In This Moment by Karma Brown

Author:Karma Brown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Park Row Books
Published: 2017-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

20

I leaned into the bathroom mirror, stroking the shamrock-green mascara up, up, up my lashes. Beside me, Paige pouted her lips, applying a layer of silver-hued gloss over her lipstick—the kind that starts blue in the tube and changes according to your mood, which always seemed to be bubble gum-pink for “Feeling Flirty.”

“Did you get the stuff?” she asked, smacking her lips together to distribute the shimmery gloss.

“Uh-huh,” I replied, concentrating on getting the lashes at the corners of my eyes. The bathroom fan was on, so I wasn’t worried about my parents overhearing us even if they happened to walk by. “No way they’ll notice it’s gone. We’re good.” The bottle of blue curaçao, likely a gift from a long-ago housewarming party or another celebratory event, had been tucked at the back of Mom and Dad’s liquor cabinet, covered in a layer of dust and with only a finger of alcohol missing.

Paige jumped up on the Formica countertop and leaned against the mirror while I turned my attention to the other eye. “Wonder who will be there tonight,” she said, tucking her hands under her faded jean-clad thighs and kicking her feet back and forth.

“Stop moving everything,” I said, irritated when a blob of mascara landed in my eyebrow. “Probably everyone.” But I didn’t care about “everyone.” And as I wiped the mascara from my brow and started applying the wand to my other eyelashes, I thought of the only person I hoped would be there.

The party was at Roger Newton’s house, which was mansion-sized and had both a pool and a pond, which we used to ice-skate on during our younger year birthday parties—back when cake and presents were the highlight of a party. There were also pinball machines in the basement, a slushie maker in the kitchen, and the best part about Roger’s house was that it was frequently parentless on Saturday nights. His folks had a full social calendar, were liberal and relaxed about parenting, and trusted Roger and his older brother, John, far more than they should have.

Roger’s parents never hid the booze when they were away and usually left money for pizza. To be fair, they only ever thought Roger and John had a few people over at a time to watch a movie and eat pizza, and both the pool and pond were off-limits while they weren’t home. But none of that ever stopped any of us—swimming, sometimes without suits, depending on the kind of night it turned out to be, was a frequent summer party event at the Newton’s place—and Roger and John’s parties were epic, the kind you reminisce about years later.

Paige and I were sixteen, precocious with naivety and our immature egos. On weekend nights, when our parents believed we were at the late show at the cinema or sleeping over at each other’s houses, we did what teenagers do best—indulge our impulses. Our mantra back then was to have fun first and worry about the consequences later.

I

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