Jetta is usually comfortable at parties. She's been on stage before, and a party is much less nerve-wracking. Yet, she can't escape the feeling that there are eyes on her, in unusual places. After the first round of drinks, people begin to stand and find their way around the party. The air is growing heavier and thick.

She pulls out her lighter and makes her way over towards the front door. Jetta passes by groups of students, deeply enthralled in conversation or losing their minds laughing. Her head is light, and she imagines the alcohol is only making the atmosphere grow deeper and deeper.

"Cigarettes or cigars?" Ez asks from his position against the wall. He stands against the closet at the front entrance, leaning against it.

Jetta looks down at her the lighter in her hand. "Cigarettes."

"That's terribly 1990 of you," he points out, shrugs.

She scrunches her nose but approaches him. Jetta tries not to place herself so that he is pinned against the wall, but it's practically impossible. He acts like he wants to be stuck. "So, you don't want one then?"

"They're not kosher," Ez explains. He looks Jetta up and down and wonders if she feels just as out of place as he does. Her shirt, after all, isn't tucked in properly. The other women are wearing skirts, but she wears a pair of dress pants with the pleats wrong. Something about her is different.

"Fair enough," Jetta goes outside to light the cigarette.

With nothing better to do, Ez trails afterwards.

"What's your major?" she asks him on the porch as she lights her cigarette.

Thankfully the porchlight is on, or else they would be surrounded by darkness. Ez can see the other homes where the professors live here. He hopes that they won't peak out and see him.

"English literature," he answers.

"Ahh," she says. It explains nothing to her, but she pretends like it makes sense. "Music. Violin, specifically, but I play bass more often. Not like a double bass, but like one in a band."

That's what makes her stand out, he realizes. Maybe the first one of their party not to be a pretentious douche bag.

They stand on the porch in silence as Jetta smokes her cigarette. When she is done, they head back inside.

~~~

Evelyn sits at the table. She is joined by Tom, Vieira and Roman, who sip their drinks quietly. In the next room, loud voices erupt in laughter. It seems people are letting the alcohol get to the best of them. These people are quiet. After having gone around sharing their majors (Tom is in drama, Vieira in arts, and Roman in philosophy) there is a lull in the conversation.

"So, Tom, why didn't you wear nice clothes?" Evelyn asks.

Tom chokes on his water, spitting it out onto the table.

Vieira pulls back as he does, her eyes widen. While she loves Evelyn's aesthetic, the all black and white clothing coupled with an expensive corset, Vieira isn't sure that the attitude is appropriate. Either Evelyn is feigning innocence to get in a shallow dig, or she is really that naive. It is difficult for Vieira to tell.

"Excuse me?" Tom asks. He is still coughing up water.

"It's the stitching," Evelyn points out, gesturing to his sleeve. "It's coming apart."

Roman wants to interject, but they don't know-how. They don't want to fight Tom's battle for him, but it is growing increasingly hard to sit and watch.

"The only thing I have that's nicer is my funeral clothing," he points out. "I left it in Brighton."

"Why don't you have nicer clothes?" Evelyn asks.

He looks at Evelyn, then looks at Vieira, who is sinking into her seat.

"I'm on scholarship," he answers.

"You should use some of that money to buy nicer clothes," Evelyn points out.

Roman's jaw has fallen into her lap. They pick it back up and shake their head from side to side. "There should exist among the citizens neither extreme poverty nor again excessive wealth, for both are productive of great evil."

Evelyn blinks. She looks around at the others and realizes she's committed some great social faux pas, that is out of touch with her. "I don't get it."

"Plato, again," Roman says, hoping to distract while showing support for Tom.

"It means being too wealthy is bad for you, just like being too poor," Tom says.

Evelyn bats her eyelashes. She looks between all of them, then down at her hands. "I didn't mean to be rude. I was just curious. Fashion is important. Especially in your industry, Tom. I could give you a few tips if you'd like."

Tom relaxes his tense shoulders. She's not rude, he thinks. Maybe less than intelligent, but well-intentioned.

"Vieira!" Roman exclaims, cutting off both of them from discussing any further. They pause for something to say. "Why did you choose art at Hawkwood?"

Vieira blushes and pulls her chair in. She folds her hands in front of her, as she has done in countless interviews before. She does best under these conditions. "I've liked art since a young age. My father is an artist too, Charles Manfred, but that's not why I chose to come here. I love the atmosphere. It's a wonderful place to paint."

"It's so picturesque, isn't it?" Roman says. "I disagree with Aristotle's take on beauty. He-"

"I'd love to see your paintings sometime," Tom points out. He smiles slightly, looking Vieira over.

Roman quickly takes a sip of their drink. While Tom seems interesting enough, it seems that he is more like a sponge, soaking up all of Vieira that he can get.

"Thank you," Vieira knows how to take a compliment. She has practiced it over and over with her father. Too much modesty is unbecoming after all. She is talented and she knows it.

Evelyn smiles. She loves playing matchmaker, and she already has a goal; these two belong with each other, whether they know it yet or not.

~~~

"Then I said, that's a pony," Kai says.

The others around him laugh. He wasn't sure that they would understand his joke; it takes a decent understand of polo to get. Though he thinks it could be the alcohol getting to their heads, he doesn't mind. All eyes are on him.

Luis is laughing and definitely doesn't understand the joke. Polo, like most sports, is not on his radar. Boys like Kai, with muscles like those of Michaelangelo's lovers, are hard to resist. Surely Kai's skin is smooth like marble. Luis is tempted to lean in and touch.

Only while drunk can Briar tolerate boys like Kai. Now, tolerate him she does. She giggles and throws her hair over her shoulder. A host should know better than to overindulge at a party, but Briar cannot help herself.

"That's so funny," Ellie says. She's being honest too, and that's the worst part. She bites her lip and looks him up and down. Kai seems stale, like every boy she has ever met. Her parents have class and taste, but they don't notice texture. Kai is textured all wrong for Ellie, but she thinks of her parents, who want her desperately to enjoy the stalest of cereals. "How long have you been playing polo?"

"Half my life," Kai says. "I play rugby too."

Ellie doesn't say anything, but she can smell it on him.

"I've been dancing since the womb," Felix says dryly. He takes a sip of his wine to warm his throat. Surely, there are too many calories in this. He wants to fit in right now though, and he'll just take a cold shower in the morning to help burn off the extra calories. "I kicked my Mom a lot."

Luis rolls his eyes. At least Kai manages to be subtle in his self-obsession. Felix is simply obnoxious.

"Jocks abound," Poppy sighs, looking at the other women in the group.

"Come on, I'm sure some of you ladies play sports," Kai says, leaning in closer. Which one will be his picking tonight? Poppy intrigues him like a bomb under a table. It's Hitchcockian. Ellie seems a bit stiff, and he wants to be the warm water that soothes and loosens her. Briar is perfect in every way and would be an excellent notch to his belt.

It's going to be all of them at some point, but which tonight?

Ellie and Briar exchange looks. Neither of them was the sporty type, Ellie because she was pinned under her parents' thumb who discouraged anything but feminity, and Briar because she has much better things to do with her time.

"I like to run," Ellie says.

"That's it?" Kai says. He turns his head. "What about you Poppy?"

She looks at him with half-slitted eyes. The pale green liquid in her glass swishes as she twirls it. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Not Poppy tonight, Kai thinks. Poppy is dessert. Kai might finally be satiated by her, and he doesn't want to risk it tonight.

Luis looks at Kai, and his cheeks turn pink. "What brings you to Hawkwood then? It's certainly not known for its sports program."

This is true. Hawkwood only offers the most elite of sports, like polo, fencing, tennis. There's skiing in the winters and rowing in the spring. Rugby barely makes the cut of belonging to high society. Those who are members of the teams have to pay exorbitant fees to travel and compete.

"My dad is Archibald Findlay, Earl of Loxhurst," Kai answers.

Felix looks over, "as in, the film studio?"

"That is the one," Kai says. "I'm taking film studies here, unfortunately."

"You say that like you didn't get into one of the most prestigious private schools in the country," Ellie nearly snorts but maintains a cute giggle.

Kai shrugs. He finishes his drink.

"Do you like the art program here, Luis?" Briar asks. "I've been considering switching into art history."

"It's better than most other programs," Luis points out. The conversation is turning rather dull for him like they do at most dinner parties. Especially with people like Briar. She keeps fixing her hair. Luis thinks a certain unkemptness is necessary for beauty. Briar is everything but dishevelled.

"What are you studying currently?" Kai asks Briar.

"Global communications," Briar answers. She hopes no one asks her if it's because of her dad. After all, even she doesn't know the program. "You, Ellie?"

"Psychology," she says, much to her parents' dismay. Although, if she can ever reveal the connections she has made in The Divide, perhaps they will be proud of her.

"Makes sense," Felix says. "What with the comment on my complex earlier."

"You're still thinking about that?" Ellie laughs.

Felix's face burns bright red, and it isn't just from the alcohol any longer. "Sorry, it's just so rare that anyone can find anything negative in me."

Luis rolls his eyes. This is goingto be a really, painfully, long night.

~~~~~

Things are not beginning to happen. Finally relationships are in and I can figure out who likes who and what is happening. I've already started the next chapter so it shouldn't be long. For now, chew on this. The main course, as Kai would put it, is yet to come.