Dead To You

36. and your friend, steve

It took me another five minutes of wandering throughout the first floor of the labyrinth-like mansion, very nearly about to send Mrs. Rosenbloom-Preston an exceptionally embarrassing text message about somehow managing to get lost inside her house—yes, I see the potted monstera, no, I definitely didn't eavesdrop on your conversation with your stepson in the wine cellar—before I spotted one of the server's black vests as he carried out a tray of skewered shrimp in a small glass of cocktail sauce, and was finally freed after following them back to the garden.

My eyes were still wide as I accepted a glass of lemon water, amazed that their house was even bigger on the inside, when my mother suddenly appeared to my right, startling me mid-sip. She had her phone gripped in her hand, clasped at the wrist by the fingers of her opposite hand, down at her waist as she stared expectantly at me. Then, after she let out an exasperated sigh, I remembered that she had wanted to leave, and soon.

"Did Jun's parents say they would bring you home? I texted you. I have to get going."

I briefly considered telling her that I had been too distracted, voyaging through an eight thousand square feet maze of hallways and decorative rooms then sort of accidentally overhearing Mrs. Rosenbloom-Preston admonishing Noel for what he said during his eulogy, to respond to her text messages. I also thought about telling her that I hadn't even found Jun or her family yet, but then I realized that Mom was in such a hurry to leave that she'd probably make me go with her if I did.

So, instead, I nodded and told her, "Yep. Her parents will take me home. They said it's no problem."

After I reassured my mother that I would thank the Chens for something they hadn't technically agreed to—yet, I was just a little preemptive, besides I still had my phone and my debit card on me, so it wasn't like I was stranded if for some reason the Chens refused—and waved her away with one of the speared shrimps I accepted from a server, I lingered in front of the bar for a moment before realizing I was standing in the way of an older man in a tightly fitted suit trying to sidestep around me to get a refill of his scotch.

I mumbled a quick apology before almost slinking off into a corner beside a ceramic planter of budding geraniums, discovering as I bit into the shrimp dipped in cocktail sauce that I left even more out of place without my mother there to gravitate toward and how pathetically childish that was of me.

And, almost even more disappointingly, that I didn't like shrimp, struggling to keep from spitting it out into my glass of cocktail sauce and having even less success when it came to quelling the urge to curl my lip in disgust at the cold briny taste in my mouth.

Cocktail sauce was alright, though.

"Ivy, hey!" I dropped the rest of my shrimp by the tail into the glass, smacking against the burgundy cocktail sauce with a muffled splat and a silent good riddance from me, as familiar yellow embroidered daisies on a black sundress approached me out of the corner of my eye, glancing up to see Jun's arms outstretched. Her face still looked a little puffy, but I caught a glimpse of her smile before her chin rested on my shoulder. "I've been looking for you. I wasn't sure if you were here."

I didn't know why that kind of stung, but it did. I ignored it. "I was looking for you. This place is massive. I seriously got lost in their house for, like, ten minutes." I was carefully gripping the glass with the halved disgusting appetizer inside by my fingertips over her back, making sure that I didn't accidentally spill cocktail sauce over her dress, when I noticed that there was a boy lingering beside her.

He was Asian and looked to be around our age, at least a head taller than both of us with floppy, impressively glossy black hair. He was dressed in a pair of dark slacks with a loose white, tucked in button-down shirt, the lower half of a Dexcom visible beneath the hem of the short sleeves on his arm, hands shoved casually into his pockets with a small awkward but polite smile on his face when he caught my gaze.