8. Everett
CHAPTER EIGHT
Everett
THEN
“Eight-year-olds like Batman, right?”
I look up to see my mom walk into the kitchen with a Batman figurine and a bright blue gift bag. She waves the toy in my direction, beckoning an answer.
“Uh, yeah,” I answer, dipping my spoon into my cereal.
She sets everything down on the kitchen counter, taking out the tissue wrap and stuffing it into the gift bag. A blank, apathetic stare takes over the focus in her eyes. Like she’s checking out, doing what she can to forget the changes surrounding us. The emptiness in her home signifying the absence of her parents. The lack of my dad’s voice constantly on the phone or busy running through the house, always late to a meeting or practice or press-related things, exposing our new living arrangement, making it harder for her to ignore.
The bell chimes, announcing a guest at our door, and my mom offers a placating smile before walking away to answer it.
“Everett!” my mom calls. I walk to the front door to find Josh there with a basketball tucked under his arm. When my mom sees me, she opens the door wider. “I’ll see you kids at the party in a few hours,” my mom says, walking away.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Josh answers, jerking his chin in my direction. “Wanna play until the party?” He tosses the ball in my direction, and I catch it against my chest.
“Yeah,” I answer, throwing the ball back at him. “Let me just go change.”
An hour later, I’m in Josh’s driveway in my swim trunks, ready for Andrew’s pool party, with Josh already sweating bullets down his bare chest. I join him, pulling off my own shirt, already soaked through, and tossing it to the side.
Josh rests his hands on his knees and smacks away the ball bouncing in his direction. “Shit, I’m more out of shape than I thought.”
I laugh. “Summer will do that to you.”
“Coach is going to be pissed if he sees me like this.”
“You still have some time before pre-season starts up,” I say breathlessly. I’m just as out of shape as him, and the unexpected workout has me winded.
“Josh! Help set up the tables!” We turn to look at the front door where Josh’s mom has poked her head and is waving a hand in our direction. “Hi Everett!” she adds before hurrying back into the house.
“You want to set up some tables?” Josh asks, rolling the loose basketball toward the grass where it won’t roll into the street.
“Sure.”
We both walk with heavy sluggish steps into the house, still a little bushed from the last hour spent outside. Josh walks ahead of me, and I trail behind, wiping at my face using the shirt I have in my hand.
“ Oof! ” A sharp gasp and a body colliding into mine makes me curl inward and grunt.
I rounded the corner from the stairs without looking, and Teeny crashed into me as soon as she stepped off the last step, rushing down the stairs with the pitter-patter of urgent feet. Her palms press into my stomach and my hands instinctively grab her arms to stop her from falling back.
“Eww!” Teeny grimaces, pushing herself off me. “You’re all sweaty.”
I laugh, shaking the sweat hanging off my hair to land on her cheeks and nose. Her face scrunches, her lips pulling into a cute pout as she fakes disgust. She ducks her head to avoid my perspiration sprinkle while the bubbly sound of her laughter turns infectious.
“Ugh, you’re so gross.” She’s pushing me away even more, shoving my shoulder, but she’s all smiles and giggles. I notice then what she’s wearing. A black bikini top and jean shorts. Her bare stomach is exposed, showing the evenly tanned skin on her midsection, and I can see faint tan lines run across her chest and shoulders. Like she has various bathing suits with different straps and ties, making marks based on what she chooses to wear. “You should jump in the pool. Get all of that gross sweat off your stinky body.”
I smirk. “Only if you join me.”
Instead of humoring me, she tilts her head to the side. “I have snack duty,” she says, walking away, but I don’t miss the pink flush blotting her neck and shoulders.
I follow her to the kitchen where she has a bunch of different snacks laid out. Cupcakes, brownies, cookies, candies. She disappears into the pantry and returns with a box of Pop-Tarts before removing one from a sleeve and warming it in the toaster.
I mosey over to her side and pick up the box, reading the label. “Frosted Wildlicious Wild Berry.”
“You can say that without twisting your tongue, but you can’t say ‘excusez-moi.’”
“It’s English,” I argue.
The toaster jerks, spitting out the Pop-Tarts with a jolt. “Want one?” she offers.
“Aren’t these breakfast foods?” I tease.
“I like them,” she answers with an innocent shrug. She reaches for the freshly toasted Pop-Tart resting in the toaster and picks it up with the tips of her fingers to avoid the heat, but it doesn’t seem to help in the way she expected because she plays a short game of hot potato before quickly placing it back in the toaster slot. “Ah!” she exclaims softly.
“Is it hot?”
She nods, flicking her wrist to ease the burn. I take her hand, spreading her fingers apart and blowing at them with my lips inches away from her fingertips.
Her breathing kicks up as I notice her chest rise and fall at a more rapid pace than before, her lips parting to softly exhale a breathy sigh. My thumb brushes over her wrist, and I feel the faint beat of her pulse. It’s fast and thready. A flush crawls up her neck, and I almost debate letting go of her to ease her flustered state. Almost.
“Better?”
She nods, and a little bit of those nerves dissolve as her hand falls slack in mine. “Thank you.”
Her fingers curl over my palm, and our linked hands sit there, hovering in the space between us. She looks at me over the curve of our fingers, and she smiles. It’s soft and gentle and playful. I smile back, the upward slope of my lips mirroring hers. I want to tug her closer to me. I want to press my lips to the small spot on her skin that got burned. Maybe even throw a scolding glare and a light smack to the toaster. Payback for her injury.
Mr. Cohen walks into the kitchen, and I let go of Teeny’s hand. He eyes us, the only two in the kitchen with Teeny’s pink-tinged cheeks and my shirtless torso, and tells Teeny, “Can you help Andrew get dressed? He can’t find his lightsaber for his costume.”
She looks over at me with a knowing smile, and I see Mr. Cohen watching her. “Sure, Dad.”
Teeny leaves, and I’m caught with the kitchen island sitting between myself and Mr. Cohen’s stern stare.
“Hey,” Josh calls, walking in behind his dad. “There you are. The tables are in the garage.”
I clear my throat. “Yeah,” I say, aware of Mr. Cohen’s watchful gaze. “Let’s go.”
* * *
The smell of barbeque and sweet desserts fill the air outside in Josh’s backyard. We’re surrounded by the sound of screaming kids, adults laughing and talking, and the occasional giggles from Josh’s cousins. All girls, who look to be about fourteen or fifteen, huddled over two folding chairs. They keep looking over at where Josh and I are, standing next to the grill his older brother, James, is manning as he pokes at it with an excessively large set of tongs, repetitively turning a spread of hamburger patties and hot dog weenies. Teeny walks over with an empty plate, and I instinctively stand up taller.
“Can I get a burger, please?” she asks James.
Her hair’s wet, and she’s ditched her shorts. In their place is a damp towel wrapped around her waist, and a smattering of goose bumps trail her arms. James places a perfectly prepared burger on her plate, and she slides a step closer to me and stoops next to the cooler at my feet to remove a can of Sprite.
“Looks like you have a little fan club over there,” she says in a low voice as she dangles the cold soda can dripping with condensation by her fingertips.
We both peer back at the group of teenage girls, now about six of them, still stealing glances in our direction.
I smirk, too awkward for this type of attention.
She hums thoughtfully. “Are you shy?” she teases, an amused smile lifting the corners of her mouth.
“No,” I answer in a low whisper, looking away and busying myself with my food.
She fakes a shocked gasp. “You are!”
I narrow my eyes in her direction. “No, I’m not.”
“You totally are,” she taunts with her voice at a near whisper, poking her finger in my direction. “Oh, Everett. That’s no good. We can’t have the hot new guy be a closeted recluse.”
One corner of my lip turns up. “You think I’m hot?” I ask, the whisper in my voice matching hers.
We’re interrupted by a loud splash. Josh grabbed one of his cousins, one of the giggling girls on the other side of the pool, and threw her in. Along with Andrew, who willingly jumped in with one of the other girls, they’re all creating chaos in a big water fight.
“I’ll jump in if you will,” I dare Teeny.
“I just got my food.” She holds up the plate in front of me.
I take the plate and the unopened soda can from her, and she lets me, watching me as I place it on top of the cooler.
“It’s going to get cold.”
I ignore her, stooping down to grab her by the waist. Her towel falls to the ground, and I rush into the pool with my arms still wrapped around her and her screaming into my ear. I see Teeny’s arms flail under the water while we’re both submerged and when we break the surface, she gasps in shock in my direction.
“Everett!” She laughs, splashing water at me, and I do the same. We’re joined with a slew of happy screams and squeals, all drowned by the violent sloshing and splattering of water.
I feel hands on my shoulders followed by the pressure of weight pushing me down. It’s not heavy so I’m able to fight it off, and when I turn around, I find Teeny attempting to climb me. I duck into the water and lift her from her hips and flip her over my shoulder. We’re creating a show, and people start laughing at us before Teeny’s mom announces that it’s time for cake.
The pool starts to empty, but I wait for Teeny. She finds me and splashes a testy wave of water in my direction. “That was so not fair,” she sulks, though a smile peeks through her anger.
“How so?”
“You’re like twice my size,” she states. “I’m at a huge disadvantage.” She flicks more water at me, and I dodge it with my shoulder. We’re the only ones in the water now, and we move around each other, wading in the deep end in circles.
“Yeah, but you speak French better than I do.”
She laughs. “How does that help in this situation?”
“You could’ve always outsmarted me.”
She rolls her eyes and starts toward the edge of the pool to join the rest of the party. “I’ll get you back,” she says over her shoulder. “You better sleep with one eye open, Hayes.”
“You’re last naming me now?” I ask, following her out.
“Only when you’re in trouble. And that”—she waggles a finger in the direction of the calmer water—“was definitely last name worthy.”
She hands me a towel from a stack that was set aside, and we both dry ourselves. Everyone else has gathered around a large folding banquet table near the lawn area, and we slowly make our way.
“Teeny! Mommy got me a Death Star pinata!” Andrew shrieks, running to tug Teeny toward the cake. It’s a large sheet cake decorated with various Star Wars characters and figurines on top with a large number eight candle.
“Wow! That’s so cool!” Teeny responds, following along with the large towel wrapped over her shoulders.
I join the crowd, all huddled around the birthday boy, standing next to my mom who has a clear plastic cup of wine in her hand. “Having fun?” she asks, taking in my drenched state.
“Sure,” I answer with a smile.
“It’s good to see you’ve made some friends,” she adds, nodding a head toward Teeny and Josh who are now standing next to their parents, James, and Andrew.
“Uh, yeah,” I say, my voice low and hesitant. “We go to the same school, so…”
“Well, they’re nice kids. And their parents are really nice.”
I nod, looking over at Mr. Cohen hovering over Andrew. “Yeah, they are.”
The happy birthday song is cheerfully sung, and the cake is cut haphazardly into small squares before it’s passed around. People start to scatter around the backyard holding small paper plates of chocolate cake and plastic forks.
Josh sits next to me in one of the lounge chairs outside, empty now that the giggling teens were ushered inside to watch A Walk to Remember . I can hear them cry and squeal while I see flashes of Mandy Moore’s face on the big screen.
Teeny steps out of the house just then. She looks freshly showered and has replaced her bikini with a baby-blue sundress and sandals. She combs her fingers through her wet hair and strolls up to Josh. She has the cordless phone pressed to her ear, and she whispers a quick, “Hold on. Let me ask him,” before stopping at his feet. “Did you hear about Jake’s party?” she asks.
“Yeah, he just texted me about it.”
“Can I get a ride with you if you’re going?”
“Mom said you can go?”
Teeny nods. “As long as we help clean up before we go.” She walks away back into the house, and I watch her, her mouth moving a mile a minute with the back of her dress damp from her hair.
Josh peers at me over the curve of his shoulder. “You wanna go?”
“What is it? Just a party?”
He nods. “Yeah, Jake’s parents own this huge house off the beach. It’s sick. Like a five-car garage and a movie screening room.”
“Sure,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “I just gotta let my mom know.”
We spend the next hour cleaning up and stuffing trash bags with paper plates and soda cans. Once that’s all squared away, I go home to change, and we’re on our way to this Jake’s house with Teeny in the back seat.
I catch glimpses of her behind me in the passenger seat through the side-view mirror. She’s peering out the window, mouthing along to some song playing on the radio, when Josh calls for her attention through the rearview mirror.
“Teeny.”
“What?” she answers, her gaze still fixed on the view outside.
“Don’t drink tonight,” he instructs in a big brotherly voice.
“Yeah.”
“I mean it, Teen,” he says more sternly. “Mom’s going to kick my ass if you come home drunk.”
“I’m not, Josh!” She rolls her eyes.
The drive there isn’t long, and when we pull to a stop at the curb, we all exit at the same time. We’re greeted by a long street filled with cars and people herding toward a large house at the end of a fully packed driveway.
When we walk inside, Teeny disappears almost instantly, and I follow Josh as he’s greeted by other members of the senior class. Most of them I know already, some I’ve met but haven’t said anything beyond a simple introduction from Josh.
“Josh! You came!” It’s Jake. He’s a senior like me and Josh and someone that’s pretty well known on campus. He drives around in a shiny black Mercedes, probably brand spanking new considering his parents are loaded. I don’t know him well, but I do know he’s a little loud and brash. Probably all the money that’s gotten to his head.
“Jake,” Josh calls, greeting him with a smile. “This is Everett.”
“Everett,” Jake says, nodding his head in my direction with a cocky smile. “The new guy. I heard you made varsity,” he adds, folding his arms across his chest.
Josh pats Jake’s shoulder. “Word travels fast.”
“Come on,” Jake urges, turning toward the thick of the crowd. “Let’s get you guys a drink.”
We walk into the kitchen where it’s crazy crowded. There’s knocked over Solo cups, chip crumbs, and used shot glasses all over the kitchen counter. People don’t seem to bother attempting to clean up, their attention more focused on the loud music and the game of beer pong off to the side in the dining room.
Jake reaches into a cooler and pulls out two cans of Heineken before handing them to us. “There’s a keg out by the pool, but you guys can warm up with these.”
Josh waves his hand in his direction. “I’m driving.”
“I’ll drive,” I offer.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” I extend my hand, silently requesting Josh’s keys as he takes them out of his pocket.
“Well, since he’s designated driver, you can have both.” Jake shoves both beers into Josh’s chest and walks away, hooting into the crowd that welcomes him with cheers and open arms.
The entire house starts to get even more crowded. Josh starts adding to the two beers he finished, harder stuff like Jameson and J?ger. People file toward the pool outside when it gets cramped inside, and I lose track of Josh. I wander around, finding myself near the pool where most everyone is occupied in drinking games or circles of rowdiness and even more drinking. There are a few chairs scattered throughout the concrete area by the pool, and I sit in one, leaning forward with my elbows resting on my knees.
“Hey.”
I turn to see Teeny sitting in an empty chair next to me with a red cup in her hand.
“Breaking the rules?” I ask, nodding at her cup.
“It’s strawberry Fanta.” She extends it in my direction, waving it under my nose. “Happy, officer?”
I smirk. “Want to jump in?” I jerk my head toward the pool where a group of people are playing a game of chicken fight while onlookers cheer them on.
“No, thank you,” Teeny responds flatly. “So, not having a good time?”
I shrug. “I’m okay. You?”
“My friends found an interesting game of truth or dare, and I lost interest after one of them got dared to use the kitty litter in Jake’s laundry room.”
That draws a chuckle out of me. Teeny stares into her cup, and a soft draft blows between us, pulling her hair back and exposing the darkening freckles lining her cheekbones and nose. She’s wearing a little bit of makeup tonight, a swipe of lip gloss and a light layer of blush and eyeshadow. She looks less like Josh’s baby sister and more like Teeny. The Teeny I sit next to in French class and share glances with when I run into her while taking out the trash or pulling into the driveway. In fact, I’ve unknowingly been looking for excuses to be outside my house during the day. Get something out of my car, help my mom with the groceries, check the mail. Whenever I hurriedly slip on my flip-flops and step off my front step, I glance toward Teeny and Josh’s house without realizing it, hoping to see her.
“Come on, new guy,” she instigates, nudging me with her elbow. “Let’s ditch this party.”
“I’m designated driver,” I tell her. I whip out the keys in my pocket and dangle them between us.
“We’ll come back,” she says pointedly. “Josh won’t even know we left.”
I look around like we might get caught doing something we aren’t supposed to and look back at Teeny. She’s got these big round puppy eyes peering up at me, and I shake my head.
“All right,” I surrender. We both stand, slinking off to the side door leading out to the front of the house, making our way to Josh’s car. We quietly get in, almost like we’d burgled the place and we’re trying to make a quick getaway, and buckle up. “So, where to?”
“Just head out to the main road, the same way we came in, and I’ll tell you where to go.”
Jake’s house isn’t far from ours, so the roads aren’t too foreign, but I still need Teeny’s guidance to know where I’m going. After a few left and right turns followed by a big curve into a residential area, we’re face-to-face with the beach. I parallel park in an empty spot along the curb and we both exit the car.
It’s about ten degrees cooler out here, most likely from the stronger coastal breeze this close to the water, and Teeny wraps her arms around herself. I peek into the back seat of the car where I saw a blanket hiding and get it for her, wrapping it over her shoulders as we reach the sand.
“It smells like stinky boy.”
I laugh. “What does a stinky boy smell like?”
“I’ve lived with three my whole life,” she states. “I know a stinky boy when I smell one.”
“Am I a stinky boy?”
She takes a faux, and dramatic, whiff in my direction. “Not right now.”
She doesn’t take the blanket off though. Instead, she wraps it tighter around her and saunters off toward the water. I follow, clumsily trudging through the sand. When we reach the area next to a lifeguard tower, before the sand turns wet from the ocean waves, Teeny stops and plops herself to the ground. I sit down next to her, leaving inches of space between us.
“You know I haven’t been to the beach since I moved out here.”
“What? Why?”
I shrug. “Haven’t really thought to. I’m not really missing out, am I?”
“You tell me,” she teases. She bumps her shoulder into mine and waves her hand in front of her, gesturing toward the open ocean.
“It is pretty nice,” I say, unable to argue the fact that I had indeed been missing out.
“You should see the sunset,” she adds. “It’s pretty breathtaking.”
“I take it you come here often?”
She nods. “It’s a little chaotic in my house. The only nuisance out here are the pooping seagulls.”
“You’d take pooping seagulls over your brothers?”
“Not all the time,” she answers, smiling at me. “Just…”
“I get it,” I tell her, ducking my head down to the sand. “There are times when I feel like I need to get away too.”
“From what? Your empty house and your mom who looks like she wouldn’t hurt a fly?”
“She usually does her own thing,” I tell her glumly. Her smile drops and her brow furrows into a disapproving frown. “It gets a little lonely sometimes. Just me and my thoughts.”
“Oh.” I feel her warmth lean closer into me. Possibly a gesture of sympathy or simply a reminder that I’m not alone. Especially here with nothing but Teeny and the ocean waves to remind me I’m more significant than a tiny speck on this big scary world.
“Yeah, but you know, it’s nice hanging out with Josh. And I like hanging out at your house.”
“Well, we got that big dining table and an empty spot without James at home so…”
I nod with a small, grateful smile.
She stands then, slipping off her sandals and dropping the blanket onto the cold sand before walking to the water. I watch her for a moment as she gently treads along the low tide until she looks back at me, waving her hand for me to join her. I stand and remove my own shoes, and when I reach her, she splashes a mischievous gust of water at me.
“Hey!”
“Payback for earlier.”
“Oh, is that what we’re doing?”
She laughs, running away from me, and lets out a loud squeal when I splash her back. It doesn’t take me long to reach her, considering one of my steps equals about two and a half of hers, and when I do, I lift her by her waist.
“Everett!”
I ignore her plea and walk to the thick of the water.
“Everett! No!”
“I think you earned it,” I tease, speaking into her hair that smells like coconut and vanilla.
“ NO! I’m going to freeze to death!” She struggles against my grip, her legs flailing and her hands clawing against my arm. I set her down, her feet now submerged under the water, and she shoves her hand into my stomach. “Bully!”
“You started it!”
She takes a step backward, her hands up in front of her like a shield. “Yeah, because you deserve it!”
She reaches down so quickly I don’t even see the splash of water until it hits my face. She darts away, and I go after her. She runs to the lifeguard tower, using it to create a shield between us, but I get to her too quickly. I catch her, just as our feet tangle and we land on soft sand riddled with shards of seashells and small branches. We tumble to the ground, my body covering hers with my thigh nudged between her knees. Her hands brace my waist, and we start to pant from the running, from the laughing, and she looks up at me with her hair fanning her face in the sand.
She looks absolutely stunning. Those dark freckles blend in with her skin behind the shadows of her face, and her eyes glisten in the moonlight, making them glow. My eyes finally zone in on her lips after I’d tried everything to avoid looking at them. Dividing two hundred and ninety-one by three, reciting the alphabet backward, trying to remember my locker combination from the eighth grade. But once I couldn’t remember if my locker combo started with eighteen or eighty-one, I said fuck it. Her lips look like they’d taste sweet and soft. Like they could help me drift off to a soundless sleep while fueling an entire ten-mile run.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks, her voice breathless.
“Like what?”
“Like you want to kiss me.”
My own breath catches against her, finding that when my chest expands, my body pushes harder against her. “Maybe because I want to?”
“Then do it,” she coaxes, her eyes so serious and intense.
“Yeah?”
She nods, and that’s all it takes. I crash my lips to hers, and she reaches her arms around my neck, pulling herself closer to me. Her lips feel like silk, all soft and pillowy. And I don’t know how, but she tastes like peaches. Sweet and warm and fucking delicious. I feel her knee hook over my hip at the same time she whimpers into my mouth. I respond by kissing her deeper, like I’m taking her kisses from her instead of waiting for her to offer them to me. I dip my tongue into her mouth, and she lets me, tangling her own tongue with mine.
“Everett,” she whispers, pulling away from me. Our breaths start to come out in heaves. When her hands rake into my hair from my neck, I just want to keep kissing her. Over and over and over again.
“Yeah?”
“I-I don’t know,” she stutters. “I don’t know why I stopped.”
“Probably because we should.”
She shakes her head. “Should we?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?”
Her lips are swollen now, and a flush has crept up her neck and cheeks. “I don’t know either.”
My elbows dig into the rough grains of sand. It starts to buff and grind into my skin, but all I can focus on is Teeny’s face. I want to trace all the little freckles on her face, connect them together if only as an excuse to touch her. I want to memorize them, note all the differences between each one. Like how the one under the inner corner of her left eye is the darkest of them all. Or how the three that trail off the side of her nose looks like Orion’s belt. I feel her fingers trail my forearm, and it’s a zephyr-like jolt of electricity. It zaps through me. Like a lightning bolt that bursts through my chest, sparking something vibrant and stirring.
“We should probably head back,” she whispers. “Josh might wonder where we are.”
I hear a tremble in her voice. It matches the reticence in her eyes.
Should I not have kissed her? Maybe I gave in too easily. I should’ve been the more responsible one. Waited a beat before letting my body act on impulse. Unease starts to wind its way down to my stomach, churning this fear inside me that I might have ruined whatever is budding between me and Teeny.
When she doesn’t say anything else, I reluctantly agree, standing with my hand extended toward her. She tugs at it, and we start to brush the sand off from our clothes and the bare skin of our arms and legs. I see specks of sand on the back of her head and reach for her hair, dusting it off. She turns around and faces me with a sheepish smile.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
We quietly walk back to the car, the air a vast difference from when we arrived. While we drive back, it’s still quiet. The only sound between us is the low hum of the music playing off the radio, turned down as if to amplify the silence between us. When we reach the party again, we sit in the car for a minute before getting out.
“Teeny,” I say, my voice suddenly so loud in the stretched silence. “I’m sorry.” I’m not even sure what I’m apologizing for. It sure as hell isn’t that kiss. I wouldn’t take it back for anything. But I need to make things right with Teeny. I care about her too much to walk away without making sure our friendship remains intact after tonight. Especially if that’s all she’ll give me.
“For what?”
“For what happened back there. Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to do.”
“You mean the kiss?”
I nod.
“Are you taking it back?”
I look at her, the regret in my words causing my voice to sound urgent. “No, no Teeny. Not at all.”
“Then why are you saying sorry?”
“Because I don’t want you to think I took advantage of you,” I tell her.
“I’m not a child, Everett,” she says coolly, followed by a bitter scoff. She opens the car door and stalks out, slamming it shut behind her. She starts stomping off without a second glance, leaving behind a residual hurt from the resentment in her voice.
“Teeny!” I jog after her, glad that I can always seem to reach her faster than she can get away from me. “Teeny, wait.”
“What, Everett?”
“Look, that came out wrong. I—I just felt that maybe…”
“Everett,” she says, looking over her shoulder when we hear a few people leave the party. She shoves me toward a long row of bushes where we’re hidden behind its tall shadows. “I’m not some kid you lured away from this party. I asked you to leave. I told you to go to the beach. If anyone’s taking advantage of anyone, it’s me of you.”
I huff a laugh and scratch the back of my head.
“What’s so funny?”
I laugh again. “Nothing.”
“You’re laughing.”
I take a step closer to her, my gaze set on her eyes. The only light veiling over her is coming from the sparse streetlights. The dancing silhouettes that fill her face along with the anger making her pout makes me want to kiss her again. But this time with no post-make-out apology. “I’m not,” I assure her.
Her head jerks back like I’ve insulted her. “I don’t know if you know the definition of laughter, but I think you need to get yourself a diction?—”
I grab her face in my hands and kiss her again, cutting off her words. She doesn’t fight me. Instead, her hands reach for my waist, wrapping her arms around the small of my back. My hands curl into her neck, and Jesus, I could get lost in her lips. Like they were made specifically for me to kiss, the grooves carved and buffed so they fit perfectly against mine.
“You are not taking advantage of me,” I whisper against her skin. “Not by a mile.”
She grins, followed by a reluctant frown on her lips. “You totally did laugh,” she pouts, shoving her hands into me.
I stumble a step back. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I was just laughing—” I’m interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing in my pocket. I take it out and see Josh’s name flash on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Hey! Where’d you go?!”
“I, uh—I’m just outside. You ready to go?”
“I need to find Teeny first,” he says, yelling over the noise in the background. “She needs to get home soon, or my parents are going to kill me.”
“I actually just saw her,” I say, looking at Teeny. She has her arms crossed over her stomach and her eyes round.
What? she mouths with a soft whisper.
Josh, I mouth back at her.
“I’ll get her and come find you.”
“Yeah, I’m in the kitchen.”
I hang up and look at Teeny. “Josh is ready to go home.”
“Yeah, let’s go find him.” She turns to walk away but then I tug at her arm, pulling to flush against me. I peck her lips, resisting the temptation to fall into another kiss.
“Can we talk? Later?”
She nods. “Yeah, of course.”
I grudgingly pull away from her and follow her lead back into the house. We find Josh quickly, right in the middle of the crowded kitchen surrounded by a round of freshly poured shot glasses.
“Eyyy! It’s Everett!” he calls in a slow, slurred voice. He tosses back the shot and slams the glass onto the kitchen counter.
“You sure he’s ready to go home?” Teeny asks, leaning into me with a hand cupped to her mouth.
“That’s what he told me.”
I look at her and laugh with a questioning shrug.
“Okay, okay,” Josh says, reaching us with a tomato red face and glazed eyes. “That was the last one. I’m ready to go.”
“You sure?” Teeny asks.
He lazily loops his arm over Teeny’s shoulders and pulls her into a loose chokehold, rubbing his knuckles into the top of her head.
“Josh!” Teeny shrieks. He laughs gleefully and lets go of her.
“Come on, Joshy. Let’s go home.”
I duck my head to let Josh’s arm drape over my shoulders and guide him outside to his car. I safely get him in, tucking him into the back seat where he flops across the seat instead of sitting upright. I take the blanket I’d thrown into the back seat and dust off the sand before covering him with it.
I get into the driver’s seat, and Teeny looks at me from the passenger seat and giggles.
“Shh! You’re going to wake the baby.”
She covers her mouth with her hand, and when she lets out a muffled laugh, Josh stirs in the back. “How am I going to sneak him back home?”
“Would your parents be mad if he stayed at my house?”
“I don’t know. Probably not,” she says, peeking over her shoulder where Josh rumbles a loud snore.
“Just let them know he came over to my house to watch movies. They can call my mom if they want.”
“You’re going to handle that?” She points her thumb behind her.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Okay.”
I drive home in silence. When we hit a red light, I glance over my shoulder to see Josh still sleeping soundly, his face squished into the cushions of the seat underneath him. I reach across the center console and reach for Teeny’s hand, linking our fingers together. I look at her, and she smiles at me when I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles.