The Truth about Us (10 page)

“What?” the boy asks. “That's Allie West's sister.”

“So? Do you think she wants to talk about it here?” the girl asks. “Shut the hell up.”

I say a silent thanks for her compassion. My thoughts for the boy aren't nearly as generous.

“Whatever.” The boy turns back to his friends and reaches for a pipe that's getting passed around.

The girl acknowledges me with a tiny nod. It shakes me though. It's getting harder to breathe. I'm usually fuzzy around the edges, so if people notice me at parties because of my mom, I have no idea. God, I don't want to think about what happened now.

My throat scratches when I swallow, and sweat trickles down my back. My eyes go to the fridge. There has to be alcohol in there. A familiar urge nibbles at my brain. The pleasant buzz from a drink. Leaning against the kitchen island, the counter hard and cool on my hip, I run my hand over the smooth surface. It's marble. My mom hates marble. She thinks it's too showy. My dad likes it for the same reason.

“You looking for a drink?” a girl calls from across the kitchen, a tiny redhead. It's Brittney. She blended in with the other kids. “Take what you want.” She's wrapped up under the long arms of a tall boy.

“Thanks,” I call. One of the other kids says something, but it's hard to hear what it is. Pushing off the counter, I walk to the fridge and open it. There's an entire shelf of alcohol, and I grab a vodka cooler, pop off the lid, and chug. There's an unexpected noise behind me, and I jump as a boy staggers inside the kitchen.

Great. So not what I need right now.

Josh Reid stumbles into the kitchen, a big smile on his face, unsteady on his feet. He's wearing his usual expensive jeans and chest-hugging T-shirt. He swims competitively and loves to show off the perks. He has a black hat perched on his head, and there's no doubt, he's a nice-looking male specimen. Too bad we don't have anything in common except hormones. I hope for a second he won't notice me, but of course I'm not invisible, even to drunk ex-boyfriends.

“I thought I saw you heading toward the kitchen.” He shakes his finger and heads for me in a zigzag pattern.

“Hey, Reid,” one of the boys at the stove calls. “What you doing here? I didn't think you could breathe oxygen.”

Josh's eyes are glazed and red, and he's clutching a bottle of Corona with a lime floating on top of the liquid like a dead fish. He lifts his free hand in the air, his middle finger saluted upward at the boy at the stove, but doesn't take his eyes off of me.

“Yo, Jess,” he says, a noticeable drunk slur to the
s
. He's a lightweight drinker. “Looking good.” He walks over and touches my hip and then pulls his finger back, pretending to have burnt himself. Then he laughs, and it's a silly drunk giggle that reminds me a little of Kyle, and it makes me smile.

Josh misinterprets it. “Want to make out?” He winks and purses his lips, apparently trying to look sexy but barely passing for ridiculous. It's embarrassing that drunk me actually fell for his crap.

“Not really.” I throw my cap at him, and it bounces off his chest.

“Hey.” He looks like I just farted or gravely injured him. “What's wrong?”

I barely resist rolling my eyes. “I'm too sober,” I tell him. Way too sober to talk to Josh Reid. Way over Josh Reid. Sober or not. Good on paper or not.

He frowns. “I haven't seen you in ages. You haven't been to any parties lately. I tried texting you, but Nance said you don't have a phone.” He tries to look sexy again. “What's up with that? I miss you.”

“Yeah?” I glare at him. “And why is that?”

He frowns. This is not the usual script. If I were in the same state, we'd fight and flirt-insult each other for a while and then start making out. We'd do the whole hooking up thing, and afterward, we'd avoid each other. I sigh, seeing too clearly how pathetic it is.

“You're drunk.” I step backward, skimming my back against the kitchen island. “Ouch.”

“And you're not.” He takes a step and runs his finger along my cheek. I turn my face, but he takes my cooler and holds it up to my lips. “We should fix that. You're way more fun when you're drunk.”

I push it back. “Not today,” I tell him.

Not today, but every other time. Angry with myself and not missing the irony, I tilt the bottle back and finish half the cooler in one chug to try to bury that anger.

“Hey.” He winks in an exaggerated motion. “That's my girl.” He moves his gaze slowly up and then slowly down my body, and it makes me feel dirty.

“Not your girl, Josh.”

“Totally my girl.” He grins and reaches for my hand. “Totally my type.”

“You mean female?” I narrow my eyes.

“Burn.” He grabs his heart, stumbles a little, and laughs, taking another sip of beer. “My feelings for you are no secret.” He tips his hat further down his eye, trying to be sexy. Not succeeding.

“Your feelings for me are fueled by alcohol consumption,” I remind him.

He laughs again, but he's starting to look like a priest in a lingerie shop. Things aren't going as planned.

“You're hurting my feelings.” He leans down. “I have them, you know. Feelings.” He tries to look sexy and seems like he's going to try to kiss me, so I lean back and move my head away from him.

“You okay?” an angry voice interrupts.

I look over. Braxton is in the kitchen. Frowning. I imagine an invisible question mark dangling over his head. He has a vodka cooler in one hand and a beer in the other. “I've been looking for you. I got you this.”

Yeah. I am so freaking popular all of a sudden. And everyone wants to get me drunk.

I step to the side so Josh isn't looming over me anymore. “I'm fine. This is Josh. An old friend.”

Josh takes a sip of beer. “Boyfriend,” he clarifies.

“Ex-boyfriend,” I add. “If we want to be generous and call it that.”

Braxton walks closer to us. “You sure you're okay?”

“She's fine, man. Who are you?” Josh asks. Even drunk, he manages to give him a superior look. Josh'll be a cutthroat lawyer someday. Just like daddy. His and mine. He never hesitates to go after people's weak spots. “The help?” Josh adds, lifting his chin. He sees through Braxton. Josh drives a Porsche his dad bought him for his sixteenth birthday. He lives down the street from Brittney.

“I'll help you, fucker,” Braxton says and walks forward, rolling back his broad shoulders. I realize how big he is. Josh is long and lean and could easily outrun Braxton, which is good, because I'm pretty sure Braxton would kick Josh's ass. Braxton puts his drink down on the island and stalks forward, so I place a hand on his chest, pushing him back.

“Forget it. I said
ex
. And it was nothing dramatic. Josh is cool. We were just talking. I'm fine.” I glare at Josh. “You can go away now,” I tell him.

Josh stares at me and then at Braxton. “Seriously? You'd rather hang out with this trailer trash?”

I keep my hand on Braxton's chest. “Get out of here, Josh. Don't be an asshole,” I say. The two of them are giving me a headache.

Josh stands taller and suddenly looks more sober. “Your taste in friends is pretty questionable.”

“Clearly,” Braxton says, crossing his arms.

I drop my hand. I have an urge to tell both of them to fuck off. They've sucked out the last of my positive emotions. I'd rather be in my bed, feeling like an unpopular loser, than here.

“Whatever, Jess,” Josh says. “You want to hang out with freaks, that's your problem.” Josh stomps to the fridge, opens it, and takes two beers but still manages to give us the finger as he continues his stomp out of the kitchen.

“You okay over there, Jess?” Brittney calls.

“Fine,” I call back. “But if you ever want to grow your own dope, try planting Josh Reid.”

The group of kids around the stove laughs. At least someone appreciates my humor, because Braxton glares down at me.

“You seriously went out with that guy?”

I shrug. “If you want to call it that.”

“Are you still into him?” he asks.

“Obviously not. I like being single.” It's a message and not a subtle one, but it's time to make things clear in case he has ulterior motives. Which it kind of seems he does.

Braxton gestures toward the counter where he put down the cooler. “I brought you a drink.” He hands it to me. I take it without a word. He holds his bottle up to toast. We clink and he chugs as I sigh. He drinks his beer in silence while I hold mine without taking a sip.

“You know what?” I tell him. “I'm pretty tired. I think I'm going to head home. I can walk. It's nice out and not far.”

“Already?” Braxton's cheeks are rosy, as if he's mad but trying not to be. “We just got here.”

“I'm sorry.” I sigh, not wanting to deal with his crush on me, but I don't want to give him false hope either. “I guess I'm not in the mood for a party. And I left my mom at home alone.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “Yeah? I left mine alone too. But she's a big girl. She's fine.”

“My mom…” I start and then stop, sighing, and glance at the kids by the sink, but they're not paying attention. Brittney and her boyfriend are making out. The others look zoned out. “She hasn't been feeling well for a while.”

“She's sick?” he asks.

“Long story.” I put the vodka cooler down on the counter, done pretending that drinking it is going to happen.

“I should drive you home,” he says. “If you really want to go.”

I point at his beer. “No. I'll be fine. I'm good walking. Anyhow, I hope you're not going to drive later.”

“I have a DD, but I've only had a couple anyhow. And you shouldn't walk alone. Not all guys are as nice as me.” He sips his beer, watching me.

“It's all right. It's not far. And it's nice out. I should find Nance first, let her know I'm leaving.”

“Your friend with the boobs?” He grins adorably. “Sorry. But it's true.” He takes a sip of beer. “I saw her outside, drooling all over Flynn.”

My heart races as if I've been hit by a jacked-up defibrillator.

“Flynn?” Without thinking, I pick up the cooler and take a big gulp. “You mean he
is
here?”

“I told you. I ditched Flynn to come and get you. I didn't tell him though, and he left for a while, but he came back.” He narrows his eyes, watching my face turn the color of a Christmas poinsettia. “Aw man, for real?” he says, shaking his head. “I thought you two didn't like each other. I thought you were immune to the Flynnster.”

“What do you mean?” I blink and cover my hot cheeks with my hands.

Flynn is here? No way I'm leaving now.

“He was a jerk to you that night I drove you home.” He shakes his head. “I'm the one who was being nice.” His voice has a whine in it, and I understand how it feels playing second fiddle. I've done it for Nance lots of times. It's obvious he doesn't know Flynn and I see each other at New Beginnings.

“We've run into each other a few times,” is all I say.

“He mentioned he ran into you and you weren't as bad as he thought.” He shakes his head some more. “But I didn't know you were into him.”

The kids around the stove burst into laughter, and we both look over, but they're laughing among themselves, not paying any attention to us.

“I kind of hoped you liked me.” His face droops, and he looks like he lost his favorite bone.

“I do like you…you know as a…”

“Oh God. Don't say it. As a friend? Please. It's the kiss of death.”

“It's nothing personal.”

“No? It seems kind of personal to me.” He crosses his arms and frowns.

“I'm sorry. It's just…” I sigh. I can't make up a boyfriend to let him down because I'm afraid it will get back to Flynn. Whatever I say to him could get back to Flynn.

My foot taps the tile floor, now aware that Nance is outside flirting with Flynn. I trust Flynn, but Nance, not so much.

Braxton slumps against the counter. “Great. Another female friend.” He sips his beer and frowns. “Is there something wrong with me?” His voice cracks and makes me feel bad for deflating his ego.

“Not at all. You're a nice guy.”

“A nice guy? That's worse than liking me as a friend.” He stares at me and then chugs the rest of his beer and slams the bottle on the counter. “Fuck nice,” he says, and then he lets out a huge belch.

“Good one,” one of the boys calls.

Braxton and I stare at each other, and then we both start cracking up.

“Gross,” I tell him. “But you're still terribly attractive,” I add. “With really big muscles.”

“Yeah?” He stands straighter and tilts his head. “Whatever. Do you mind if I go after your friend, Jennifer?”

I stare at him. Did I think I was irreplaceable? I laugh harder. “Part of me wants to be insulted.”

“What?” he asks, blinking and trying to look innocent.

“Jennifer's kind of…” I try to think of a nice way to describe her. “She usually goes for older guys.”
With
lots
of
money
, I don't add.

“Really?” He shakes his head. “'Cause I think she was kind of into me. She was flirting pretty hard.”

I laugh again. “You bounce back pretty quickly,” I tell him.

“Hey. I held back on your account, but I like to keep my options open.” He smiles and he's like an eager little boy again. I decide I do like him. As a friend.

I think about Jennifer. She likes attention. She wants a summer fling. Hopefully she won't eat him alive. “Go for it,” I tell him. “It's not as if you need my blessing.”

“You're right.”

I hand him the cooler. “You want this girly drink?”

“Fuck girly. It's alcohol. And it's free.” He takes it and pounds the whole thing back.

“Do you want to go outside?” I try not to look as eager as I feel.

He shakes his head. “Now I get why he agreed to come to this party with me. I thought I'd have to drag him here. Or at least bribe him.”

My cheeks warm, but it's pleasure warm, not embarrassment.

“How come girls never go for the nice guys?” Braxton asks.

I happen to think Flynn is one of the nice guys. “I'm pretty easy to get over. It's kind of embarrassing,” I say instead.

“Flynn always gets the girl. He should have told me. I may have mentioned you once or twice.”

I wrinkle up my nose, hating that a lot. “Jennifer,” I remind him.

He smiles. “Jennifer.” His lips drooped and he looked away. “You know that Flynn and me, we don't exactly live like…” He waves his hand around the kitchen. “He's got family stuff to deal with. His family is…” He shakes his head.

“I know,” I say softly. “And all this doesn't matter so much,”

Braxton rolls his eyes. “Easier to say when you have it.”

“Yeah. You're probably right.” I shrug. “My family is pretty messed up. If that makes you feel any better.”

“Yeah?” Braxton asks as he follows me out of the kitchen.

“Yeah.” We walk side by side through the hallway back to the living room.

There are more bodies crammed inside the house now. The music and buzz of voices is louder. Braxton opens the back door and holds it for me. We head onto the deck, and it's packed with people. Even in the dark with all the chatter and laughter mixed with music, my ears manage to pick up on Nance's distinctive laugh. My eyes zoom in on her, and I almost throw up in my mouth a little. She's sitting on the railing of the deck, her arm through Flynn's, and she's gazing at him with her super Nance flirt powers. Full smile, mesmerized gaze, like he's the most fascinating person on the entire planet. I've seen it melt boy brains before.