STEPBROTHER: Bad Boy Blues (Taboo Romance) (8 page)

F
ive shots of Tequila and I was drunk.  I haven’t been drunk before but I knew I was drunk.  I was swaying to the sound of a Chris Brown song, the title of which I don’t even know.  I hated rap music.  Yet, I was dancing to one.

 

My voice was slurring and I was laughing at thoughts that never humored me before.

 

Maggie found it funny that I had a weak tolerance for alcohol.

 

“You’re such a baby,” she said as she continued to cackle hysterically.

 

I sucked my thumb as a reply, something which ordinarily I would’ve despised, but that night, it made us crack up with nary a care in the world.

 

Then Emerson passed by and he smiled at me.  I smiled back.

 

“I’m so glad you’re here, Betty,” he said.

 

“I’m so glad I’m here,” I answered, with a grin which I knew looked ridiculous, but again, I was past the point of caring.

 

“Hey Maggie,” he continued as he turned to face my best friend, “why don’t you and Betty join us in the first room upstairs for a little game?”

 

“Oooohhhh, I love games!” I quickly interceded.

 

“You’ll really like this one,” Emerson assured me.

 

We followed him up the spiral staircase that had enough steps to put a one hour treadmill session to shame.  Once we got to the room, a group of our classmates (and some people from the other sections) were there, around thirty of them or so... it was really difficult to count at that time.

 

“Hello peeps!” I greeted them enthusiastically.

 

They looked at me like I was some kind of weirdo.

 

Is that Betty?  Is she drunk?  Betty Smith drinks?  I thought she was a nerd? 

 

Normally, I would’ve found their comments insulting.  But not that night, not in the state I was in.

 

“Okay guys, let’s form a circle on the floor,” Emerson instructed.  The people in the room, including Maggie and me, followed his order.  Emerson grabbed a bottle and placed it in the middle of the circle.

 

“This is a spin-the-bottle kind of game,” he explained.  “Everyone knows how this goes, right?”

 

“Fuck yeah!” Maggie screamed.  “We playing truth or dare?”

 

“Not really,” he retorted.  “We will spin the bottle.  Whoever the bottle points to will have to choose another person in this group.  The one selected by the bottle as well as the person he or she would choose will have to lock themselves up in that closet for five minutes.”

 

There were
oooohhhhs
and
ahhhhhhs
from the group, as games like that often led to some naughty stuff.

 

“That closet?” Maggie asked, pointing to the cupboard at the end of the room.  “Won’t we suffocate there?”

 

“Don’t worry,” Emerson assured.  “It’s a pretty sizable closet.”

 

“Oh good,” Maggie heaved a sigh of relief.  “I don’t think me and Colton would fit there.”  She winked at Colton Matthews - a bear of a young man and a linebacker for the football team - who was seated in front of her.  Colton could only reply with an awkward grin.

 

Being drunk does affect one’s senses.  It took quite a while before I noticed who was sitting next to Emerson.  Blonde hair, big boobs, tall, slim, an angelic face tainted - or blessed, depends on who’s describing her - with a sultry pout... it was Chelsea Summers.  She was going to play the game with us...
with me
!

 

Before I could even process my anger, Emerson started to spin the bottle.

 

Round and round and round it went.  The people in the circle showed various emotions.  Most of the guys were excited.  Some of the girls were nervous.  A few of them were actually thrilled.

 

I, on the other hand, was indifferent.

 

I knew that the bottle’s head won’t point at me.  The bottle knows the people best suited for games like this... the Maggies and the Emersons and the Coltons and yes, even the Chelsea Summerses of the world... not someone who people never even noticed until her new stepbrother came to town... not someone who gets very drunk with just five shots of Tequila.

 

A few seconds later, the bottle stopped, pointing towards Colton.  Maggie immediately fixed her blouse and gave him a wide grin.

 

“Oh fuck, yeah!” Colton screamed as he punched the air.  “Boobies, get ready for the man meat of your dreams!”

 

He wasn’t really the most… eloquent… of our batch. 

 

“The first lucky bastard is... Colton!” Emerson announced and the group applauded.  I clapped my hands politely.  “So, who are you choosing to be your date inside the magical dresser?”

 

“I choose...” Colton started.  For a big and overly muscular guy, he had the highest pitched voice.  “I choose the girl with the biggest boobs in this group.  I choose Cassandra!” he continued as he eyed a fair-skinned and cute brunette seated a couple of bodies away from him.  I didn’t know her personally.  She wasn’t in my class.  But I did know that Maggie isn’t pleased at all with Colton’s choice.  After all, my best friend has been crushing - or should I say, lusting - over him since our sophomore year.  As to why, I really wouldn’t know.

 

True enough, as I looked at Maggie, I saw that she was livid.  She never liked the feeling of being turned down, and Colton’s decision not to choose her would most certainly be taken as a form of rejection.

 

Cassandra blushed, though she tried her best not to show it.  Colton stood up and took her hand.  She escorted her, quite roughly at that, towards the cabinet where they locked themselves up.

 

An uncomfortable silence enveloped the group as we waited for them to come out.  Emerson kept looking at his watch, tapping his fingers on the carpeted floor.  He never was a patient guy.  I guess it came with being the only heir to a family that owned a third of the undeveloped real estate in the county.  He saw me looking at him and gave me a warm smile.  I smiled back.

 

“Very well,” he finally said after a few minutes.  “I think they’ve had enough time.  Let’s give them a knock, shall we?”

 

He stood up and approached the cupboard.  But before he could knock, the couple went out.  Colton had a satisfied beam on his face and Cassandra seemingly checked if the front of her top was in the right place.  It doesn’t take a genius to know that they made out.

 

“Colton scores a touchdown, baby!” the mountain of a young man screamed.

 

“Everybody, let’s give our fist pair of lovebirds a round of applause,” Emerson requested, and everyone clapped their hands.  Colton assumed a victory pose.  The frustration on Maggie’s face never waned.

 

The game proceeded.  Pair after pair after pair of people went inside the cabinet, some of them more than once.  Colton, for example, was chosen by another girl, Melinda Bright, who just proved that a name is just a name as Colton was hardly a smart choice.  He led her to the dresser with the same level of enthusiasm (and roughness) as he had with Cassandra, much to Maggie’s chagrin.

 

On the sixth go-around, the bottle spun, and for the first time since the game started, I had felt a tinge of nervousness that only escalated as the bottle slowed down its twirl.

 

When it stopped, I immediately knew the reason behind my anxiety.

 

The bottle pointed at Emerson, and he instantly looked at me with the same smile he flashed earlier in the evening.

 

Colton gave him a pat on the back, as if he knew whom Emerson would choose.  Some of the girls looked at me with knowing grins, as if they were aware of something I wasn’t.  Chelsea Summers had a smirk, as if she was happy that I’d end up with someone else.  And Maggie, a picture of exasperation from the earlier events, gave me a shrug, as if she was saying that I was on my own.

 

“Who you choosing, Perdew?” Colton asked as he placed his arm on Emerson’s shoulder.  “Do we have to wait for you to say it?  Or should I shout it out myself?”

 

Everyone laughed.

 

I cringed in horror.

 

“I know, I know...” Emerson began to say.  “It’s no secret... and I’d really appreciate this time I will be spending with her...”

 

There were
aaaawws
from the girls.

 

“I think fate found a way to make this happen,” he continued rather theatrically.  “I’m choosing...”

 

He paused to take a shot of Tequila from the glass he was holding.

 

But before he could gulp it down, someone bumped him from behind.  Emerson’s head whipped forward and the Tequila splashed all over his face and his shirt.  He began to cough as some of the alcohol went straight to his lungs.  I think it went through his nostrils.

 

“Oh, sorry bro.  I didn’t know you were there,” said the guy who accidentally crashed into him.

 

It was Darwin.

 

And for the first time since that stupid game began, I found myself smiling.  I didn’t understand what I was feeling at first.  Relief, gratitude, thrill, delight, worry, exhilaration... a plethora of emotions that sucked my soul like a maelstrom at the center of my being.

 

It took a couple of seconds before I realized what it was...

 

Joy.

 

Emerson quickly stood up.  He was coughing incessantly as his nose and lungs continued to burn.  He ran downstairs, presumably towards the kitchen to get himself sorted out.

 

Darwin took his place and sat.  And as was always the case, the girls became flushed and conscious about their appearance and posture.

 

“What are you guys playing?” he asked with the tone of coolness that everyone has since adored and which I have come to admire.

 

“Spin the bottle, win a date at the cupboard,” Chelsea Summers answered as she looked longingly at Darwin.

 

“Ah, that game,” he replied. 

 

He looked at the bottle and his eyes widened.  It was a simulated surprise.  I know him enough to figure that out.

 

“The bottle’s pointing at me,” he said.  “I guess I will have to choose my
date
.”

 

Not a few girls bit their lips.  Their eyes sparkled.  I could almost hear them whispering. 
Choose me, choose me
.  Chelsea Summers’ facial expression was the most obvious as she didn’t even try to hide her excitement.

 

“I choose...”

 

The girls held their breath.  I knew that, deep inside, they were praying that Darwin would select them.

 

“I choose Elizabeth Smith!” he exclaimed.

 

I was stunned beyond belief.  Of all the pretty girls in the group, Chelsea Summers among them, Darwin actually chose me.  I had to muster enough sense to compose myself when I realized that I was looking at him with my mouth agape and my eyes stupefied in astonishment.

 

The people in the group couldn’t believe it as well.  Their mumbles filled the air.  There were curses too, but I was too staggered to pay them any attention.

Other books

Vintage Pleasures by London, Billy
Daughter of Albion by Ilka Tampke
Prep School Experiment by Evans, Emily
Catherine Price by 101 Places Not to See Before You Die
Mental Floss: Instant Knowledge by Editors of Mental Floss
Irrepressible You by Georgina Penney
Korea Strait by David Poyer