The Husband Hour(31)

Typically, this epic party night was the exclusive domain of seniors and their dates. But every year, juniors with enough social clout and access to beach houses were included in the after-prom weekend. In the spring of Lauren’s sophomore year, Stephanie was one of those chosen few.

“And Mom’s okay with this?” Lauren had asked, perched on the edge of Stephanie’s bed, watching her paint her toenails deep burgundy.

“Yeah. Totally.”

“I just can’t believe Gran and Pops trust you with the house for a weekend.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Stephanie. You won’t even know half the kids that show up. It’s going to be like American Pie.”

“It’s not going to be like American Pie,” Stephanie said. “It’s going to be way more epic. And you have to come.”

Saturday night of the prom, just after midnight, the Green Gable filled up with drunken revelers. Lauren was pretty sure there were kids in the living room who didn’t even go to their school. Two girls in the pool were topless. There was a keg in the dining room and in the living room, and the kitchen counter was littered with bottles of Stoli, Ketel One, orange juice, and tequila. The soccer team did J?ger shots. Stephanie disappeared with her boyfriend du jour.

Something broke in the living room. Lauren heard it over the music only because it happened right behind her. Someone yelled, “Party foul!”

One of her grandmother’s glass zebras from the mantel.

“Oh my God, be careful!” Lauren said, shooing people away, bending down to see if the piece could be salvaged. It was shattered.

She realized she should lock her grandparents’ bedroom. There were more breakable things in there, and who knew how many people were milling around on the second floor. Why hadn’t she thought of this sooner? She rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The problem was that the only way to lock the door was from the inside, so she locked herself in and then walked outside to the deck so she could take the stairs back down.

Someone was on the deck. How could anyone be rude enough to go through the bedroom? Then she realized it was more likely the person had simply walked up the external stairs from the pool. That hardly made it better.

“Hey—this is off-limits,” she said in the darkness to someone’s back. The guy ignored her, looking up at the sky. “Do you hear me?”

Fine, so she was going to be that girl. Whatever. No one would remember in the morning except her.

He turned around. “Oh. Sorry.”

She gasped. Rory.

“I didn’t know it was you,” she said.

“Lauren?” He moved closer.

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? It’s my grandparents’ house.”

The sky was clear, bright with stars and a three-quarter moon. He was beautiful in the shadows but, unlike most people, no more so than he was in broad daylight. She felt the night start to shift.

“I mean here now—on prom weekend,” he said.

“Oh. That’s a good question. I don’t know, actually. Did you go? To prom, I mean?”

He nodded. “I went with my friend Heidi.”

“Heidi McClusky?” She was captain of the girls’ lacrosse team. She’d be playing for Duke next year.

“Yeah. She was going to skip it but I convinced her she should go, that we could have a good time.”

“Did you?”

“You know, it wasn’t bad. But we should have quit while we were ahead. Your house is getting trashed, you know.”

“Oh God. Yeah, I do know. I came up here to lock the bedroom door.”

“And barricade yourself in?”

She laughed. “It’s tempting.”

He looked up again. “It’s pretty nice up here, though. You can see every constellation. Want to take a walk on the beach?”

She looked out at the ocean. “Now? We can’t. The beach is closed until six a.m.”

He leaned over the ledge, following her gaze. “Some rules are worth breaking. What do you say?”

Across the street from her house, stairs led to the beach. But Rory didn’t bother with the stairs; he jumped over the low wooden balustrade dividing the end of the drive and the beach. He held out his hand and helped her down. It was only three feet high on the street side, but the sand had receded, so she misjudged her landing on the sand and he had to steady her.

The physical contact was more shocking than her near fall. But he released his hold as soon as her footing was solid. She’d barely had time to process the fact that he’d put his arm around her waist, never mind enjoy it.

It was darker than she’d anticipated. She felt like she was on completely foreign terrain, not the beach she’d walked on her entire life. Maybe it was because she knew they weren’t allowed to be out there. It felt risky, dangerous.

They took off their shoes, and she followed Rory close to the water. The sand was wet and cold. In the dark, the roar of the waves sounded so much louder than it did during the day. She sensed the power of the ocean and, under the bright stars, felt her own insignificance.

“Look that way—east.” Rory pointed out three particularly bright stars. “That’s Vega, Deneb, and Altair. The Summer Triangle. Do you see?”