You've all seen teen movies right? The kinds where the kids are all having a great time, the beautiful girls giggling and squealing and holding onto their boyfriends as their hips groove to the beat of the latest top 40 hit? Hair flying, beautiful people, the hum of the coming together of the surrounding area's social circles. Well sort of. Because mostly if you're at this, you're "in". The exclusive one. If you're there you are part of the blessed ones. Or, you could be type B: those climbing their way to the top of the social ladder by providing some kind of perk or another. You've all seen this right? You know what I'm talking about, whether you've been there or just seen it.
Whether you've been Jake with the beer you bought with your older brother's I.D. or Sarah whose parents are gone for the weekend… and you have never really done anything wrong but when word gets round that you have this empty house…and all the bored beautiful ones need a place to take hold of things change. Suddenly your name is suddenly being thrown around and sought after like that limited edition YSL white eyelet dress seen on the mannequin in the savvy section of Bloomingdale's at Fashion Island.
Regardless if you're Sarah, or Jake, or just you…you all have your ideas about the teenage party scene. In my world, it's always been your ideas…times ten. It's Kelly with the coke, or Shannon with her mom's beach house for the weekend and Brandon's dad has a share in 87 of the real estate of Southern California so pull up your mom's Mercedes (or your very own white Lexus you got as a present for "good" grades) and pour yourself a glass of cold Stoli's over ice at the just add water Wet Bar. Everything is always at our fingertips, everything is always within a perfectly manicured fingertip's grasp. Tonight Kristin's party at Suracose was no different.
We took my silver BMW and drove the familiar drive down the Pacific Coast Highway. Music blasting the newest by Interpol, one of Cohen's last CDs he made for me before our untimely end. Yes, a bit of a jab at Anna. Driving a beautiful car, and letting her wear my beautiful clothes while playing the CD of the boy I had won over her was all supposed to make me feel good and well. Supposed to make me feel powerful and indestructible, like I used to. I had painted my pink nails black tonight, in a sudden urge in my room with Anna. "Linkin Park After Dark" the bottle of OPI had said and I had laughed to myself. Usually I would cringe at such a color but not tonight. My glossy black hair hung loose, and in the wind I didn't even mind it. I was dressed to kill and I tried as hard as I could to remind myself that I knew it. A black silk BCBG halter that hung in all the right places draped and my newest skinniest dark washed pair of Joe's Jeans. Faded black kitten heels and dangling diamond earrings a la my stepmother completed my look. Fierce. Sex Kitten. Meow. Anna was adorable as usual. Spunky and even playing dressed up in my clothes she looked fresh and funky like some sort of new aged Twiggy. Fucking adorable. And as we found a spot nearly a block away and I cursed to myself about walking so far in my heels she just chippered on about how great the night would be. Of course I smiled back like the team she thought we were on. Christ, I bet nearly expected a new arrival of "TEAM ANNA AND SUMMER!" tshirts at Lisa Kline for us to wear matchy matchy around school.
But as I slid open the all glass paneling side door the "any real estate's orgasmic dream" beach house, I could feel my adrenaline rushing. The way they all looked at me, even when being discrete. Because that first time harbor party scene girl by the wet bar flirting with the water polo players, in her fresh tennis skirt from Juicy Couture and her hair pulled back trying oh so hard, that girl knew me. They all knew me. And as suffocating as my life had been, that blissful few seconds of empowering Anna in that room got me off more than repeating any mantra in the Dr.Philesque self-help books late at night. Call me crazy, I think I've already figured that something has fallen off with me. Not that I'd admit that to the world. Of course the water polo team, and the soccer team made their way over. Popped collars, big white smiles, trying to get me my drink of choice in hopes that maybe I'd shed my black La Perlas for them tonight in the upstairs bedroom. Anna clung to my side her eyes scouting the room for Seth. I judged it silently, but in the back of my mind I knew I was doing the same thing. Fucking Seth Cohen. Of course this thought made me flirt more wildly with Christopher or Charlie…or whatever his name was.
I kept it under control though and even humored Anna by letting her share in the flirtation but I knew it was me they wanted. The quirky blonde… or the infamous Summer Roberts, I knew it wasn't a hard choice to come by. Without Marissa at my side to look after a most of these parties that I slipped to in the night now, I knew I could think more about myself. My loyalty to Coop is really undeniable, and I would never drink around her, especially now after all she has gone through. That's really how much I love her. But in the night, here, when I get away from it, when I could throw back my head and give into the dizzy night and forget how much I had truly lost is when I thought of no one but myself. The music jumps into your bones, and I let Josh, or whatever, dance with me. Anna grooved at my side with the lesser version of whatever boy I was letting touch my hips. My hair stuck to my lip-gloss and I let him slide his hands firmer on my hips, because I had what he wanted. I had the power. I could flirt with danger as much as I fucking wanted to. I turned around, letting the music get the best of me, putting my lips so very close to his.
"You want it?" I whispered against his ear. Turning to look him hard in the eyes.
He groaned, nodding as I drifted my hand lower, never breaking eye contact.
"You really do?" I said my hands back on his back, the raised feeling of sweaty polo shirt and Ralph Lauren Cologne against my fingertips.
"Yes!" But he couldn't look at me.
Loser. I let go, trotting away at the call of my name by some other guy or girl at the wet bar. Leaving whatshisface on the dance floor with a massive boner. This to me was funny as I covered my mouth and giggled. Because I did this all the time, sometimes flirting with the idea of taking them upstairs, sometimes I did, but I never let them fuck me.
Because in the end, I am not as vulnerable as my doe eyes look. I wasn't going to give into some water polo fantasy, if anything I was going to live out my own. Anna ran after me as I slid down at the bar, taking a seat and put her hand on my thigh.
"That…was…AWESOME!" Her voice high and bubbly as champagne. She was clinging to the bar, already riding the edge between quite tipsy and drunk. She touched my arm and I gave her a weak smile.
"This party…Summer, everything is so incredible." And I smiled again, because it was. I was used to it though. Everything was always dancing around words like "amazing, incredible…fabulous." But I was getting bored and there was that feeling in my nerves again. I was starting to feel it again, like how I felt in the blue light of the pool house as I crept in to regain what was lost by washing it down with the prospect of having sex with Ryan. The chattering, almost like a cold chill that made me feel exposed and transparent… like glass in this house full of people. Anna looked at me with her big eyes and quizzical drunk looks, and my heart caught as I saw something on the other side of the room. A track jacket, black curly hair, gangly posture:
Seth Cohen registered immediately in my mind.