Page 6 of Told You So
With reluctance, Reilly nods, his eyes scanning the room like he’s looking for someone.
“Sam’s not here,” I tell him. “She and Mac don’t come to parties.” My words register, and I frown. “At least, I don’t think they do.” Now that they’re freshmen, I really don’t know what to expect. The pseudo big brother in me hopes they won’t come to the party, anyway. I shrug, grab Reilly a plastic cup, and pump the keg.
“Why would I be looking for Sam?” Reilly asks, but he’s an idiot if he thinks I don’t know there’s some sort of attraction between them lately. Either he’s trying to keep it from me for some reason or he’s in denial about it himself, so I leave it alone. “Go say hi to a girl and make her swoon or something. You don’t look like you’re having any fun.”
Reilly just rolls his eyes.
“Fine, be that way, but you’re the DD,” I tell him and shove his cup at his chest with a grin. The slow-as-molasses rate in which he pounds beer is embarrassing anyway. “I’m happy to be the delinquent for the night,” I say and pour one for myself.
Finally, Reilly gives up a smile, and despite my jokes and gibes, I allow myself to relax a little bit for the first time tonight. I just wish Reilly would have some fun, too. I want him to forget his life for just a little bit and be a teenager with me.
“So,” Reilly says above the surrounding conversation. “What’s up with you tonight?” He takes a sip from his cup and raises his eyebrow. Ihatethe eyebrow raise. It means he sees too much.
“What do you mean?” A guy bumps into me and I try not to spill my beer.
“You seem really into this party tonight. It’s weird.”
I laugh because it’s what I do. I laugh and play the role of the happy one. The jokester and tension-breaker who tries to keep the peace all the time. It gets exhausting, which is why I love nights like this. “It’s my parents,” I grumble. “And Sam.”
Reilly takes a step closer. Ever the serious one, he leans in so I can hear him clearly above the music. “What do you mean?”
Shrugging, I take a drink of my beer, forcing myself not to grumble at the shift of the mood. It’s too much to get into with all the noise and the nasally, teeny-bopper voice emanating from the speakers, but Reilly won’t leave it alone if I don’t give him something. So, I hedge. “Sam and Aunt Alison are at it again,” I tell him. Although Reilly has been friends with Mac and Sam since elementary school, like I have, he’s missed a lot, on account of his dad being such a dick. So, over the years I’ve become the girls’ sounding board and confidante, especially now that my aunt and Sam’s dad are together.
“And your parents?” Reilly prompts, and all I can do is laugh.
“Nothing new there. My dad’s pressuring me about college. About my future at the firm.”
“No baseball scholarship then?”
I shrug his question away. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Opening my arms, I peer around the room. “We’re teenagers! Partying is an excuse to act our age.” My smile widens. “You should try it sometime.”
“Yeah, and go home to my drunk dad,” he mutters and takes a step back. I pretend I don’t hear him over the laughter and music, and I take another gulp of my beer.
I hate Reilly’s piece of shit dad, and I hate that Reilly is too proud to ditch his misery and live at my house. I hate that I have to accept it and that there’s nothing I can do to make his life even a little bit better. So, I chug the rest of my beer down, then pour myself another one.
“Hey, Reilly! Turner!” Rod Slinsky shouts from across the room. I nod as he bumps his way through the crowd toward us.
“Don’t indulge him tonight,” Reilly warns. “Slinsky’s a dirt bag.”
“Yeah, but he’s on the team. I can’t ignore him. Besides, he’s probably a lot more fun than you are tonight,” I say with an elbow to his side.
“Whatever. Come find me when you’re ready to leave,” Reilly says and makes his way through the crowd. He lifts his cup to Slinsky as they pass each other, but they don’t exchange more than a what’s up.
“I was wondering if you’d show up tonight,” Slinsky says with a shit-eating grin on his pockmarked face. He moves in for our team handshake and a clap on the back. “Praise Jesus for short skirts, huh? This place is poppin’ with hotties.” As he peers around the kitchen, I can’t help noticing that for all his talk about chicks and the high life, I’ve never actually seen him with one. He appraises everything, eyes wide and indulgent. “Whose place is this, anyway?” He grins at a group of girls on the other side of the kitchen, like a hungry wolf.
“Uh, I think her name is Anna Marie something-or-other, but I don’t even know what she looks like. Just that she’s a freshman.”
“That’s what I love about being a jock. You get invited to all the parties. Even silly little freshmen want the dick.”
“Yeah, well, keep it in your pants, Casanova. That’s a horror for another night.” I laugh at myself and pop another chip into my mouth.
“You’re hilarious,” Slinsky says, and he pours himself a beer. “Where are your girls tonight, huh? Shouldn’t they be here, making the rounds, getting to know the school and the jocks?” When his eyebrows dance at the thought of Mac and Sam, I resist the urge to punch him in the throat.
I glare at him warningly instead. “They’re off limits, Rod. Don’t even think about it.” I wouldn’t let Slinsky anywhere near them, even if my life depended on it.
He studies me for a minute, looking me up and down like he’s trying to figure out how serious I am. I’m more than serious, and he seems to get the idea. His palms fly up. “Hey, I hear ya, Turner. Loud and clear. You can’t blame a guy for lookin’ though. The blonde is so sweet and—”
When I notice another familiar blonde with long hair hanging over her shoulders, standing in the mouth of the kitchen, my breath hitches unexpectedly, and it’s easy enough to ignore whatever bullshit Slinsky’s spewing.
