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River:I have plans.
Deanna:One minute. That’s all. You are coming to the party?
Not in so many words.
River:My apologies.
Deanna:Should I pass them on to Lexi?
River:Sure. Thanks.
Maybe she’s up to something. Maybe she’s happy for me. Maybe she has no idea. It doesn’t matter. I have a goal. Nothing is getting in my way. And it doesn’t matter.
I look out my bedroom window. I survey the party. Just like I used to as a kid. The people milling around the backyard—they look so strange, wearing suits three feet from the swimming pool—the bar, the balloons, the light of the apartments.
There’s sound coming from the apartments. A familiar sound.
Sade.
Lexi’s seduction playlist. It’s just loud enough to compete with the waltz music playing at the party.
She has a boyfriend.
Grandma’s words echo in my head.
I refuse to believe that. Lexi is a lot of things, but she’s not a cheater. If she’s interested in me, she’s ending things with him. I’ll ask her, point blank. If she hasn’t ended things, that’s it. I’m a strong enough person to resist her charms.
I go downstairs, then outside, and sneak out of the house. I go the other way, around our side yard—away from the party, so Deanna doesn’t see me—to the perfect cul-de-sac. Identical to a hundred other perfect cul-de-sacs in the city. Well, except for the sheer size of the Huntington place.
A valet stands at the front of the Huntington place and older people linger by the entrance, smoking (cigars, of course) and sipping bourbon from short glasses.
The rest of the street hums with the sort of Friday night activity I expect in Huntington Hills. Families watching movies on the couch or playing games in the backyard. Moms sipping wine as they chat about their kids. Dads talking football. People who choose to live here do it because they believe in family values. They don’t go out of their way to defy gender norms.
I walk toward the neighborhood park down the street. It’s a big space, with a soccer field, a handful of eucalyptus trees, a small plastic playground (it was wood when I was a kid), and a parking lot.
There’s Lexi’s car, the flashy red thing.
And there’s a woman standing there, in heels and a short dress.
This is it.
Destiny.
I step into the light, and I see her in all her glory.
Lace-up boots, short dark hair—
Son of a…
That’s not Lexi.
That’s Deanna.
Chapter Seven
Deanna
River stares at me with disbelief in his dark eyes.
