Prologue
The party spills over with guests, from the ballroom to the front lawn. It’s nighttime, but the house is lit up, bright as the sun. All around me diamonds glitter. We’ve reached that tipping point where everyone is sloshed enough to smile, but not so much they start to slur. There’s almost too many people, almost too much alcohol. Almost too much wealth in one room.
It reminds me of Icarus, with his wings of feather and wax. If Icarus had a five-hundred-person guest list for his graduation party. It reminds me of flying too close to the sun.
I snag a flute of champagne from one of the servers, who pretends not to see. The bubbles tickle my nose as I take a detour through the kitchen. Rosita stands at the stove, stirring her world-famous jambalaya in a large cast iron pot. The spices pull me close.
I reach for a spoon. “Is it ready yet?”
She slaps my hand away. “You’ll ruin your pretty dress. It’ll be ready when it’s ready.”
We have caterers who make food for all our events, but since this is my graduation party, Rosita agreed to make my favorite dish. She’s going to spoon some onto little puff pastry cups and call it a canape.
I try to pout, but everything is too perfect for that. Only one thing is missing from this picture. I give her a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Rosita. Have you seen Daddy?”
“Where he always is, most likely.”
That’s what I’m afraid of. Then I’m through the swinging door that leads into the private side of the house. I pass Gerty, our event planner, who’s muttering about guests who aren’t on the invite list.
I head up the familiar oak staircase, breathing in the scent of our house. There’s something so comforting about it. I’m going to miss everything when I leave for college.
At the top of the stairs, I hear men’s voices.
That isn’t unusual. I’m around the corner from Daddy’s office. There are always men coming to meet with him. Half the people he works with are downstairs right now. But he promised no work tonight, and I’m going to hold him to it, even if I have to drag him downstairs myself.
“How dare you accuse me of…”
The venom in the words stops me on the landing. That doesn’t sound like a regular business meeting. Things might get tense around a contract, but there’s plenty of back slapping and football talk before and after.
More heated words hover just below the noise of the party, ominous and indistinguishable. I twist my hands together, about to turn around. I won’t bother him after all.
A man rounds the corner, almost colliding into me.
I gasp, taking a step back. There’s nothing behind me. The stairs! Then two hands grasp my arms, hauling me back onto steady ground. I have only a glimpse of furious golden eyes, almost feline, definitely feral. Then he’s sweeping past me down the stairs. I cling to the carved banister, my knees weak.
It’s another minute before I can detach myself from the wood railing. My breath still feels shuddery from that near miss, from that man’s hands on my bare arms. I find Daddy pacing inside his office. He glances up at me with a strange expression—almost like panic.
“Daddy?”
“There you are, Avery. I’m sorry. I know I said no work—”
“Who was that?”
A cloud crosses over his expression. Only now, in the lamp’s eerie glow, do I notice the lines on his face. Deeper than ever. “Don’t worry about him. This night is all about you.”
Now that I’ve started noticing his appearance, I can’t stop. His hair. All salt now. No more pepper. “You know I don’t need all this. This party. Everything. You don’t have to work so hard.”
The smile that crosses his face is wistful. “What would I do if I wasn’t working?”
I shrug, because it doesn’t matter. My friend Krista’s dad plays golf every single day. Harper’s mom is on her fourth husband. Anything but plant himself behind a desk, eyes soft with strain. “You could date or something.”
He laughs, looking more like himself. “You’re the only girl in my life, sweetie. Now, come on. Let’s join the party before they trash the place.”
His arm around my shoulders pulls me close, and I curl into his jacket. I breathe in the comforting smell of him—the faint scent of cigar smoke, even though he swears he’s quit. I lay my head on his shoulder as we pass the chessboard where we play together.
“I’ll miss our games.”
He kisses my temple. “Not as much as I’ll miss you.”
“You could download an app on your phone. We could play online.”
“I’m lucky if I can make calls on this damn thing,” he says, laughing. His expression darkens when he looks at the screen of his phone, reading the text across a white popup background. “Sweetheart, I have to call someone.”
Disappointment burns down my throat. Of course he’s a busy man. Most of my friends barely know their dads. I’m lucky he’s always made time for me. No matter how crazy things get at his business, he always makes time for our chess games. Every week.
I kiss his cheek, seeing the age spots on leathery skin for the first time.
Downstairs I find Justin by following the sound of his laugh. It’s a big, booming laugh that I suspect he’s practiced. However it happened, it’s infectious. I’m already grinning when I enter the room.
He holds out his hand to me. “The woman of the hour.”
I fold into his side, tickled by the champagne in my bloodstream and the relief of being downstairs. Whatever happened in that office was tense. Dark. “I was just checking on Daddy.”
“Working,” Justin guesses.
“Unfortunately.”
“Well, I guess you’re stuck with me,” Justin says, winking at the couple he was talking to. I recognize them as a famous neurosurgeon and his wife, parents to a man running for the state senate seat.
I make my introductions to them. Of course this party isn’t only for my high school graduation. Like all the other parties in Tanglewood society, it’s about networking. For my father. For Justin, who has big plans to follow his father’s footsteps into politics.
“Salutatorian,” Justin’s saying. “You should have heard her speech about the way the things we do now are the myths of the future.”
The man smiles, somewhat indulgent. “She’ll be a great asset to you, son.”
I manage to keep a pleasant expression, even though I hope to be more than an asset. I want to be his partner. He knows that, doesn’t he? Justin has that public smile, the one that’s too bright and too white. The one that doesn’t mean anything.
By the time we make our excuses, my cheeks hurt from smiling.
Justin pulls me behind a screen, nuzzling my neck. “Maybe we can sneak up to your room.”
“Oh,” I say, a catch in my breath. “I think Daddy will be down soon…”
“He won’t find out,” he murmurs, his hands sliding over my dress, under it. We’re not visible to the party, but anyone could walk back here. My heart pounds. His hands are soft and grasping—and for some reason my mind flashes to the man at the top of the stairs, his firm grip on my arms.
“Justin, I—”
“Come on. You turned eighteen two weeks ago.”
And okay, I did use that as an excuse before. Because I didn’t feel ready. And it has nothing to do with how old I am or how much I love Justin. Maybe if my mother were still alive, if she could have told me the secrets of being a woman. The internet is a terrifying teacher.
I turn in his arms, pushing him to arms’ length. “I love you.”
He frowns. “Avery.”
“But it wasn’t just being seventeen. It’s everything. I want… I want to wait.”
His eyes narrow, and I’m sure he’s going to say no. He’s going to storm off. What if I ruined everything?
By degrees he seems to relax. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
He sighs. “I’m not happy about it, but I’m willing to wait. You’re worth waiting for.”
My throat feels tight. I know it’s a lot to ask for, but he’s the best boyfriend I can imagine. And Daddy loves him, which is a huge plus. This fall I’ll start school at Smith College, the same private all-girls college where Harper’s going. Everything is perfect.
That’s how it feels in this moment, like flying.
I have no idea that in less than a year I’ll fall from the sky.