Buzzed Hearts

05: don't feed the flowerbeds

JERICHO'S SHOOTING BALL in the Yang driveway when they arrive and Jeremy slams his hand down on the car horn until Jericho slides off to the side, glaring in the sun.

    Before Jeremy even parks, Elle leaps out of the passenger side and into the Jericho's arms.

    "Did you grow? I swear you did."

    Camila can hear Elle talking, her raised voice as she compares her height to his.

    "You saw me like two weeks ago, chill out," Jericho laughs and greets Camila with a handshake. He doesn't admit it but he's intimidated by her demeanor. Not that she has a resting face of any degree but by her overwhelming positivity.

    The pessimists flock together, the Yang siblings and Elle Arora, while Camila leans against the car hood and listens to their conversation, untangling the string choker she has around her neck. She's never been one for accessories but the scoop of her top needed balance.

    "Are you going to crash?" Jeremy asks Jericho.

    "The party? Nah," he says, "I have an interview tomorrow morning. Don't want to show up shitfaced in my new suit."

    Elle raises her eyebrow.

    "Yeah, I'm working now. Suck it, kids. How old are you guys again? Seventeen?"

    "I'm eighteen and I'll fucking fight you, I didn't come here to be talked down to by some phony who can't even make reservations over the phone," Jeremy retorts.

    "Who's the one that dropped his laptop from the second floor because the toaster strudel in his other hand was too hot?" Jericho plays with the basketball in his hand and stares at his brother.

    "Hey, boys, tone it down. Your negative vibes are feeding into the flower beds and then they won't bloom next spring," Elle cuts in sarcastically.

    Camila jumps off the hood and heads inside, kicking off her shoes as she opens the door. The rest soon follow her in and down to the basement, where the tv's still on, blasting a recorded episode of Seinfeld. She sighs and collapses on the sofa, tired of hearing their bickering. Every once in a while, she actually joins in but Laurent still occupies her mind.

    "Do you think he has a girlfriend?" she asks, eyes vacant and reflecting the screen. The laugh track cues from the show. Or live audience. She can't tell the difference.

    The three pause and Jericho gives Elle a blank stare, who makes eyes at Jeremy, who shrugs his shoulder and leans in, an arm around Camila.

    "Who are we talking about?" he asks.

    "Laurent."

    "Oh my gosh."

    "Oh my god."

    "Who?"

    "Laurent! Laurent King!"

    "And Camila! Camila Bean!"

    "She's interested."

    "The question is—is he?"

    Her friends break out loudly, talking over each other with wide grins and eyes. Although this occurs almost every other week, they react the same each time, because Camila is their puppy and they need to look after her.

    "Guys, chill," Jericho says.

    "You chill." Elle rolls her eyes. "I don't know. He's pretty much out of the social radar because he never posts anywhere. Super mysterious but super hot if that's what you're into."

    "What if he doesn't like girls?" Camila asks.

    "Everyone likes girls. Everyone," Elle reassures her.

    "No, like, sexually."

    "Oh. I don't know? Do I look like his browser history?" Elle asks.

    "Use incognito, kids!" Jericho laughs.

    "I'll ask him. Guy to guy," Jeremy offers. "Let's see if he's at the party tonight."

    "Let's see if Roma's going," Elle says and pulls out her laptop, checking the Facebook group.

    "You know that no one even takes that seriously," Jericho whispers in her ear as he leans over her shoulder to see what she's up to.

    "It's worth a try."