“Ah that makes more sense. You grow up around here?” he asks me.
“Yeah, on the Eastern shore.”
“Oh, sweet. My family has a vacation house there. I love going out there. Sailing in the bay and everything. You go sailing a lot?”
“Um, not really,” I reply. Nate kicks off the wall and begins to swim back and forth behind Jackson. I guess he's decided not to take it easy on his injured shoulder.
“We should go some time. Maybe not with him,” he replies, nodding behind him. “Too competitive.”
“He is, isn't he?” It feels nice to be able to talk about Nate with someone who knows him. And who will gossip. “Was he always like that?”
“Oh man, always. We're like, ten years old, playing lacrosse on our school team, and coach was constantly having to pull him back during practice 'cause he was always going full out, full contact.”
He and I laugh together. I notice Nate pause in his stroke, but I can't imagine he can hear us.
“Do you still play lacrosse?”
“Naw, I don't really have the discipline to keep up with it. I was good in high school, but you have to be great to cut it in college. What sport do you play?”
“Oh, none.”
“Really? You look like you're so in shape.”
“Oh, thanks,” I reply, managing to only blush a bit. From anyone else it would have seemed like a ham-fisted compliment, but Jackson has such a natural, easygoing way about him.
“You going to this party in Georgetown tonight?” he asks, dunking his head briefly underneath the water, then shaking off his hair like a dog.
“What party?”
“Oh, I figured Nate told you.”
“Told her what?” Nate asks, appearing next to him.
“'Bout Chris's party,” Jackson replies nonchalantly. Nate's jaw muscles twitch.
“Hadn't mentioned it,” he replies shortly.
“Well, you should come,” Jackson says, turning back to me.
“She's not going to know anyone, and I think it's just gonna be a small thing,” Nate says.
“Dude, Chris said to invite anyone. They've got the whole townhouse. It's gonna be great.”
“I just—” Nate begins, as I bite my lip. Here I thought we were maybe getting along better, despite the awkwardness, and now he's going out of his way to exclude me.
“If you're worried about being a third wheel, just invite Dana or someone,” Jackson says, though even when he's arguing, he doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. “So, what do you think?” he asks me.
“Sounds great, actually,” I say, glancing at Nate, feeling a bit gratified as he glares at me. It feels good to spite him a little, since he so clearly doesn't want me to go.
“Awesome. Tonight then. We can go together—I'll pick you guys up around ten,” Jackson says, before jumping on top of Nate and trying to wrestle him under the water.
I close my eyes as they disappear. For the first time in a while, I wish I had something cute to wear.
CHAPTER TEN
In the end, I have to go with the same black top I wore to that crew party. It's really my only top suitable for a party, I think. Besides, Nate's the only one who's seen me in it, and I doubt he remembers.
My mom excitedly waves goodbye as Nate and I walk out to Jackson's green SUV. She is so thrilled that I might have a social life that it's embarrassing. Jackson opens up the front passenger door for me and Nate slides in back.
“We picking up Dana?” Jackson asks as we pull away.
“It's Natasha tonight. And she's meeting us there,” Nate answers from the back seat. I guess I'm relieved, because I don't think I could look Dana in the eye after seeing her and Nate having sex by the pool.
“Oh, fuck, Natasha, of course,” Jackson says, laughing and hitting the steering wheel. I frown a little. I guess it's par for the course for my stepbrother.
Jackson picks up most of the slack in the conversation, and the radio does the rest. I'm too nervous and stuck in my head, thinking of what I should say, while Nate mumbles one word responses from the back.
I'm relieved when we find a parking space on the street near the party. As we walk toward the riotous townhouse, I'm surprised the neighbors haven't already called the cops. People are spilling out the front door and I can hear the music halfway down the block. There's a pretty olive-skinned girl standing on the curb who turns her head as Nate calls out, “Natasha!”
She smiles coyly as we walk up. Nate dips her in a jokingly romantic manner and plants a kiss on her lips as she breaks out into giggles.
“Come on,” Jackson says, draping an arm around my shoulders protectively and escorting me inside. He high-fives a few guys as we walk in, and he guides me to a keg in the middle of the living room, which is strung with little white Christmas lights. There's an impenetrable crowd around it but somehow he manages to snag me a beer, and before I know it I'm taking my first sip of the summer. With his hand on the small of my back, we walk into the next room. The dining room table is being used for a beer pong game, and Jackson and I take a seat on a couch nearby.
“You're gorgeous, you know that?” Jackson whispers in my ear. I'm startled and almost spit out my beer.
“No…” I look down, blushing, “I mean, that's sweet of you to say.”
“I'd love to see you again after tonight. Maybe we could get dinner next weekend,” he offers.
“Oh, sure,” I reply, feeling flattered. I mean, it does feel a little…rushed, or something, but I've heard so many stories about guys just wanting to hook up, that it's refreshing to be asked out on an old-fashioned date. I take a few more sips of my beer as I look around, feeling more comfortable now that I know Jackson is really into me.
“Hey, I'm going to get another beer,” I tell Jackson, as I drain mine. He jumps up.
“Don't worry about it. I'll grab 'em,” he says, walking confidently into the other room. I watch the ping pong ball as it's thrown back and forth across the table, and Jackson is soon back with the beers. He launches into a story about this crazy party he went to back at school, but out of the corner of my eye I notice a couple walking up the stairs at the rear of the room, their hands all over each other, and feel a stab of envy in my chest.