SWNOVELS Chapter 44. The Party
COLD, COLD, COLD. In that split second I hit the water, such sensations were all my mind could register. The chill embraced my arms and legs, the bubbles tickling my skin. Maybe I shouldn’t have jumped straight into the pool; a dainty descent down the steps would have sufficed, but I wanted the band members’ persuasions (Bree’s specifically) to stop.
What would have happened if I didn’t give in to their chants and cheers? I had no clue; I didn’t bother to wind back time to find out. When I burst my head from the water, I was met with cheers from Bree, Philip, and Curtis. Bree took my hand and raised it in the air, screaming in triumph. In those few minutes, I think I’d forgotten all about the world around me, about the pressing matters that bothered me just a few minutes ago.
Deus Ex Machina and I began preparing for the party shortly after that quick dip in the pool. (Rachael never ended up swimming herself, maintaining her grumpy attitude even during preparations.) There wasn’t anything extravagant, though; we just laid out a table for a few snacks and drinks and plugged in some microphones and speakers for Deus Ex Machina’s performance later that night. It was interesting how people go through similar preparations for all sorts of events: from birthdays, to weddings, to funerals. Here I am again, putting meaning into the most mundane things, but I realized how good food and nice places bring people together, both in the best and worst times.
People slowly started showing up, and music began to play, bringing us to the chaos. Rachael didn’t look so grumpy anymore; the life of the party must have taken her over. Lost in a crowd, euphoria surrounded her, and she was unrecognizable. The apprehension she had felt toward the poolside seemed to have vanished, and the cold waters didn’t bother her anymore.
Not everyone fancied the water, though. Philip appeared to have grown tired of it, settling himself on the sofa with a few other boys from school. They played video games around beer and orange juice, and if it weren’t for the fast-paced events of the night, they might have stayed there forever.
I understood their choice to shove themselves in their own corner as the pool started to get a little more crowded. Besides, I could no longer bother swimming in circles, dodging inflatable animals and beach balls. I gazed at my surroundings, looking for Curtis. I realized that I hadn’t seen him since the preparations, though I tried my best to keep my head from falling off my neck, to keep my eyes from looking too crazy and restless. I managed to make my way to the snacks, and that was when Bree caught me. She was getting a drink herself, mixing all sorts of sodas and alcohol together.
“He’s in the kitchen,” she said.
I feigned certain ignorance. “What?”
“C’mon,” Bree chided, rolling her eyes playfully. “Go ahead while Rachael’s busy.”
I didn’t understand what Bree was talking about as Rachael was now nowhere to be seen. It was like the party gods had taken her away, and Bree decided to ignore it. She sipped her strange concoction nonchalantly, disappearing into the crowd.
I managed to find the kitchen, and Bree was right, Curtis was in the kitchen—cooking, apparently. There was a strong, sweet smell surrounding him as he fried something over a pan. For a while, I thought he was alone. I guess that was why Bree wanted me to approach him. Appointing me the manager of Deus Ex Machina commenced her match-making game, and this was all because she had seen me kiss Curtis in the storage shed—once and never again.
But at that moment, I could say that Bree was wrong to assume that Curtis and Rachael’s relationship would shatter. Curtis wasn’t, in fact, alone. Rachael appeared from behind the cabinets, taking the place right beside him. She had placed a hand on his shoulder, and they shared laughs and hushed conversations. When she kissed him, I knew that there was something else heating over the fire, and it would take a while for the flames to extinguish.
I turned around to look away, deciding that it was best to just head back to the pool area and waste away with chips and sodas. But on my way there, a low, raspy voice called my name.
“Quinn…” it whispered. “Hey, Quinn…”
I looked toward a small corridor and found, to my surprise, Julio, peeking his head from a window.
At first, I didn’t believe what I saw, given how long it had been since I last saw him, and boy, had he changed. His spiky hair was a little longer, and his eyes were more sunken than ever. He had grown a bit of stubble, his hoodie was wrinkled, and his jeans were ripped.
“Julio?” I said. “What are you—”
“We need to talk,” he replied promptly. “Quickly.” And he disappeared out the window.
This was usually the part where I’d comment on his lack of introductions. Given how long ago our last conversation was, of course, I’d expect some sort of hello from him. The thing with Julio was, however, he made matters urgent, so urgent that I needed to squeeze my body through a window in order to see where he’d gone. I wasn’t as flexible as he was, unfortunately.
Julio and I were now at the side of Curtis’ house, cramped between a brick wall and the hedge that separated us from the household next door. I could hear the party just a few feet away; I knew that if I walked forward, I would find myself back in the pool area. This tight squeeze would have been the perfect hiding place for couples to kiss and make out; thankfully, we didn’t run into anyone doing so. The night sky gleamed above us, darkening the shadows on Julio’s face.
“You’re in danger, Quinn,” he said.
“At this point, I’m not surprised,” I replied.
“No, listen. There are still people who think you’re Cassandra, and after what happened in the control room in the Spanish House, others are not letting you go so easily. Mackenzie saw you on the way here, and she plans to attack. You need to leave this place immediately. Here are your things.”
He handed me a tote bag—my tote bag. How he knew it was mine, I had no clue.
“Ms. Louise is waiting at the back,” he continued. “She’ll bring you to The MacGuffin.”
There was so much to take in, yet so little time to process everything. I even had to wrack my brain to remember who Mackenzie was: She was that girl who ran the control room in the Spanish House, and headed the torture on one of my schoolmates, Derek, to get some information from him on Cassandra.
“B—but, I can’t,” I managed. “What about the others?”
“I know Mackenzie,” Julio said. “She wouldn’t hurt Metropolitans. Besides, I’ll be staying here to make sure she doesn’t.”
Before I could argue, Julio pulled out a knife. It looked smaller than his usual weapon, making me realize that it wasn’t his—but mine. He was handing it to me.
“Take this,” he said. “You might be needing it.”
I left the knife dangling from his hand. I shook my head, shoving his hand away. “I don’t. Thanks.”
“You don’t know that, Quinn,” he pressed. “You have to defend yourself.”
He then enclosed his knife in my fingers, pressing the weapon against my palms. My legs wobbled. Julio had once told me that I couldn’t fight. That sat in the back of my mind, too. Besides, just the sight of his weapon gave me a rush of unpleasant memories, many of them branching toward Julio’s encounter with Rachael at the alleyway. Back then, he was willing to use his knife on her because he had no other choice.
You can’t save everyone, Quinn, he’d once said, even those you care about…
If I were to be put into a situation like that, I wouldn’t know what to do.
“Julio…” My voice shook as I spoke. “I’m not like you. I can’t…”
He appeared to consider my statement for a while, pursing his lips. “You have your powers,” he then said. “If things go wrong, rewind time.”
It took a few seconds for my head to process that it wasn’t a request, but a command.
I shook my head. “But I still don’t know how to control them. It just… happens.”
“You can do it,” he said. “I believe in you.”
I know that those words should have been encouraging, but coming from Julio, they sounded forced. I smiled wryly. “You could have said those things back at the Spanish House.”
“I know…” He hung his head low. “I’m sorry.”
Without knowing what to say, he then did something that caught me off guard. He pulled me into a hug, his body shaking as he took me into his arms. I hugged him back, knowing that he desperately needed it. He had gone through so much. I wished I could do more for him.
When he pulled away, his expression turned grave.
“Now go,” he said, pointing toward the direction away from the party. “Run. I’ll—”
He didn’t get to finish what he had to say. Something whizzed through the air, cutting through our conversation. We both jumped, surprised to see an arrow stuck to the ground just inches away from my feet.