said, and Maggie laughed.

“And bathrooms,” she added. “Lots of people getting it on. Oh, but you know, they have a large sitting area right near the rails that look down at the front door. We can go there later.”

“Don’t they have an attic as well?” I ask. I kept switching the Sprite from hand to hand because it’s cold to hold on to, and Tasha keeps eyeing it weirdly. I remembered the attic only because Savitka and I used to climb up there and talk in middle school, when we were still extremely close.

“It’s off limits,” Tasha said.

“There are college boys here,” Amy chimed in. I smiled. She said, “They’re having a spin the bottle thing going on upstairs, you know.”

“Amy, Cara isn’t even legal yet,” Lana said jokingly.

“She will be soon, though,” Amy said. “C’mon, let’s go upstairs! Please?” My eyes widened.

“You guys can go,” Maggie said. “Tasha and I will stay down here. We’re waiting for her friends, right?” She elbowed Tasha, who only looked irritated.

Amy continued to beg, and Lana looked at me, and I just shrugged. I’ve never played spin the bottle, not even with people from my own school, so playing it with college guys might be weird. It’s not that I think kissing a stranger is gross, but I’m unsure about this. “Whatever, it’s only for tonight,” Lana said. I nodded, agreeing, but secretly, I had no idea what I was getting into and I surely didn’t think I was going to be kissing anyone tonight.

“Yay!” Amy squealed, grabbing my arm and pulling me to the stairs. Lana said bye to Maggie and Tasha and said that we would catch up with them again. Then, she followed us, and I immediately started to regret it.