door and step outside. The night air is humid and not much of a relief but I couldn’t sit around my apartment any longer. I make my way downstairs and realize my suit is sticking to my skin and I can’t stay out here.
I can’t go anywhere. What am I doing, dressing up like superhero Barbie? Going to a party with a crowd of people I don’t know. The anonymity doesn’t bother me. It’s the minute they figure out who I am. That I don’t belong. What do I do then?
“ Zadie?”
I glance up and realize I’m standing in front of Henry’s apartment door on the first floor. He has on a white T-shirt and baggy plaid shorts. He’s barefoot and has a plastic grocery bag in his hand. “Huh?”
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” I give him a weak smile.
“You look…” he says, trailing off. His face is riddled with confusion—as he should be—I’m dressed like Black Widow and it’s not Halloween.
“Lame, I know.” I cross my arms over my chest in an effort to hide myself but all it does is squish my boobs even bigger.
“No, you look great.” He eyes me head to toe and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “Really great.”
We stare at one another for a minute because I feel stupid and he’s looking at me with the dumbest expression. Definitely not helping my nerves settle.
“What are you doing out here?” he finally asks.
I take a deep breath and exhale. I admit, “Freaking out.”
“Why?”
“Because I agreed to go to this stupid fraternity party with Tate and I’m wearing this outfit and, well,” I meet his eyes with my own. “I’m nervous about all the people and stuff. It’s the kind of t hing that triggers my anxiety. Hey!” I notice he’s not dressed up. “You said you were going!”
“ Yeah, we’re going to later, when Charlie gets off work. So you’re going with Tate?” he asks, quietly.
“Yeah, he asked me the other day. He swore to that he would be nice and not leave me stranded in a sea of sorority girls. I don’t trust him. Hence the nerves.”
Henry bite s his lip but says nothing. A light bulb goes off in my head and I realize what’s going on. Why he’s being so strange. “Look, I know I told you I’m not falling for his puppy dog thing. I’m not. I just—I want to break out of my shell a little and Tate and this party are about as far out of my shell as I’m ever going to get. I’m nervous as hell but I promise you this has nothing to do with me liking him or the risk of you finding us making out in the utility room at work, okay?”
He rubs the back of his neck with his hand and eyes me warily. Finally he says, “You’re that nervous?”
“Petrified.”
Henry lifts an eyebrow and says, “I think I can help.”
“Really? How?” I ask, but he’s already opened his apartment door and stepped inside.
“Follow me.”
On unsteady heels, I enter the apartment after him.
*
I watch Henry as he packs the small clay bowl. This is his solution. Getting high. I shouldn’t be surprised. I’m not surprised. If anything, I’m grateful.
“Why do n’t you live with Tate? You two have been friends forever.”
“He lives in the fraternity house,” he says. His pink tongue darts out and licks his finger.
“And you didn’t join?”
“Uh, yeah I joined, but things didn’t work out so well.”
“What do you mean?”
He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “I’m not really great with rules and stuff. Or being told what to do.” He offers me the pipe end. “Ladies first.”
I shake my head. “No, you.”
He shrugs like any stoner happy to get first the first shot. Henry licks his lips and thumbs the lighter. The bright orange flame bursts from the tip. He inhales deep, like a pro. When he’s finished, he hands me the lighter and bowl.
I’m less adept and fumble with the lighter. Henry exhales, coating the room in a haze of smoke and takes the lighter from me. “Here,” he says.
The paper is damp between my lips and I inhale, the smoke burning
I can’t go anywhere. What am I doing, dressing up like superhero Barbie? Going to a party with a crowd of people I don’t know. The anonymity doesn’t bother me. It’s the minute they figure out who I am. That I don’t belong. What do I do then?
“ Zadie?”
I glance up and realize I’m standing in front of Henry’s apartment door on the first floor. He has on a white T-shirt and baggy plaid shorts. He’s barefoot and has a plastic grocery bag in his hand. “Huh?”
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” I give him a weak smile.
“You look…” he says, trailing off. His face is riddled with confusion—as he should be—I’m dressed like Black Widow and it’s not Halloween.
“Lame, I know.” I cross my arms over my chest in an effort to hide myself but all it does is squish my boobs even bigger.
“No, you look great.” He eyes me head to toe and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “Really great.”
We stare at one another for a minute because I feel stupid and he’s looking at me with the dumbest expression. Definitely not helping my nerves settle.
“What are you doing out here?” he finally asks.
I take a deep breath and exhale. I admit, “Freaking out.”
“Why?”
“Because I agreed to go to this stupid fraternity party with Tate and I’m wearing this outfit and, well,” I meet his eyes with my own. “I’m nervous about all the people and stuff. It’s the kind of t hing that triggers my anxiety. Hey!” I notice he’s not dressed up. “You said you were going!”
“ Yeah, we’re going to later, when Charlie gets off work. So you’re going with Tate?” he asks, quietly.
“Yeah, he asked me the other day. He swore to that he would be nice and not leave me stranded in a sea of sorority girls. I don’t trust him. Hence the nerves.”
Henry bite s his lip but says nothing. A light bulb goes off in my head and I realize what’s going on. Why he’s being so strange. “Look, I know I told you I’m not falling for his puppy dog thing. I’m not. I just—I want to break out of my shell a little and Tate and this party are about as far out of my shell as I’m ever going to get. I’m nervous as hell but I promise you this has nothing to do with me liking him or the risk of you finding us making out in the utility room at work, okay?”
He rubs the back of his neck with his hand and eyes me warily. Finally he says, “You’re that nervous?”
“Petrified.”
Henry lifts an eyebrow and says, “I think I can help.”
“Really? How?” I ask, but he’s already opened his apartment door and stepped inside.
“Follow me.”
On unsteady heels, I enter the apartment after him.
*
I watch Henry as he packs the small clay bowl. This is his solution. Getting high. I shouldn’t be surprised. I’m not surprised. If anything, I’m grateful.
“Why do n’t you live with Tate? You two have been friends forever.”
“He lives in the fraternity house,” he says. His pink tongue darts out and licks his finger.
“And you didn’t join?”
“Uh, yeah I joined, but things didn’t work out so well.”
“What do you mean?”
He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “I’m not really great with rules and stuff. Or being told what to do.” He offers me the pipe end. “Ladies first.”
I shake my head. “No, you.”
He shrugs like any stoner happy to get first the first shot. Henry licks his lips and thumbs the lighter. The bright orange flame bursts from the tip. He inhales deep, like a pro. When he’s finished, he hands me the lighter and bowl.
I’m less adept and fumble with the lighter. Henry exhales, coating the room in a haze of smoke and takes the lighter from me. “Here,” he says.
The paper is damp between my lips and I inhale, the smoke burning
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