Two Outta Three (Two Outta Three #1)
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Authors: S. Briones Lim
Two Outta Three
Two Outta Three Series, Book One
By S. Briones Lim
Two Outta Three
Copyright © 2015 by S. Briones Lim.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: June 2015
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-151-5
ISBN-10: 1-68058-151-1
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
To those who ever felt
the sting of unrequited love.
Table of Contents
My aunt’s drunken rendition of ‘Hark! The Herald Angels Sing’ echoed from downstairs. I winced, hearing a flatter than usual B flat and quickly shut the bedroom door, glancing towards my bed.
The old cardboard box was dingy and stained, aged and dusty from years’ worth of neglect. Sitting down on my old mattress, I plopped the box in front of me, taking a swig of eggnog (spiked with rum courtesy of Cousin Maurice) before diving into the box’s old contents. God only knew how much liquid courage I’d need to rifle through all the stuff.
The dust coated my fingertips as I lifted the lid. I took a deep breath, quickly regretting it once I inhaled the stale odor. “Ugh. Nasty.”
I shrugged it off and eagerly pulled out streamers, knick-knacks and other mementos from high school. Soon my bed was covered in piles of the glittery mess, but I couldn’t seem to find the one thing I wanted—a photograph. Sure, I’d uncovered a bunch of other pictures, all fully capturing the horror of puberty—random football games, pep rallies, a particular plant-a-tree event—but not the precise photograph I was searching for.
“Knock, knock.”
My head snapped up once my sister, Emily, entered the room. Her newly dyed blonde hair was wrapped up tight in a sock bun, making her look a bit more intimidating than usual. She sipped her own mug of rum
with
eggnog and stared at me questioningly.
“What?” I immediately dropped a pair of bright red pompoms and pushed the box away from me.
“Taking a trip down memory lane, I see. Funny how people who move away from home do shit like that.” She walked up beside me and reached into the box, grabbing a pair of plastic leis. “Ugh, I can’t believe you kept all this stuff.”
“What can I say; I’m a glutton for punishment. Guess I’m lucky that Mom never throws anything away.”
“Yeah, if you consider all things BFHS lucky. Honestly, remembering high school definitely does not seem like a fun activity to me.” Emily tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. “So what’s the deal? You just disappeared. You’re totally missing out on a
fabulous
caroling session, drunken Rossi style.”
I snorted and leaned back into my headboard. “Oh yeah. Joining along in a rum induced version of ‘Oh Come All Ye Faithful’ does sound really exciting.”
My older sister sat on the edge of the bed and peered into the box. “So…why did you close yourself up here? Though I must admit it is a lot more peaceful in your room than downstairs.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. Just felt like looking at my old things, I guess.”
“Mmhmm.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” she replied nonchalantly.
“Emily.”
She smirked. “Just saying, this urge to look back is timed pretty well with Dad’s bombshell, right?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Right.” She laughed unconvincingly. Rising from the bed, she walked over to the door and turned at her waist. “And that is precisely the reason why I moved out of Bethel Falls the first chance I got. This town’s too small to be able to forget the past.”
“You mean, besides the part where you got knocked up and eloped with Clyde?” I teased.
“Ha, ha.” She rolled her eyes and took an even bigger gulp of eggnog. “Anyway, I didn’t just come up here for snooping. Mom wanted me to tell you that you have a guest.”
“A guest? Who?”
She shrugged. “Didn’t catch his name. He’s really cute though.”
I glanced back at my box of treasures and looked up in time to see my sister leave the room. Who on earth could be visiting on Christmas Eve?
The smell of burned turkey filled my nostrils as I descended the carpeted stairs. Aunt Sonya’s ear-piercing tunes had luckily stopped and now were replaced with the bustle of multiple conversations and laughter. That is, until I made it onto the last step. All conversation ceased as soon as I stepped foot into the living room. I glanced around, fully aware that my entire extended family was staring at me. My fingers automatically flew towards my nose, wiping at it for any telltale signs of snot.
I practically sprinted towards my sister and tugged at her sleeve. “What’s going on?”
“You didn’t think they’d react any other way, did you?” she whispered.
“What are you talking about?” I hissed.
“Perpetually single and independent Raquel has a man visiting her? Please, you’d think the Queen of England just walked in the room.”
The blood drained from my face. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Rocky, hey. Merry Christmas,” a deep voice crooned from behind a cluster of family members.
My head snapped up in shock as I watched Ethan squeeze between two of my burly cousins, Matt and Joe. Despite having gone on three dates with him, I would never have imagined him crashing my family party—especially since I never actually told him about it.
“Who invited him?” I whispered in shock.
“Best bet is Mom.” Emily motioned towards our mother, who had an unmistaken mischievous glint in her eye. She threw me a wink and good God how much I wanted to shake the woman by the shoulders and scream. Where did she get off inviting Ethan without asking me? Emily turned back towards me and arched an eyebrow. “Why do you look like somebody just killed your cat? Aren’t you two dating? You’d think you’d be excited to spend the holiday with your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I shot back just before Ethan reached me. “Ethan! Hi! Merry Christmas.”
He smiled and pulled me into an awkward hug, eliciting giggles from my two middle school aged cousins. “Merry Christmas. Thanks for having me.”
“Uh, you bet.” I snuck a peek at Emily, who merely shrugged and walked back to her husband and son. Crap. There went my buffer! I shook my head slightly and plastered a fake grin on my face. “Hope you’re not put out or anything. You sure your family isn’t wondering where you are?”
Please say they are so I can insist you leave.
“Nah, they’re celebrating tomorrow. I have all night.”
My lips tightened. “Of course. Well, I guess we should grab a seat at the dining table. Don’t want to be shoved off to the kids’ table this year.” I let out a fake laugh and immediately spun on my heel.
I couldn’t believe Mom invited Ethan to our annual Christmas Eve dinner! Besides the fact that she didn’t think to ask me how I felt about it, she basically just gave Ethan the wrong impression about our relationship. I’m not saying Ethan was bad or anythin
g, but seriously, Mom; it was only three dates!
I took my seat towards the middle of the gigantic sixteen-seater table, which was set to look like an ad out of a magazine. Crystal goblets, gold reindeer, poinsettias—when it came to Christmas and our big family, my parents pulled no stops. Ethan awkwardly took the seat beside me, the fake smile never leaving his face. Oh, you know the kind. The “I must make a good impression so I will make myself look as if I had a face lift” kind of smile. His lips were curled back, showing off his perfectly bleached teeth.
“So do you think you’ll get everything you want for Christmas this year?” he asked me in a failed attempt to break the ice.
I refrained from saying that the only thing I ever really wanted was literally only two days away. Instead I responded, “Oh yeah. I’ve been a good girl this year.”
Once I realized the magnitude of the innuendo I turned away, not wanting to see Ethan’s cheeks flush over in excitement. I redirected my attention to Uncle Grady, who was preparing to make a long winded prayer. As everyone around the table quieted down to give thanks, I took the opportunity to sneak a look at Ethan.
He really wasn’t bad looking. In fact, he was quite handsome in that Hollywood sort of way. Straight nose, striking blue eyes, and a perfect smile—he could have been the poster boy for that one store in the mall, which ironically sells their clothes by using shirtless models. He was the epitome of clean cut, right up to his pompadour hairstyle. He was every mother’s dream come true, which explained my mom’s blatantly obvious attempt at hurrying our relationship along—if I could even call it a relationship. It wasn’t as if we were exclusive or anything.
Yeah, Ethan was a nice guy. Yes, he was successful. Yeah, he was handsome. So why wasn’t I leaping at the chance to jump his bones?
“And a very Merry Christmas to all of you. Amen!” Uncle Grady’s closing prayer snapped me out of my thoughts. My family cheered and soon the clanking of silverware filled the dining room. As Ethan joined in on the laughter, I couldn’t help but prop my chin onto my fist and frown.
Two days. In just two days I’d be seeing
him
again. The boy—er,
man
now—who was probably the cause of my inability to fully commit to a relationship. I’d be seeing the very man who had tainted my view of the male species for the past five years.