Seasons (2 page)

“Brynn, I trust you, so please don’t give me any reason not to. No hanky-panky, no drugs, and make sure you do not drink anything unless you pour it yourself. If you or anyone else needs a ride, you call me. Got it?”

“Aye, aye, boss lady!” I salute her. “I’m going to go get ready. Call me for dinner?”

“Will do.” As I walk away and up the stairs, I hear, “And no slutty clothes, B!” being called from the kitchen.
Oh, Mom.

I step in the shower and soap up my loofa with my juniper breeze body wash. As the warm stream rinses away the grit from the day, I begin to daydream. A familiar face clouds my mind. Charlie’s shy smile and his big brown eyes penetrate my thoughts. I allow it for a moment before alarms go off in my brain.
I have a boyfriend. I have a boyfriend
. I chant this mantra over and over in my head. I quickly finish washing, and when I emerge from the shower, the mirrors are completely steamed. I swipe a quick drawing in the steamed mirrors before I skip down the hall to my bedroom to get dressed.

I throw on my favorite skinny jeans and a long sleeve, low-cut teal wrap shirt since I’m sure the temperature has dropped since this afternoon. I run some styling cream through my long locks, a little smoky eye shadow, a lot of mascara, a bit of gloss on my lips, and I’m ready. Right on cue, I hear, “Brynn, dinner is ready,” from the bottom of the stairs.

During dinner, my phone vibrates from my back pocket signaling I have a text message.

Mel: Be there to pick you up at 7:30.

“Tell Mel I said hi,” Mom says with a smile.

Me: See you then. Mom says hi =)             

Mel: Hi, Mom!

“Mel says hi.” I smile back.

Right on time, I hear Mel come through the front door as the screen slams behind her. “Are you ready? Hi, Mom!” Mel says and lands a kiss on my mother’s cheek.

“Yep, just need to throw on my shoes,” I say, slipping my feet into chunky black wedges. “Let’s hit it! Bye, Ma.”

“Bye, Mom,” Mel throws over her shoulder as we leave.

“Bye, girls, have fun, behave! Call me if any of you hooligans need a safe ride! And don’t be home past midnight, Brynn!” she calls out, as she follows us to the front door.

“We will,” we call back in unison, giggling as we slide into Mel’s Mustang.

We whip through the streets of H-wood with the top down on the convertible for the first time this year. The cool night air feels amazing as it whisks my long hair back, drying the little bit of dampness that remains from my shower. Of course, we’re blasting angry chick music and singing terribly out of tune, giggling all the while as we drive.

We pull up to total chaos. Cars parked on the entire street and covering the front lawn, which is how we know we have the right house. There are people on the lawn, porch, and even on the roof overhang by a window. Club music is blaring through the night so loudly I can feel the pulsating of the beat reverberating through my body as we stroll up the walkway to the house.

When we walk into the house, it’s jam packed wall to wall with people. Being as it’s one of the last big parties of the year, Wyatt must have decided to do it up big. As we walk through, I see that the dining room seems to have been turned into a game room of sorts with two tables set up—one with a game of beer hockey, and on the other, a game of Battle Shots is taking place. Austin, a few other football players, and some half-dressed girls are engrossed in a game of Battle Shots.

The kitchen is littered with red Solo cups, and bottles of booze are scattered on all available surfaces of the countertops. The living room has a DJ set up in one corner, and a huge crowd is dancing in the center of the room where I’m guessing the furniture used to be. I only recognize about half the people here, which is unusual. Coming from a small school of only about five hundred students between four grades, people at parties are usually familiar faces, at the very least.

“Bryyyynn, Meeeelanie!” I turn my head to see where the drunken screech is coming from and see Carrie, a close friend of Mel and mine. She comes teetering over to us in six-inch heels. Note to self, booze and fuck me pumps are not friends.

“Hi, love.” Carrie wraps us in an excited and very drunken hug. She stumbles and nearly takes us down with her.

“I’m so glad to see you girls! We never get to hang out anymore!” she slurs. “Come play Battle Shots with me. It’s so fun!”

“Car, let’s go dance some of that out of your system,” I suggest.

“Aaaah! Yes, I love this song! Let’s go shake our asses!” Carrie screams as a remix of Madonna’s ‘Like a Prayer’ comes on. She drags me toward the dance floor behind her. I try to grab for Mel, but she’s already being chatted up by a guy I don’t recognize. We make our way through the crowd and start dancing. I really should have had a drink before coming out to the dance floor, I grudgingly think to myself. I’m entirely too sober for this.

A minute later, as if she read my mind, Mel reaches through the crowd to hand me over a shot of clear liquid. “Here, I think you’re going to need this.” I down it and feel it burn my throat and then warm me all the way down to my stomach.

Charlie and I lock eyes across the room as I hand her back the shot glass. He’s leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest while some blonde is fawning over him. He seems not to even be listening to whatever she’s saying. I smile at him before going back to dancing with Carrie. As I turn back around, I catch a glimpse of a familiar sandy blonde head. Ian is here? Before I can even complete that thought, I notice a bleach-blonde head come up next to his, and she’s grinding her ass into his front. I shoot a glance in Mel’s direction, and she looks sheepishly at me before she shrugs.
Ah, that’s why she brought me a shot.

I shout, “I’ll be right back,” to Carrie over the music and slide through the crowd over to where Ian is. As I get closer, I see Ian as he spins Blondie around and they lock lips. Oh, hell no! I slide up behind them, throw a hip check, and prepare to play innocent like it was just due to a crowded dance floor.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you. It’s so crowded in here,” I feign a fake apology.

It is just enough of a jolt to make them come up for air. They both look over at me and Ian’s face drops.
Bastard.

“Brynn? Hhhh, hi? What are you doing here?” Ian asks in a nervous ramble.

“This is a party someone from MY school threw. What the fuck are you doing here? And who the hell is the blonde?” I ask in a low voice.

“I’m his girlfriend, who the hell are you?” she sneers.

I burst into laughter. I’m not sure if it’s a nervous break or what, but I can’t help but laugh. They both look at me like I’m nuts. “You know what? That is actually perfect. Now I don’t have to add you to the pile,” I snicker. “You two have a good night.”

I’m still laughing to myself as I walk away when I hear the bimbo yell, “Who was that, Ian?” I get back to Carrie only to see she’s grinding on one of the football players. Instead, I decide to slink off the dance floor and find Mel still watching the drama unfold from the outer edge.

“You okay?” she asks with a grin.

“Peachy.” I giggle. “Let’s go play some Battle Shots!”

“Why are you laughing?” she asks, looking at me confused.

“Another one bites the dust. But hey, I don’t have to add him to the pile now. He added himself,” I say and nudge her shoulder. “Come on, let’s get drunk!”

An hour and countless shots later, Mel and I have lost two games of Battle Shots to Austin and some other football player. The entire game, Mel has been shamelessly flirting with Austin while I end up voluntarily taking the majority of our losing shots.

“Hey, I’m going to go outside and get some air,” I announce as I stand up.

“Want me to come with you?” Mel offers.

“I’ll go with her. You stay,” Tom or Tim says. We walk through the house and out the backdoor to a huge deck. As promised, there is a Jacuzzi built into one corner of the deck, but it’s unoccupied. There are a few people in one corner of the deck talking and finishing their cigarettes. I plop down on a double swing and Tim? I’m almost positive it’s Tim, sits down next to me. “Do you want a cocktail?” he offers.

“No, thanks. I think I’ve had one too many already.” It gets quiet when the other group outside finishes smoking and heads back to the party.

“Do you want to go in the hot tub?” he asks.

I look at him as if he must have lost his damn mind. Then, I smile and say as nicely as I can, “Maybe some other time?” Yeah, fucking right!

We start to sway slowly on the swing, and I relax as a wave of tiredness hits me. I lay my head back for just a moment, and I feel sleep winning over. I stir a little when I feel something brush my shoulder, but I’m so tired and so completely numb, I let sleep take me. The next thing I know, my eyes fly open when I hear the single scariest male voice I have ever heard growl, “Get the fuck off her!” Before I know what’s happening, Tim or Tom is flying across the deck. His back hits the rail, and he makes a huge thud before he slides down to the ground. I feel a strange breeze and look down to see my shirt is half off, and I yank it back into place. When I look over, I see a fuming Charlie staring at me.

“Are you okay?” he asks as his eyes soften. I notice the sleaze, Tim-Tom, whatever his name is, skulk off back into the party out of the corner of my eye.

“Yeah, um…I’m fine. Thank you,” I say embarrassed.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Charlie offers.

“I should really find Melanie.” I move to get up and a wave of nausea punches me in the face. “In a minute, I’ll find her in a minute.” I take a deep breath and will myself not to lose my dinner in front of this gorgeous guy who just saved my ass, probably literally. After a minute, I feel good enough to attempt movement again.

“You better?” Charlie asks offering me his hand.

I look up at him debating for a moment before I take it. “Yeah, I’m good.”

I trail behind him, hands locked as we pass through the people in the house. I notice the blonde who was hanging on Charlie earlier glaring daggers at me from across the room. When she catches my eye, she turns on her heel and leaves the room. The party has died down a lot since we first got here. I spot Mel dancing with Austin. Letting go of Charlie, I walk into the crowd of dancers to get to Mel.

“Hey, I’m cashed. If you want to stay, Charlie offered to give me a ride home,” I yell over the music.

Mel gives me a thoughtful look before saying, “No, I should bring you home. Just let me say my goodbyes.” I can tell she wants to stay, but is just being a good friend.

“No, stay! I’m good, really. Charlie can take me.” Before she can argue, I blow her a kiss and turn to walk back to where Charlie is waiting outside of the crowd. He turns and I follow him. He reaches back to grab my hand, ushering me through the other partygoers. I breathe deeply when the cool night air hits my face again.

We reach the cobalt blue pickup truck, and as Charlie lets go of my hand to open the passenger side door for me, it happens. My body betrays me, and I heave violently painting the side of the truck, the grass, and a little bit of Charlie’s shoes with the contents of my stomach. To make things worse, Charlie reaches over, rubs my back, and holds my hair while I continue to make Jackson Pollock puke art on the front lawn.

When I’m finally done, I want to die. I cannot believe I just threw up on the shoes of the hottest guy I have ever seen. Well, this should make for good gossip in the rumor mills on Monday at school. Thank God, this school year is almost over!

“I’m soooo, so, so sorry! I don’t usually drink like this! I sort of had a bad night,” I apologize, looking anywhere but in his eyes out of morbid humiliation.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he says soothingly. I dare a glance up at him. “I didn’t like these shoes anyway,” he says cracking a smile. “Besides, we have all been there.”

“I’m so embarrassed.” I look back down at my hands. “I will totally pay for a carwash on the way home and new shoes. Definitely new shoes,” I say cracking a small, embarrassed smile myself.

“I may take you up on the carwash offer,” Charlie agrees. He helps me into the truck and closes the door. I notice he takes off his shoes and wipes them off on a clean spot of grass before putting them back on his feet. Could this be anymore mortifying? I sigh and sink into the seat resting my head back on the headrest after putting on my seatbelt.

Charlie gets in the driver’s side and looks at me with a dead serious face. “Please, whatever you do, don’t puke in my truck.” A broad grin spreads across his face and then vanishes. “Seriously, though, don’t puke in the truck.”

I think I just died a little inside. “I’m good, and again, I’m so sorry!”

Charlie puts the truck into gear, pulls out of the grass, and we start out for my house. We stop at one of those twenty-four-hour automatic carwashes, and Charlie refuses my attempt to pay.

“It’s the white one with the red door,” I explain when we drive down my street. Charlie turns off his headlights when he turns into my driveway. “Thanks for the ride and…everything tonight. I still feel awful, and I really owe you one.” I look up into his intense gaze boring into me as I ramble.