Page 9 of Summer Skin
AVEN’S CAR PULLEDup around 8:00 for the Halloween party. Chase opened the passenger door, eyeing him up and down.
“Okay,” Chase said, “I give up. What’s your costume supposed to be?” His head tilted to one side as he considered the outfit from another angle.
“It’s what Andi wore to our homecoming dance junior year.” Aven smiled, gleeful and boyish, looking damn proud of himself in a hot pink dress that stretched tight across his chest, not leaving even a little bit to the imagination.
Chase’s brows pulled together. “That’s … really. Um … I don’t get it?”
“This was a dress her mom picked out. Andi ripped it off at the end of the night and said the only time this ugly piece of crap would see the light of day again was if Barbie came to life.” He took his eyes off the road for a second to glance at Chase. “Hey, Ken,” he teased in a way that made Chase’s stomach flip over. “I’ve been stashing the dress in my closet for an entire year just to see the look on her face.”
“Dude, you’re a clown.”
“It will make her laugh.”
“I don’t know, you’re almost too pretty,” Chase said. “Are you trying to compete for who wore it best?”
That made Aven laugh. “Yeah? You like me in a tight dress, Chase?”
His tone was so suggestive that Chase stuttered around a response, but yeah, actually. He did like Aven in a tight dress. Or in a tight anything, really. Chase wasn’t picky, he just liked looking at Aven any chance he got.
Which for the past few weeks, had been a whole hell of a lot. Ever since that morning when Chase broke down and cried like a baby in the other boy’s arms. It was like his tears had been a magic spell that made his wish for a friend come true.
A few more promises of what they might create together and a golden smile or two from Aven charmed Chase into dropping out of band too. Now, they spent their afternoons only with each other, locked away, composing songs in Aven’s room. Hours upon hours that seeped into dinnertime, with Chase only taking off so he wouldn”t leave Brooklyn to eat on her own.
“You don’t do costumes?” Aven asked, nodding towards Chase’s everyday attire.
He used to. Once upon a time Chase had looked forward to Halloween as the very best day of the year. His mom called it their family holiday and went all out, as though it was Christmas and New Year’s and the Fourth of July combined.
His family dressed as goblins, and dragons, and witches—and then there was the year his mom thought it would be hilarious to make his eight-year-old self Edvard Munch’s The Scream. Chase delighted in the one day a year it was considered socially acceptable to walk around in a disguise.
But with his mom’s absence, Chase’s holiday light was dimmed, and when Aven invited him to an open mic Halloween bash, he’d given an easy yes without any thought of putting together something to wear. Even Brook resisted this year, wandering around their house like some sort of frail, Victorian child, haunted by the absence of their mom’s seasonal spirit. He’d asked if she’d like to come out with him tonight, but she’d grimaced, as though the idea were totally absurd, before shutting the bedroom door in his face.
So as it had been so often lately, it was just him and Aven. Alone.
The party was at a house down a long, private drive lined with cedars, their branches lit up by Aven’s headlights, swaying lazily with the slight breeze in the air. After parking in a cluster of cars, they made their way towards the party, the bumping sound of a stereo pointing the way.
Chase followed Aven through a haunted archway, a group of bats and creepy crawlies warning them to BEWARE! as they entered the backyard. It was a crowd of nameless faces, no one familiar in sight, and he scooted a little closer to Aven’s side.
Someone had gone all out on the decorations. Glowing purple and orange lanterns rivaled the moonlight, showcasing a coven of plastic witches gathered around a roaring fire, little black cats perched at their sides. Everywhere Chase turned, something intrigued him, as befitted the spirit of the holiday.
His mom would love this backyard, so full of Halloween tricks and treats. Pulling his gaze away from a disturbingly realistic mummy tied to a porch railing, Chase found Aven grabbing a beer from an ice bucket marked Poison in bold, black ink.
“You want?” Aven asked, gesturing towards the cans.
Only one, Chase thought. More than that might loosen him up more than he’d like, and he wanted to stay sharp tonight. He hadn’t even bothered asking Aven whose party they were at. Because, truthfully, Chase would have accepted even if Aven asked to play with a mystical puzzle box that summoned demonic beings.
Such were the wise choices he made for his unrequited crush.
“You didn’t!”
They heard Andi’s shriek before she came into view. She weaved her way through the crowd to give Aven a playful slap on his shoulder. “What the hell is this?” she asked him with a laugh, gesturing to her dress. “You are such a chucklehead, you know that?”
“Come on, Barbie, at a Halloween party? It’s perfect.”
She looked him up and down. “You wear it a million times better than I ever did, but what’s with the track pants underneath? You should have showed us your legs!”
Chase couldn’t disagree with that.
“It’s freakin’ cold out!”
“Sure, tell that to the million girls who are baring it for the sake of a killer costume tonight, ya weenie.”
Chase happily resigned himself to standing back to watch the Aven and Andi show.
“And meanwhile you’ve covered yourself up head to toe.”
Andi made a show of spinning around. She was dressed as a pirate, a swaggering swashbuckler in a poet-style shirt and buccaneer boots, with a toy sword tucked at her waist.
“Gotta get that booty.”
“Yo, ho, ho,” Aven said with a suggestive smirk.
“God.” She plucked at the neckline of her dress across his neck. “I can’t believe you kept this.”
“That was a fun night.” He pulled Andi’s hand away, giving her a fond smile. Chase wondered for approximately the thousandth time if friendship was really all there ever was between the two of them.
“Right? The scavenger hunt—”
“And camping out in the treehouse.”
“And that fucked-up cake!” they crowed in unison.
With a dejected feeling, Chase realized he had no childhood friends of his own to carry memories with. There was his mom. And his sister. And a whole hell of a lot of keeping to himself before they moved on to the next town.
“Y’all!” A loud call came booming from the porch over the noise of the party. “Andrea Michele Greene!”
“Oh, god,” Andi groaned. “You can’t take them anywhere, I swear it.”
Piper and Elena darted over dressed as the twins from The Shining, which was a level of macabre Chase hadn’t recognized existed in the two of them until now.
“Shh, come on!” Andi said. “Keep your voices down. We’re incognito.”
“Why?” Elena whipped her head around. “Please tell me Hank’s not here tonight.”
“That dickhead is blackballed from literally everything, but we’re the only high school students at this party. Check it out, look around. We only got invited because Heidi wants to fuck Aven.”
“Everyone wants to fuck Aven,” Piper said, with a note of certainty that told Chase she definitely included herself in that list.
“No,” Elena insisted. “Not Trish Barber, remember? Aven tried to get with her at Smith’s party last year and she laughed so hard in his face that she spat her drink all over him!”
“Bringing up memories best left in a dumpster. Cool. Thanks, Elena.” Aven nodded his head towards a makeshift stage set up near the front of the yard. “I thought we were invited because Heidi wants me to sing at open mic?”
“Same diff,” Andi told him, and lowered her voice. “But it’s a college-aged party, that’s my point. So everyone just be super chill and—”
“SINCLAIR!” someone shouted, and then a force of female energy hurled herself into Aven’s arms, holding him tight for a moment before pulling away with a wide grin. “You’re here!”
“Heidi.” Aven gave her a slightly crooked smile. “Long time no see. How’s college treating you?”
She crinkled her nose at him. “Dude, I didn’t last a semester. It’s whatever. I’ll figure something out. But I’m back home … for now.” She locked eyes with Aven, giving him a flirty smile as he grinned back. “I’m glad you came, Sinclair. I’ve missed watching you play.”
“Thanks.” Aven pulled Chase forward with a tug on his sleeve. “This is Chase. He’s with me. Plays guitar, too, and he’s fucking fantastic. Just wait.”
Heidi grinned over at him, teeth dazzling, and the corners of Chase’s mouth lifted in response. “Play something for us later, yeah?” she asked, nodding her head.
He found himself nodding back, Heidi’s vibe a bit magnetic, and she turned away to greet the girls, then quickly excused herself from conversation. “Gotta set up.” Her eyes went back to Aven, her voice ticking down a notch. “I’ll see you later on?”
“Sure, see you,” he said, and Chase felt his stomach drop. As far as he knew, Aven hadn’t hooked up with anyone the entire time they’d been hanging out. But there was something swirling in the air, something he could sense in Aven’s energy tonight, that made him think that was all about to change.
Heidi seemed really cool, and damn gorgeous, and she obviously wanted Aven. Chase tried to be reasonable. After all, it didn’t really matter, did it? Not when there was no chance for him at all. Still, a stone of regret for what he couldn’t have sank to the pit of his stomach.
“Okay, so anyway,” Elena said, poking at her phone, “I found a tutorial on making marbled clay ring dishes. I’m sending you a link right now.”
Andi and Piper’s phones chimed in unison.
Andi glanced at her screen. “Okay. Wanna start next weekend?”
“Start what?” Aven asked.
“Andi’s not doing cheer this year,” Piper explained, “so we found a new project to bind us together.”
“And that’s … glazed pottery?”
“Yes!” the three girls exclaimed in one united voice of oven-bake clay maker solidarity.
“We’re setting up an Etsy store.”
“It’s called Clay Cheer,” Andi said in a tone that dared Aven to say One. Single. Word.
The corners of Aven’s mouth twitched as he met her pointed stare. “Alright.”
Piper stood on her toes, eyes darting around the crowd.
“Who are you looking for?” Elena craned her neck, scanning the area, too, as though she might recognize whoever Piper was seeking.
“I heard people saying Trent’s here tonight,” Piper said hopefully.
Aven pulled a confused face. “Who’s that?”
“You know, Trent Williams, from Paranormal Romance.”
“You mean that shitty band they’re always playing on the radio?”
“They’re not shitty,” Piper protested. “They have that one song …”
“Okay Everyone?” Aven said in a slightly mocking tone.
“It’s called ‘Gray Everyone,’ and it was number one on Billboard,” Elena informed him, sniffing, as though Aven had greatly insulted her Overlook Hotel murder twin.
“Yeah, well, it’s shitty.” His eyes cut to Chase, looking for back-up. “Right, Matthews?”
Chase tried to think of a single redeeming quality to the over-played rock song, but there wasn’t much to go on. “It’s not awful, I’d say, but their music does seem pretty soulless.”
“See? Paranormal Romance sucks,” Aven proclaimed, and Andi’s eyes went big and round.
“Dude,” she hissed. “Shut up. If he’s here …”
“Why would Trent Williams be at a house party?” Chase wondered aloud.
“Grew up on the island.” Andi started to scan the group of people gathered around them. “He visits friends and family from time to time. Heidi’s his cousin.”
Elena gasped out an excited breath. “Oh my god, and remember that one time Sasha caught him blowing some random guy on the ferry?”
“I wish I’d been there for that.” Piper shook her head forlornly. “I’m going to find him, say hello. See if he’s interested in exchanging any oral tonight.”
“He’s gay, Piper,” Andi reminded her.
“Who says? He may swing more than one direction, and it doesn’t hurt to find out.”
She grinned, this loose and contagious smile that caught on the faces of Andi and Elena, too. Soon the three of them had charged off on their self-declared mission to locate a maybe-bisexual rock star, and Chase was left standing alone with Aven once again.
“Seriously though,” he said to Chase once the girls had melted into the crowd, “Paranormal Romance writes songs with names like ‘Brave New Year’ and ’Secondhand Sadness.’ Their music sounds like pages ripped from an angry pre-teen’s diary. Trent Williams is a crappy songwriter. Girls just think he’s hot.”
“And guys.” It came out of Chase’s mouth with no thought.
“Guys what?”
“Some guys think he’s hot too.”
Aven grinned over at him, waggling his eyebrows. “Right. So, do you?”
“He’s not my type,” Chase said, leaving that open to interpretation. They’d spent enough time hip-to-hip by now that Chase didn’t think Aven would have a problem with him liking guys, but still, you could never be too sure until it was out.
“Yeah?” Aven gave him a faintly curious look. “And who around here is your type, Matthews? I haven’t seen you chasing after anyone all year.”
A red stain crept up his neck, and Chase was quickly afraid he was wearing the answer to that question like a bright neon sign. More seconds slipped by, and Aven waited, but Chase couldn’t manage to stutter out any sort of reasonable lie.
“It’s cool,” Aven said, no doubt reading the awkwardness coming off Chase in massive waves. “You don’t have to tell me.”
Which was probably a damn good thing.
Because Chase’s type?
Was definitely Aven Sinclair.