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My first warning sign that tonight is going to be different from his usual parties is that, when the Uber pulls up to the curb to let us out, the lights in Dan’s townhouse are low enough that if I didn’t know better, I might assume no one was home. I look at Tati, who just shrugs.
When the housekeeper opens the front door and we step inside the hallway, there’s a slight haze that rolls out around me, smelling of smoke and cloves. We head to the living room where everything is lit only by soft shades of pink and orange light, scarves of diaphanous material thrown over the lamps throughout the home. The music playing is thrumming and exotic.
There aren’t the usual crowds of people vying for space or gathering together in groups. Instead, there are low tablesscattered about the floor on top of woven carpets, ringed by soft, puffy pillows. The guests sit around these tables, which are dominated by huge, intricately designed hookahs, each one more detailed than the last. I recognize a few faces from school and other parties I’ve attended, but this is lower key than I imagined, with everyone taking deep inhales from the hookah mouthpieces and blowing the smoke into the air above them. Everything feels intimate and hedonistic. I look at Tatiana again, who is glancing around the space, goggle-eyed.
At first, I think it was just servers moving amongst the small groups of smokers, but I quickly see there are a number of belly dancers, too, their bodies moving in graceful waves. They’re stunning, leaning forward and even sometimes bending backward in front of the partygoers, close enough to be tantalizing but never close enough to touch. It’s entrancing.
We walk across the floor, smoke billowing around us. Tatiana appears to be looking for someone, but I can also tell that she doesn’t want to leave me behind. She’s become so brave, my shy friend, and I don’t want to hold her back.
Plus, there is someone I’m interested in finding myself, and something tells me that it will be better for me to confront him without Tatiana there to witness it all.
“You can go, if you’re meeting people,” I tell her, taking her hand and giving it a quick squeeze. “I know you didn’t plan on bringing me.”
“Oh,” she says, flustered but happy with my statement. “I thought I might see Mark here, so…”
“Go ahead.” I give her a little push in the right direction. She deserves to hang out with someone who makes her happy. “If we don’t catch back up with each other, don’t worry about me, okay? But if you need anything, just call.”
Tati only hesitates for a moment more before nodding and disappearing into the darkness of the party. Standing alone, Itake a few deep breaths to find my courage and begin to search for the man that has been eluding me for too long.
Dan, of course, is at the biggest table, surrounded by beautiful women, and too few men for my taste. As one of the only guys, and the party host, he’s getting a plethora of adoring attention, and it pisses me off. He has time for all these people, but not for me? Every time I think that we are at least close friends, he does something that makes me think that maybe he doesn’t think of me the same way. Still, I’m here, and I’m not going to let this chance go.
He doesn’t notice me at first, and I take the time to watch him, taking long draws from the hookah and blowing streams of shisha smoke into the air above him. He laughs with the other girls, even letting them lean on him somewhat, but I also notice how he subtly shrugs them off, disguising it as movements to reach for something or turn to speak to someone else. I hate to see them touch him, but I do get a distinct feeling of satisfaction watching him brush them off. It gives me a glimmer of hope that he’s doing it all for me. Maybe the fuckboy lifestyle doesn’t appeal to him quite so much anymore.
When he places the mouthpiece between his lips again, I make my move, obscured by the dimness of the room. Dan doesn’t even see me until I’m next to him, pulling the mouthpiece away with a gentle tug and placing it in my own mouth.
He watches me, eyes going wide with surprise, and then narrowing with annoyance as I draw in a deep breath. The smoke tastes heavy and complicated, like molasses and patchouli––slightly burnt but deliciously bitter. Still, I fight the urge to cough, not wanting to make a fool out of myself in front of everyone, and blow the mouthful of smoke at Dan with my eyes watering, watching it cascade around his face like a gust of wind.
While he’s still speechless, I say, “Damn…first you don’t want me to come to Capri, and now you’re not even inviting me to your parties. You’re really cutting me out of your life, huh?”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he finally manages to ask, low and dangerous. “This party isn’t for you. Hence why you weren’t invited.”
I ignore him, drawing in another mouthful of shisha before Dan stands and makes a lunge for the mouthpiece, and takes it from me. I try to grab it back, but if his expression is anything to go by, he isn’t messing around.
He grabs me by the upper arm, pulling me close so only I can hear him. “Knock it off. Some of these people know your brother, and they might tell him you’re here smoking. Is that what you want?”
“Like who?” I say mockingly, my eyes briefly checking the guests at his table before they fall on him again. “You’re his best friend, right? Areyougoing to tell him? Plus, it’s just shisha, no?”
He flicks his eyes to the hookah table, and I follow his glance where it lands on a large, suspiciously full bag. Dan tries to reach for it casually, but I snake my arms past him and pluck it off the surface quicker than he can. Holding it up to my face, I can smell it through the plastic, pungent and ripe. Marijuana.
“Oh, I get it now! You’re going to smoke weed too, right? Is that why you didn’t invite me?”
His expression darkens. “Elise, I’m not joking. Give it to me right now.”
Everyone is watching us, but what do I care? My feelings are hurt that he wouldn’t invite me and that he’s getting up to such debauchery while I sit at home wishing we were spending time together. I hate that he can just go on and live his life without ever thinking of me while I borderline obsess over him.
In one movement, I pivot and flee, walking quickly through the maze of tables and smoke hanging in the air, dodging servers and belly dancers, and heading for where I know the stairs are. Thankfully I’m familiar with Dan’s house because otherwise I’d be lost.
I can hear him behind me, and it gives me a thrill, knowing that he’s giving chase. I fly up the stairs, grabbing the handle of the first door I see and hiding inside, the bag of weed still clutched in my hand.
It doesn’t take him long to find me, pressed against the wall in the dark room. I try to hide when I see the door begin to open, but it’s so dark I can’t make out anything around me, and before I know it he’s flipped the lights on.
It’s a bedroom; one that has clearly been lived in, meaning that it must be Dan’s. This gives me another little shiver of delight, knowing I'm in his most private space. Taking advantage of his surprise at finding me here I kick my heels off and hop up onto the bed, using the added height to my advantage in keeping it away from him.
I wish I had more time to look around and really absorb what his bedroom is like. Dan has been free and open with women in the past but never letting them into his real personal life. I have to keep my eyes locked on him, so the only thing I get is the impression of forest greens and black, the mattress under my feet soft and luxurious.
“Get down, Elise,” he tells me, looking annoyed and exasperated. “Quit being immature.”
“Oh, I’m the one being immature? Not the guy avoiding me just because he can’t handle the fact we sort of hooked up? At least I can face you!”
