I start to turn back around, hoping he’s not talking to me. He grabs my arm.
“Don’t be like that. I’m talking to you,” he says. Deep black lines shadow his eyes, and tattoos of teeth stretch down over his lips. “I’ve got a question.”
“Shoot,” I say, struggling to keep my voice steady. The man’s lips part, but I can’t tell if he’s smiling at me or grimacing.
“My friends and I are taking a poll.” He nods to a group of people standing by the apartment door. They’re all pierced and tattooed, but next to Skull Guy they look like members of a church group. “If you could choose how you were going to die, would you rather be beaten to death with a shovel or have your face eaten off?”
I swallow, trying to keep my nerves from showing on my face. The guy might be freaky looking, but he just wants to get a reaction out of me. It’s all just part of his game.
“I’d go for the face,” I say, meeting his gaze. “I’d want to look my killer in the eye.”
This time I’m sure Skull Guy smiles at me. The white-and-black cheekbone tattoos stretch across his face when his lips part. “Solid,” he says, bumping my fist.
I nod at a couple more people as I walk past, trying to look like I belong. The music pounds around me, an insistent bomp bomp bomp. Once inside, I push my sweatshirt hood back and glance around the room. It’s smoky and dark. Bodies crowd around me, packed so tightly I can’t move without bumping someone’s arm or back. The floor is sticky, littered with empty beer cans.
I can’t believe I worried this would be anything like my last party. It’s a completely different world. I’ve never heard the music before, and I don’t think any of the people here actually go to our school. A girl with long, white-blond hair and glassy eyes passes a tiny bag of powder to another girl in a leather jacket, then walks away without glancing at her. I weave through the crowd to a table covered in booze and beer. I grab the single can of off-brand soda sitting next to a case of PBR, just so I have something to do with my hands.
A voice rises above the music, startling me. “Sofia!”
I turn and, through the sea of people pushing in on me, spot Charlie waving his hands above his head like he’s signaling planes. If I were a cartoon character, my mouth would drop to the floor and exclamation points would shoot out of my eyes—that’s how excited I am to see him standing there, wearing a worn T-shirt with some faded sports logo on it and a dark gray zip-up sweatshirt. He moves around a crowd of guys to stand in front of me and says something I can’t hear over the noise. I smile so wide the corners of my mouth threaten to split.
“What?” I shout.
He grins back at me, and even in the dark I notice the dimple in his cheek. Pushing the hair from my neck, he leans in close enough that his breath warms my skin.
“It’s loud,” he says. “Wanna go outside?”
“Sure.”
Charlie takes my hand, and we head for the back of the apartment to a smudged sliding glass door. I crack open my soda as Charlie pushes through the door and we slip outside. Cold air rushes to greet me, and I shiver, almost glad the can is warm, even if the soda tastes terrible.
“You seem to be the only other person here not trying to get completely hammered,” Charlie says once we’ve left the pounding music behind.
“I’m not a big drinker,” I say. Charlie nods.
“Me neither.” He smiles at me again, that dimple appearing in his cheek. My stomach flips.
“I’m glad you’re here. I don’t really know anyone else.” Charlie glances around at the kids sprawled on lawn chairs and hovering near the apartment door. At first I don’t recognize any of them, either, but then I spot Tom wearing a backward baseball cap. He leans forward, passing his cigarette to a cute girl with black dreadlocks and thick glasses. The girl giggles at something he says, then leans in to kiss him. I cringe. Grace would be devastated.
Charlie sees him, too. “I know Tom, I guess. But he’s been preoccupied. Josh said he was coming, but I haven’t seen him. And now I know you.”
“Josh is coming to this party?” I didn’t think this was Josh’s scene—he seems so preppy, like Riley. Charlie shrugs.
I glance around at the patchy grass and dirty white lawn chairs. Beyond them, I see the outlines of a slide, a swing set, and what I assume is a pool surrounded by high wooden fencing. Despite the cold weather, I hear giggling and splashing.
A smile creeps across my face. I pull on Charlie’s sleeve. “Come on. I have a plan.”
“Are we going swimming?” Charlie asks when I start to lead him toward the pool.
“It’s, like, fifty degrees out!” I pull my sweatshirt tighter around my shoulders. “Besides, I don’t have a suit.”
”Why should that stop you?”
I groan and push him toward the slide instead. The playground equipment is made of that old steel that isn’t used at schools anymore, because people are afraid kids will impale themselves on the sharp metal while playing. I approach the slide hesitantly and test the bottom ladder rung to make sure it’ll hold my weight.
“Are you serious?” Charlie says. I raise an eyebrow in challenge.
“It’s either the slide with me, or you go back to the party to hang out with people who don’t even remember their names. Your choice.”
Charlie purses his lips, pretending to think this over. “Which people, exactly?”
I pick up a rock and threaten to throw it at him, and he raises his hands in surrender, laughing. “Kidding, kidding.” He jogs to the bottom of the slide and crouches down. “Okay, go. I’ll catch you.”
“I don’t need you to catch me,” I say. I set my soda down on the ground and climb up the ladder, perching on top of the slide. Charlie grins.
“Of course you do.” He grabs the sides of the slide with both hands and shakes, causing the entire thing to rattle. “This thing is a death trap.”
Despite the coolness of the night, the metal is warm beneath my hands. I push myself down, and as I start to gather speed, I shriek. Charlie grabs my shoulders before I hit the dirt and holds me steady.
“You okay?” he asks. He actually looks concerned. “I can’t believe they let kids on that thing.”
“Your turn,” I say, pushing myself back to my feet.
Charlie grins and races around to the ladder. The entire slide rocks as he climbs, the metal creaking so badly I’m convinced it’s about to fall apart.
“Shit,” Charlie says as he settles at the top. “Now I have so much more respect for you for going first.”
“Well, I’m a rebel.”
“Here goes nothing.” Charlie pushes off and shoots down the slide. Somewhere along the way he goes into warp speed, and then he’s not sliding anymore—he’s flying—and I can’t move out of the way before he tumbles into me. We both roll backward, hitting the dirt in a tangle of limbs.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, pushing himself onto an elbow. He doesn’t roll off me right away. “Did I break you?”
“No.” I keep my arms still because I don’t trust myself not to grab his sweatshirt and pull him even closer. I clear my throat. “You’re . . . fine.”
Charlie tilts his head, and I wonder if he can tell what I’m thinking. “I’m really glad you’re here, Sofia,” he says.
“Yeah, well, I did break your fall,” I say. He still doesn’t move away from me. He brushes a curl off my forehead and shakes his head like I’m missing something.
“It’s not just that. I’m glad to see you.”
The night instantly grows ten degrees warmer. “Why?”
“You’re joking, right?” Charlie eyes lose focus. He’s about to kiss me. I inhale, hoping the warm soda hasn’t made my mouth taste gross. But he just runs his thumb along my jaw, tracing from my ear to my chin, like he’s memorizing my face.