“That’s sweet,” Jacinta said. “When did you start dating?”
“You mean she hasn’t told you the whole story?”
“No, I’m afraid she hasn’t.”
“I thought boys were all girls talked about. Besides, you know, hair and makeup.”
“You’re such a feminist, bro,” Jeff said, squeezing my shoulder with his hand.
“Oh, we talk about all sorts of things at my house,” Jacinta said, twisting her fingers together. “But I guess mostly fashion and style.”
“I heard there was a wild party at your house the other week,” Teddy said. He turned to his companions. “You guys remember the fireworks, right?”
“Oh, shit,” Reilly said, suddenly becoming animated. “The party with the Ferris wheel. I heard about that. That was your place?”
Jacinta smiled and nodded with pride.
“Sounded badass,” Brock grunted.
“You better invite us to your next party, Jacinta Trimalchio,” Teddy said.
“How about tonight?” Jacinta asked.
I looked at Jeff. Jeff looked at me. We hadn’t heard anything about a party at Jacinta’s, and you’d think that since we were the only ones who were actually invited last time, she would’ve given us a heads-up.
“You’re having a party tonight?” Teddy asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I am now,” Jacinta said simply. “You can come over, have some drinks, see where Delilah’s been spending her days.” The tilt of her chin and the way she pursed her lips almost made it seem like a challenge.
Teddy looked at Brock and Reilly. Brock shrugged. Reilly scratched the back of his head.
“Sure,” Teddy said. “What time?”
“Eight o’clock,” Jacinta said. “Delilah can show you how to get there.”
“I’m sure she knows the way by heart,” Teddy said.
“She does,” Jacinta said.
“Cool,” Teddy said. “Great. We’ll see you then.” He and his boys said their goodbyes and walked off down the beach.
“It’s one o’clock,” I said. “Can you really put together a party by eight?”
“I can if Baxley’s can cater it,” Jacinta said, whipping out her cell phone. She walked away from us for a few minutes, talking on the phone and gesticulating enthusiastically.
“I like her,” Jeff said to me in a low voice. “She’s great. But she’s super-weird, right? Like, it’s not just me.”
“She’s—different,” I said carefully. I knew what he meant, but I was suddenly feeling very protective over her.
Jacinta came back, triumphantly waving her cell phone in the air. “They said yes!” she said. “Which means I have to go to the bakery to get desserts, and to the florist to get flowers, and I’ve got to rent the chairs and tables—oh, I have so much to do, loves!” She wrung her hands but seemed more excited than nervous.
“Do you need any help?” Jeff asked.
“Just spread the word,” Jacinta said, gathering up her parasol. “Text your friends. I’ll email everyone, get the message out. This won’t be a huge party like last time—I’ll aim for maybe a hundred. And it’s a white party! Everyone has to wear white.”
“Ah,” Jeff said. “Only a hundred. All white. Got it.”
And then she was gone, swept away in a whirl of excitement.
“I guess we’re going to a party tonight,” I said.
Jeff put his arms around me and bent his head down to my ear.
“Then we’ve got some things to do in the meantime,” he whispered. “Your mom isn’t home, is she?”
“Nope,” I said. “Sailing with investors.”
“Perfect,” Jeff said. “I’ll race you to your house.”
And so we were busy for the next few hours.
CHAPTER NINE
Later, when it was time to go to Jacinta’s party, I kicked Jeff out of my room so that I could put on my party outfit and makeup. When I came downstairs fifteen minutes later, he whistled.
“Lookin’ good,” he said approvingly. I was wearing a strapless white playsuit, kind of a ’60s look, and my hair was in braids. I wore white espadrilles and had tucked a white gardenia from my mother’s bedroom behind my ear.
“We’re lucky you already had a white polo shirt with you,” I said. “Otherwise, whomever would I take as my date?”
“I’m sure Brock or Reilly is available,” he said, pulling me close to him.
“Ew,” I said. “I don’t date Cro-Mags.”
It took us another few minutes to get out of the house, but once we were in view of Jacinta’s backyard, I stopped short and gasped in wonder.
“How did she do this in just a few hours?” Jeff said in disbelief.
“I think she’s magic,” I said, and I wasn’t really exaggerating.
Somehow, Jacinta had transformed her backyard into a white wonderland. White rose petals were scattered all over the ground like fragrant snow. White rose-shaped candles floated in the river pool. The trees were covered in white Christmas lights and white streamers. White chairs with white cushions, white tables draped with white lace tablecloths, white-clad cater waiters with white gloves serving food on white plates under a white tent—Jacinta had managed to assemble it all. At least one of the 1920s bands was back, dressed all in white and playing pre-Depression hits on the deck, which was draped with white bunting. And near the deck were two objects that would’ve seemed ridiculous and childish if they weren’t so much fun—a giant white bouncy house and a huge white trampoline. One guy was already jumping on the trampoline, a champagne bottle in his hand, while his friends cracked up nearby. A few girls were eyeing the bouncy house, and I knew that as soon as they had a few glasses of wine in them, they’d be shrieking and squealing as they hopped around in their bare feet.
As we wandered the backyard, marveling at Jacinta’s lightning-fast party planning, I overheard a few snatches of conversation.
“I got the text at one thirty and was already trying on white dresses by two,” one girl said to another. “I had to get Hunter out of his sweaty golf clothes and into a nice white shirt and shorts.”
“Oh, you’ll use any excuse to get Hunter out of his clothes, you slut,” her friend chortled.
“She could’ve given us more notice,” a third girl complained. “She obviously had this planned way in advance—couldn’t she have sent invitations last week or something? I had to cancel dinner with my parents, and they hate when I cancel.”
“Oh my God, look who’s working the party again,” another girl hissed excitedly. “Think she’ll ‘serve’ Teddy Barrington in the bouncy house?” The girls all dissolved into giggles.
Under the tent, Misti listlessly served grilled lobster and corn on the cob while Giovanni tended bar nearby. I went to get plates for Jeff and me, and I felt like I ought to say something nice.
“I like your dress,” I said. It was a pretty white shirtdress with a little white belt—much cuter than the usual cater-waiter gear.
“Thanks,” she said cautiously. “It’s from Mandee. I’m lucky I had it with me or I would’ve been shit outta luck when they told us we had to wear all white. I couldna worked the gig.” Then she looked over my shoulder, and her entire bored face lit up like the sunrise. It was so marked a change that I swiveled around to see what she saw.
Flanked by Reilly and Brock, Teddy strode around the side of the house, greeting passersby with fist bumps and hugs, almost like a politician. A few girls stopped and cooed over him, and he leaned down to say things that made them giggle and blush.
Then, about twenty paces behind Teddy, an obviously reluctant Delilah came into view. I glanced back at Misti and saw her face fall.
“Gio!” she yelled over her shoulder at Giovanni. “Make me a rum and Coke!”