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painfully obvious that I couldn’t even focus on James. I looked over my shoulder at him. Trying to see if he was really thumbs-up material. Maybe just because he was older. But it wasn’t just that, I decided while I was trying to see him with new eyes. In purely objective terms, he was good-looking. I mean, if you divided people up into categories of good-looking, he’d be in a flattering category. I just wasn’t attracted to him. The whole world was like a big black hole waiting for Randy’s face to come along and fill it. Randy’s face was like a drug to me. Something I needed. Something I got very edgy without. James had a face, but it didn’t fill that craving.
    I caught a whiff of someone’s cigarette smoke.
    “Oh my God, can you please take that outside!” I yelled. Before I even checked to see if it was someone I knew well enough to yell at. It wasn’t. And then I felt bad because I yelled. You can do that with friends. They won’t take it the wrong way.
    This guy I didn’t even know said, “I’m not going to set the straw on fire. If there’s a spark I can always stamp it out.”
    “It’s not the straw,” I said. More politely. “I don’t want it in my lungs.”
    “I got a right to smoke.”
    James appeared at my left shoulder. “Want me to take care of this for you?” Very much the gentleman. It was an offer I almost wanted to take him up on. I’m not used to chivalry, and I almost wanted to take it for a test-drive. But I like to fend for myself.
    “Let me try logic for a minute,” I said to James. Then to the idiot with the cancer stick, “Remember the first thing they taught us about rights in school? Your right to swing your fist ends where the other guy’s nose begins? Well, your right to smoke your cigarette ends where my lungs begin. If you can keep your smoke out of my lungs I’ll defend to the death your right to kill yourself. But I don’t want to die. So I’ll ask more nicely this time. Please will you take it outside?”
    He sighed. Rose dramatically to his feet. Took it outside.
    “Nice,” James said.
    “Thank you,” I said.
    Then I looked up to see Randy and Rachel walk in. Holding hands. The world collapsed on itself like a house of cards. Not one freaking building left standing.
    I took hold of James’s hand. He looked over and smiled at me. More than a little surprised.
             
    I guess I need to cut to the chase here. There were other segments of the party, other horrible moments. But in the great scheme of things, they don’t really matter. This matters.
    Sometime around eleven or so, Randy and Rachel ended up in a stall. They weren’t the first or the last. But it happened.
    Now, I don’t want to give a wrong impression of the whole stall experience. They only have half doors. Anybody could walk right up to one and look right over the door. So it wasn’t quite the same as going off into a bedroom and locking the door. But close. Something was going on in there. Maybe not everything. But something.
    Randy looked back over his shoulder at me on the way in. I’m not sure what I saw on his face. Maybe regret. Or even longing. It was hard to read.
    I was just about to ask James to take me home when he took hold of my hand and led me into the stall right next door to you-know-who. He closed the door behind us, then smiled. Put a finger to my lips.
    “I know we’re doing all this to make him jealous,” he whispered. “But it’s okay.”
    I noticed that my mouth was open. Literally. That thing about someone’s mouth hanging open can actually happen. “How can that be okay?”
    “Well. It got you to go out with me. Anything that gets you to go out with me is good. When you get to know me more, you’ll see. I’ll treat you a lot better than he ever did.”
    Up to this point I might have sworn my stomach couldn’t hurt more or drop lower. But I would have been wrong. It was like James opened a window and let me look into his mind. Not a pretty