“I don’t want to do anything,” he finally says.
I decide that I don’t want to go to the movies either and I wonder who I should go with to Daniel’s party. Maybe Blair.
“Wanna watch Alien?” Trent asks, eyes closed, feet on the glass coffee table. “Now that would freak her out completely.”
I decide to bring Blair to Daniel’s party. I drive to her house in Beverly Hills and she’s wearing a pink hat and a blue miniskirt and yellow gloves and sunglasses and she tells me that at Fred Segal today someone told her that she should be in a band. And she mentions something about starting one, maybe something a little New Wave. I smile and say that sounds like a good idea, not sure if she’s being sarcastic, and I grip the steering wheel a little tighter.
I hardly know anyone at the party and I finally find Daniel sitting, drunk and alone, by the pool, wearing black jeans and a white Specials T-shirt and sunglasses. I sit down next to him while Blair gets us drinks. I’m not sure if Daniel’s staring into the water or if he’s just passed out, but he finally speaks up and says, “Hello, Clay.”
“Hi, Daniel.”
“Having a good time?” he asks real slowly, turning to face me.
“I just got here.”
“Oh.” He pauses for a minute. “Who’d you come with?”
“Blair. She’s getting a drink.” I take off my sunglasses and look at his bandaged hand. “I think she thinks that we’re lovers.”
Daniel leaves his sunglasses on and nods and doesn’t smile.
I put my sunglasses back on.
Daniel turns back to the pool.
“Where are your parents?” I ask.
“My parents?”
“Yeah.”
“In Japan, I think.”
“What are they doing there?”
“Shopping.”
I nod.
“They might be in Aspen,” he says. “Does it make any difference?”
Blair comes over with a gin and tonic in one hand and a beer in the other and she hands me the beer and lights a cigarette and says, “Don’t talk to that guy in the blue and red Polo shirt. He’s a total narc,” and then, “Are my sunglasses crooked?”
“No,” I tell her, and she smiles and then puts her hand on my leg and whispers into my ear, “I don’t know anyone here. Let’s leave. Now.” She glances over at Daniel. “Is he alive?”
“I don’t know.”
“What?” Daniel turns to look at us. “Hi, Blair.”
“Hi, Daniel,” Blair says.
“We’re leaving,” I tell him, kind of excited by Blair’s whisper and the gloved hand on my thigh.
“Why?”
“Why? Well, because …” My voice trails off.
“But you just got here.”
“But we really have to go.” I don’t want to stay that much either and maybe going over to Blair’s house seems like a good idea.
“Stick around.” Daniel tries to lift himself from the chaise longue but can’t.
“Why?” I ask.
This confuses him, I guess, because he doesn’t say anything.
Blair looks over at me.
“Just to be here,” he says.
“Blair isn’t feeling well,” I tell him.
“But I wanted you to meet Carleton and Cecil. They were supposed to be here but their limo broke down in the Palisades and …” Daniel sighs and looks back into the pool.
“Sorry, dude,” I say, getting up. “We’ll have lunch.”
“Carleton goes to AFI.”
“Well, Blair really doesn’t … She wants to go. Now.”
Blair nods her head and coughs.
“Maybe I’ll drop by later,” I tell him, feeling guilty about leaving so soon; feeling guilty about going to Blair’s house.
“No, you won’t.” Daniel sits back down and sighs again.
Blair’s getting really anxious and says to me, “Listen, I’m really not too crazy about arguing over this all f**king night. Let’s go, Clay.” She finishes the rest of the gin and tonic.
“See, Daniel, we’re leaving, okay?” I say, “Bye.”
Daniel tells me that he’ll call me tomorrow. “Let’s have lunch or something.”
“Great,” I say, without a whole lot of enthusiasm. “Lunch.”
Once in the car, Blair says, “Let’s go somewhere. Hurry.”
I’m thinking to myself, Why don’t you just say it. “Where?” I ask.