But I reluctantly agreed to go. I was stir crazy at home.
George always went to parties. He was always invited. The ladies flocked to him. He knew how to stand out in a crowd. I could blend in.
George was confident near the point of cocky, but most girls ate it up. I both admired and abhorred that side of him.
I couldn't talk to girls. We spoke different dialects of the same language and they had no patience for my vernacular. Still, I naively thought that someday a girl would want to try and she would be the one worth really knowing. George would say that beggars can't be choosers.
The party was in a sizable house in the foothill suburbs. It was typical of the area; three car garage, perfectly manicured lawn and a white stucco finish. If the coldesac was a mouth these homes were all molars.
Inside was a similar story; wood floor entryway, white rounded walls. Subtly furnished and garnered with random nostalgia free items. If felt like a model home. A magazine version of the nuclear family dream. I had a hard time believing the pictures on the table didn't come with the frames.
When we arrived the party was mostly outside. The smokers were relegated to the outdoors, even on an extremely cold January night. We approached the smoggy huddle like Indians to a wagon train.
I scanned for the nearest wall to plant my back and disappear. I questioned why I would put myself through this.
In my mind the the group criticized our every move. I could taste the tension. I felt like the obvious tourist at Disneyland. The guy who photographs his family up at every ride to commemorate each joyous occasion. The guy with a Goofy meets The Gap denim baseball jacket.
"George, you made it!"
A girl rushed toward George with a Corona in one hand and cigarette in the other delicately placing her occupied appendages around his body.
George smiled and exchanged greetings with her. Then he introduced us.
"Hi, I'm Evan."
She shook my hand with like an overenthusiastic used car salesman.
"Hi, I'm Odd!"
She laughed at herself like it was the funniest thing in the world. And it wasn't pathetic. It was cute. Not because of the corny joke but because she treated me like we were already friends.
She was electric; like the glowing ember of her cigarette. She took a long drag and grinned at me.
"I used to smoke a lot more, it's a filthy habit."
She reached in her bag and offered one to me. I waved my hand, slightly embarrassed.
"I didn't think you'd take one, I could tell you were one of the good ones."
I never wanted to smoke more than in that moment. It reminded me of one of my favorite songs.
"And I could taste your lipstick on the filter..."
She buttoned up her bag and turned back to me, pointing a sarcastic finger.
"You know you'll outlive us all though."
"I hope not," I said. "Whats the point if all the best people are dead anyway?"
She was lighting another cigarette, delicately teasing the edge with her lighter.
"Yeah, you'd miss me too much."
She laughed and put her free hand on my shoulder.
"I'm sorry, you probably think I'm the weirdest person in the world right now, you're like 'I only just met this crazy chick', right?"
You're right, I can't believe I only just met you.
"You got me, I'm totally inching away as we speak."
We both cracked up at that one and I thought of the song again.
"Your advantage left me helplessly into you..."
Everybody at the party was Adelle's friend. A random blend of different lives, captivated by one person. Meeting her was like waking up from a coma.
On the ride home, George asked me what I thought of the party.
I thought Adelle was great.
"I had fun, it was better than doing nothing all night."
He agreed vigorously.
"What did you think of Adelle, she's cool right?"
Yes.
"Was she the one you had a thumb war with?"
I acted like I didn't recognize the name. Like her's wasn't the only one on my mind.
He chuckled to himself like drunk people do.
"Yeah, shes super friendly man," he said twisting his arm out the window tracing the blurry traffic. "You should talk to her sometime, I'll give you her screen name."
I smiled a bit, betraying the nervous hope coursing my veins.
In the black of early morning, I thought only of Adelle. Every car that passed me, whispered her name. The city lights flickered like her eyes when she took a shot.
But as so often happened on nights like this my thoughts shifted bleaker than midnight shadows. The empty freeway was a tunnel without exits. I feared my right foot would jam the gas pedal sending my car careening into the center divider. A beautiful fireball of burning gasoline and charred cloth.
And as I let the flames engulf me, my heart would be a supernova. An all consuming flash of splitting atoms and quarks approaching critical mass.
I feared expectation. I feared George's offer. Adelle loved everyone. But she just couldn't like me. I wasn't fun like her. I wasn't cool like her. I was just me. An astronomical mess of doubts and expectations mixing inside me like domestic beer and cheap vodka. The thought made me dizzy and I nearly threw up.
This is so stupid. I don't even know her. This is hopeless. I wish I never met her.
I was in love.
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