The Truth About Keeping Secrets(40)

We started down the precisely shovelled path, and only after the first line of trees did I get a proper eyeful of the house. Until now, I hadn’t realized there was such a thing as too much brick. It was completely overpowering, domineering, all browns and reds, and warm light spilled from the upstairs windows on to the front lawn. The place looked like it belonged on a postcard, or like it could be the setting of a murder mystery where ten people are invited to dinner but only one gets to leave.

‘Whoa,’ I said.

‘It’s pretty crazy, right?’

‘Yeah. Beautiful.’

‘You think? I think it’s super-gaudy.’

My cheeks went hot. ‘Yeah, same.’

She smirked at me, then nudged me with her shoulder. ‘You fucking nerd. I mean, if anything, I can appreciate the … spectacle of it. But, nah. Not for me.’

‘What does Heath’s dad do?’ I asked, careful not to say ‘parents’.

‘He’s the city attorney.’ I looked at her, confused. ‘Yeah, I didn’t know Pleasant Hills had a city attorney either. Apparently we do. And apparently, he’s well paid. You know the Alderman Auditorium at the middle school? That’s not a coincidence. He funded it. Gave them hundreds of thousands for it, I guess.’

‘Man. Why?’

June waved her arms in a theatrical swoop. ‘A love of the arts? No, I don’t know. I don’t know much about the interior worlds of the supremely wealthy.’

‘What’s he like? Is he, I don’t know, nice?’

‘Heath’s dad? I couldn’t tell you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’ve only met him, like, three times.’

‘You’ve only seen your boyfriend’s dad three times in three years?’

She shrugged. ‘He’s always away. Doing … things. Not sure what. But, eh. Between you and me – I don’t think he likes me very much.’

She laughed, but I felt awkward so I didn’t say anything else.

Low, distorted music drifted from the house as we drew closer, then tripled in sound as we stepped through the front door.

The entryway was impressive; the ceiling soared above a black-and-white tile floor and a dual set of curved staircases which swirled up to meet a balcony on the floor above. People were dotted around here, but the real commotion seemed to be coming from further inside the house.

‘June?’ someone called from the side room. Heath.

‘Hey, babe,’ she said, unironically.

‘Thanks for leaving me to set up by myself.’

June stiffened. ‘I-I was –’

He appeared round the corner, grinning wide and cradling a stack of plastic cups. ‘I’m just kidding. It’s fine.’ They kissed. I felt awkward about it – and slightly taken aback that June had stuttered. ‘Hey! I didn’t know you were bringing the freshman.’

I made a big show of widening my eyes, pressing a finger to my chest and looking behind me – who, me? They laughed and I swelled.

June shifted. ‘Um, what are you doing? Do you need any help with anything?’

‘Nah, everything’s already finished, so. Why don’t you get Sydney a drink?’

Not that I had thought Heath and June were goody-two-shoes or anything, but the openness and the recklessness of it all wasn’t something I had anticipated. The cops wouldn’t come, would they? Oh God. This was the peer pressure everyone had told me about. This was the moment those alcohol-celibacy contracts I signed in elementary school had foretold.

Fuck it, I decided.

‘Yeah. That’d be good.’

We moved through the gargantuan kitchen, all dark wood and stainless steel, to a set of stairs going down into the basement: the epicentre of the roar.

We passed Bea.

She’d ditched the Dunkin uniform, wore this tight black dress with long sleeves, and I swore when we walked past she glared at me, like some creepy painting that follows you with its eyes as you walk. I struggled to hide my discontent as we passed, so I resolved to just not look at her all. Could it have actually been her? Looking at her now I wasn’t convinced. But the person who sent the message knew I’d be at the party. It would make sense.

She would not ruin this.

I followed June down the basement stairs. The place was immaculate, but not really in a nice way; deep red walls and plush grey carpet, with the sort of ostentatious, disconnected, glossy-magazine finish that suggested nobody who actually cared about the place had been involved in its design. An old Pac-Man arcade machine sat in the far corner beside a pool table, which I assumed was some attempt to make the place seem like human beings with interests besides gaining affluence lived here. It didn’t really work, but with the amount of life that was crammed into the place, it didn’t really have to.

June turned to me, now needing to raise her voice to be heard over the music. ‘I didn’t know you drank!’

I thought about lying to make myself seem cooler. ‘I don’t. Not really.’

‘What? This is your first time?’

I nodded, deciding now was not the time to explain that Dad had once let me have a sip of beer at our Fourth of July block party, which I’d promptly spat out.

‘Oh God! Look at you, player. I honestly wouldn’t have known. You were so cool about it. “Yeah, that’d be good,” ’ she said, affecting my voice. ‘We’re practically stealing your innocence.’ My belly swirled at the thought of June thinking of me as a little kid. Not in a good way. Also I knew she used ‘we’ as a collective term to mean her and Heath, which didn’t help. ‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to. A lot of people don’t.’ The way her voice went up at the end of the sentence let me know she was lying.