Wait. That was me.
"What's up?" Kiran asked, looking from Taylor to Noelle.
"What's up is I'm sick of the morgue vibe already," Noelle said, flipping her long, dark hair over her shoulder. "Wallowing is good for nothing," she said pointedly, looking at me and Taylor. "Unless you enjoy getting your frown lines Botoxed."
48
"Noelle, they just buried Thomas last weekend," I said, the back of my throat tight.
"I know, okay? I was there," Noelle said. "But look at everyone. This is not healthy. If this keeps up, we're talking terminal downward spiral."
Just then the doors to the cafeteria slammed open and every single person in the room jumped. Dash McCafferty walked in, his blond hair flopping and eyes bright with what looked like excitement. Behind him were Josh and Gage Coolidge, who strolled along with a cocky expression on, as always, like he was working some invisible runway. Walt Whittaker brought up the rear, his cheeks ruddy from the cold, wearing a thick wool coat that came down past his knees.
Dash paused at the end of the table. All eyes in the room were on him. Freshmen, sophomores, professors stared. It was as if the king had finally arrived after we had all traveled miles to see him speak.
"It's official, my friends," Dash announced, spreading his arms wide. "We are throwing a party."
Instantly a murmur rushed across the room, like a ripple rushing outward and splashing against the far walls before making its way back again. Two seconds later, the caf was alive with chatter.
"Now that's more like it," Noelle said, brightening considerably.
"Aparty?" Taylor squeaked.
"For what?" Natasha asked.
49
"For Thomas," Gage said. "To, you know, honor his memory and shit."
"Very eloquent, Gage," Whit scolded.
"Excuse me, Master Webster," Gage said, putting on a stuffy New England accent. He placed his hand flat on his chest and raised his nose. "I intended not to offend."
Whit blushed and Gage cackled, grabbing a carrot stick from Ariana's plate and crunching into it. Josh, meanwhile, slid in behind me and sat down on Taylor's other side. He didn't look as psyched about the announcement as his friends were.
"Do you really think that's appropriate? " Natasha said, looking meaningfully at me. I loved it when someone else said what I was thinking so that I didn't have to. Natasha had another level of depth that the rest of my friends didn't seem to possess, an ability to imagine what it might be like if the person she loved had been found dead off campus. How that might feel. I suspected that Noelle had not bothered to try to empathize with me by imagining Dash six feet under. Doing that would be too unpleasant for the Golden Goddess of Easton.
"Ah, the moral center speaks," Noelle announced. She folded her hands under her chin and looked at Natasha, enraptured. "Do tell us, Mrs. Bush. What is our repression of the day?"
The guys all laughed. Natasha's eyes narrowed into thin slits of hatred. "I'm just saying that maybe not everyone at this school will see death as a reason to party."
"Well, then, they're assbags," Gage said.
50
"We already got permission from the dean," Dash told us, rubbing his hands together, as if that put an end to Natasha's argument. "We're going to do it the night before Thanksgiving break and make it totally cheesy and cool. Like some kind of Midwest prom or something."
"That's hilarious," Gage said, cracking up.
"Thomas would have loved that," Ariana said.
I looked at her. She had always hated Thomas. Had been the first to warn me away from him. How would she know what he would or wouldn't have loved?
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"Think we could smuggle in some strippers?" Gage asked. "Now that Thomas would have loved."
My body heat peaked, and I noticed everyone glancing at me to note my reaction. I tried not to have one.