8
The driveway to the Kings’ house was packed with black cars and people in their New Year’s best. My feet were already killing me, and every time I looked down at Jo’s sneaker-covered feet, I wished I didn’t care so much about what people thought of my appearance. If I was like Jo, I would have worn flats and jeans. We passed an SUV and I looked at myself, using the window as a mirror. My sparkly dress was tight and my hair was already falling out of its curls.
I looked at myself again, trying to be more like Jo. I looked hot, I knew that I did; I just had to remind myself a few more times.
“God, it’s so crowded,” Jo said, waiting for me to catch up to her.
The Kings’ estate was a massive, two-story, square, tan house with thick white pillars on the porch extending up to the second floor. The long shutters on the bottom-floor windows were painted black, and since I had last been here a week prior, someone had strung up strands of white twinkling lights on the black fence upstairs and down the front pillars. The house was always beautiful; it had been my dream home since before I even stepped inside, but that night it seemed even more magical. Flowers were everywhere. Purple bellflowers draped over iron trellises, and blue flowers that I didn’t know the name of overflowed from hanging baskets.
The real estate in southern Louisiana was my favorite of what I had ever seen. I loved the old, square houses with shutters and pillars, and the eeriness of it all just made it even more appealing to me.
When we finally stepped onto the porch, my heart was beating so fast and my toes were aching in my heels. I spotted Mr. Blackly, the doorman for the estate, and he smiled, waving for me to cut the line at the door. I couldn’t believe a line had formed at the door. It didn’t surprise me too much, though, since the Kings’ home was the biggest anywhere near the post. It was a large double-gallery house. I loved that style of home, especially when the houses were in the Quarter.
One day, I had asked Mrs. King why she didn’t move closer to the French Quarter, and she had looked at me with a smirk in her eyes and said, “Because, darling Meg, I love my diamonds.” She looked down at her wrist, and it sparkled under the lights in her bathroom. I nodded and swept blush over her dark cheeks.
I tugged Jo by the arm of her denim jacket and we pushed through the crowd of people waiting to get inside. I didn’t recognize a single face in the sea of them.
Mr. Blackly told me to have fun and drink some champagne for him. I was even more surprised when we got into the living room. All of the furniture was placed the same as always, but there were little tables full of appetizers, and tucked in the corner was a full bar. The man behind it was shaking a metal cup in one hand and pouring liquor into a glass with his other, and I felt like I was at a Gatsby party.
“This is freaking insane,” Jo said into my ear.
I agreed with her as we made our way into the parlor to look for someone I knew, anyone but Shia.
The first person I spotted was Bell Gardiner, standing over by the piano. She was wearing a long emerald-green dress, and I couldn’t help but look down at her left hand. Her ring sparkled from ten feet away, and I could see that the color matched her dress. It was beautiful. My petty dislike for her grew instantly. She smiled at the man in front of her, and I wondered if he was her fiancé. Since he had a fairly large bald spot on the back of his head, I hoped he was. I was petty, but at least I could admit it.
“Has it been an hour yet?” Jo pulled her cell phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and checked the screen. “How has it only been five minutes?” she asked, and shoved the phone back into her jeans.
Jo grabbed a little cucumber sandwich, and we continued to explore. A few minutes later, I saw Reeder and the Laurie boy standing by the bar. When I told Jo I wanted to talk to them, she shook her head and told me to go for it but she was staying put.
I didn’t want to leave my younger sister alone in such a crowded place, but I was bored out of my damn mind.
“Meg.” Reeder smiled when I approached him. He wrapped his arm around me and I leaned into his expansive chest. He was monstrously big.
I had known him since I moved to Fort Cyprus. It didn’t take long for the student body to hate me and he was always so nice to me. He used to drive me to school on the mornings that he had patrol, and he was one of the only guys I had ever known that I felt safe around.
One sloppy night my senior year when John had broken up with me, I went to a party and drank my weight in vanilla-flavored vodka. I was a stumbling mess and Reeder showed up with his friends. It was the first time I had seen him out of his uniform, and I hung all over him like a bee to pollen, and when he drove me home and walked me to my back door, I leaned up and tried to kiss him.
I had never been turned down by a boy, or man, before that night, and I haven’t been since Reeder gently declined my advances. He said I had had too much to drink. He was right.
“There are so many people here,” I said to the two of them. I wondered how Reeder, a military police officer, had become such fast friends with the greasy, leather jacket–wearing boy from Europe. I didn’t trust a boy with hair like that.
“For sure. Happy New Year!” Reeder raised a glass of clear liquid, and I grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing server’s tray.
Laurie looked at me and took a swig from a can of Coke. Gross. “Where’s the other girl? Your sister, I assume?”
“You shouldn’t assume.”
The corner of his mouth pulled into a smile. “Well, where is your nonsister?”
I focused on him, looking right into his eyes. They were jet-black; it was unnerving.
“She’s not interested in you,” I told him.
Jo had never had a boyfriend, and no freaking way was this guy going to attempt to be anything close to it. Boys like him didn’t want to date; they only wanted one thing, and Jo wasn’t ready to give that to anyone.
“Hmm. You’re a real peach.” He ran his long pale fingers through his blond hair.
I turned away from him, not wanting to feed his ego or irritate him enough to want my sister even more. I knew how boys like him were wired. I searched for Jo by the table I’d left her at, but didn’t see her there, or anywhere. I knew she was capable of handling herself, more so than me even, but I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that had planted itself inside my stomach the moment we walked through the door of the party.
I told Reeder that I would see him later and didn’t so much as look at Laurie before I walked away to find Jo. I pushed past big balloons with the numbers of the new year, grabbed another glass of champagne, and went to find my sister.