All We Can Do Is Wait(51)

“Costas,” she said, as always calling him by his last name. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Why did no one expect him to go to these things? “Well, I’m on the team,” he said, trying to sound upbeat, but it coming out more grumbling and defensive.

“I know, dude. You just, like, don’t come to the other ones!”

“I went to your birthday party, didn’t I?”

“That you did,” Maddy said. “That you did. Worked out pretty well for you, from what I can tell.”

Aimee. He wanted to text Aimee. Or call Aimee, even though they so rarely talked on the phone.

“It did,” he said instead. “Thanks, uh, thanks for that.”

“Any time,” Maddy said, giving him a hard-to-read smile. “Hey, you wanna go inside? It’s fucking freezing out here.”

It was. “Yeah, sure.” He followed Maddy back into the party. She led him through the packed living room, through the kitchen, where she grabbed them two beers, and down a hall toward a closed door. “What’s in there?” Scott asked.

“Peace and quiet,” Maddy said, opening the door to reveal some kind of study, shelves crammed with books and plaques. Maddy pointed at the plaques, gold mounted on dark wood. “Those are Stein’s dad’s, like, judge trophies or whatever.” Mr. Stein was a high-level circuit judge, a stern and imposing man who often stood on the sidelines of Sam’s games barking things at his son. Maddy lowered her voice. “We are not supposed to be in here, but whatever. Stein won’t mind. He and I go way back.”

They sat on a squeaking leather sofa, Maddy pulling her long hair behind her shoulders and settling in, taking a sip of beer. “So where’s Aimee?”

Scott looked down at his beer. He hadn’t really spoken to Maddy one-on-one before. She ran in an intimidating crowd of junior and senior kids who were among the coolest, most popular people at North. “Uh, at home. She just got back from a college tour trip, so she’s tired.”

“Oh Godddd,” Maddy groaned. “I guess I should be doing those too, huh?”

“I guess. I dunno. I really don’t want her to leave.”

“Awww! You’re so sweet. Of course you don’t.”

“Yeah. We kinda . . . got in a fight about it tonight, actually.”

“Oh no! What happened?”

“She was just going on and on about how great these schools were, in, like, Chicago and Ohio and stuff. And I got kinda pissed. Because, like, she seems so excited about leaving.”

“Yeah. That’s bad. I dated a senior—do you remember Chris Bender? So hot—when I was a sophomore, and it was rough when he was doing all that shit.”

“It sucks!” Scott said, louder than he meant to. Maddy laughed.

“You’re so cute. But it’ll be O.K. Just, I dunno, just try to enjoy her while you have her. Aimee and I are only juniors. We’re not leaving anytime soon, unfortunately!”

That was true. But it already felt like Aimee had one foot out the door. Like she’d turned away from Scott, and the present, and was only looking ahead. “I guess.”

“Look,” Maddy said, leaning forward and putting a hand on Scott’s arm. “I’m not hitting on you, I promise. But look. She’s gonna leave at some point, sure. But you guys have, like, a year and a half. So just try to enjoy it. And then you can figure out if you’re staying together or what later on. Cross that goddamned bridge when you get to it, you know?” She smiled at Scott, took a swig from her bottle.

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks. You’re right. What happened with you and your boyfriend? With Chris?”

“Oh, we fucking broke up, like, immediately after he graduated,” Maddy said, letting out a cackle of a laugh. “Sorry, sorry. But that’s the truth. And it was different. He was an asshole. I’m an asshole. But you and Aimee are both not assholes. You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks. Yeah. Thanks.”

Maddy stood up. “You want a hug?”

Scott never really hugged girls who weren’t Aimee, but it seemed appropriate then. “Sure.”

Maddy leaned in and gave him a friendly squeeze. When she pulled back, she said, “You know, it was my birthday party. You were supposed to hit on me,” and she laughed again.

Scott laughed too. “Sorry.”

“Tell Aimee you’re sorry, not me!” She gave him an affectionate knock on the head, and then she was out the door, back into the wilds of the party, and Scott was alone again. Not wanting to return to the noise just yet, he sat down on the couch, the leather creaking. He pulled out his phone, drafted a text:

aims. im so sorry. pls kno that ilu so much. im really sorry.

Hoping this would reopen the lines of communication, Scott hit “Send.” He sat there for another minute, feeling happier, a little relieved. Maddy was right. This was going to be fine. He downed his beer and then headed out into the party. He found Pete, looking dejected by the kitchen island. “Yo.”

Pete looked up, red-faced and swaying. “Heyyyy.” He narrowed his eyes, more than they were already narrowed. “So, Maddy Cohen, huh?”

“Huh?” Scott said, not sure what Pete meant.

“Nothing, nothing. Anyway, dude . . . I think I gotta go home and, like, knock one out on my own, you know? Taissa was not biting tonight.”