Chapter Twenty-Six
Trust is a dangerous thing when you have something to lose.
I’m not even speaking about beer pong specifically, but life in general.
Jameson telling me he trusts me may have been an alcohol induced slip-up. Whether he meant it or not, there is no doubt I felt it bearing down on my bones as I attempted my first shot.
Clearly, the pressure is too much because I miss by a mile.
All Jameson says is, “That’s okay,” and continues to watch as Logan sinks his first shot.
“I’ll drink it.” I pick up the cup. Drinking the loss is the only option considering I was the one who missed first.
Jameson tries to pry the solo cup from my hand. “You don’t like beer.” So, he did hear my protest about playing beer pong.
I take the cup back. “You’re already drunk, and you have to be able to make shots since I can’t.”
“Don’t drink it out of the cups, Gen.” Logan interjects, handing me a new beer can. “Just take a swig from this and keep it.” That must be what everyone does because I’ve never seen people refill these solo cups.
I do as he tells me, preferring his suggestion over drinking from what I would consider a community cup. I still grimace at the taste of beer, though.
“It’s your turn, isn’t it?” I ask when I notice Jameson watching me.
He steps up to the table without saying a word and tosses the ping-pong ball in the air, making it splash in the cup.
Of course, he makes it look effortless. I would have rolled my eyes if he weren’t on my time.
“Damn,” Logan sighs, taking a swig of beer from his own can.
The game goes back and forth like this for quite a while until we finally get to the point where both teams only have one cup left.
I’m swaying on my feet, partly out of anxiety, but mostly because I’m tipsy. I lean toward Jameson, who is holding the ping-pong ball, getting ready to shoot what could be the last shot of the game.
“Please make this. I don’t know if I can drink any more beer,” I whisper to him.
He turns and smiles before focusing his attention back on the only cup left.
I watch the muscles on his arm contract as he raises it, letting go right when his arm is at the perfect arch.
The air I was breathing a second ago is lodged in my throat, but I sigh out of relief when the ping-pong ball lands smoothly in the cup, making all the spectators cheer all around us.
The scene stuns me, and when Jameson turns toward me in celebration, all that comes out is, “That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.”
Immediately, my eyes widen as I register what I had said. Oh, my God.
I have never been one to word-vomit. That is more Winnie’s style. I choose to stay calm and calculated. The fact that I said something of that volume without even thinking makes me worry if I’m losing my tact. Either that, or I’m just too tipsy to keep my thoughts to myself.
In a situation like this, Winnie would probably whisper something along the lines of, ‘I’m willing the floor to swallow me whole right now.’
I’ve used the expression before, countless times, but I never fully understood what she meant until now.If the ground were destined to cave in, now would be the perfect time.
Jameson is grinning at my misstep. “Was it now?”
I attempt to regain my composure. “No. I’m not sure why I said that.”
“Your subconscious reveals some pretty lengthy confessions when under the influence,” he informs me, “What’s the saying? Drunk words are sober thoughts.”
I immediately point an accusatory finger at him. “I am not drunk.”
“You’re not helping your case here.” Jameson acts as if he is enlightening me. “If anything, you’re making it seem as if you were fully responsible for what you said—which would suggest you meant it.”
“Pointing out facts is not a crime.” I suddenly feel as if I am digging myself a deeper hole.
“So, instead of blaming your slip-up on the fact that you are intoxicated, you are going to admit that you think me making the winning shot is one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen?”
I take a breath, telling myself Jameson has had much more to drink tonight than I have, and there’s a chance he won”t remember this conversation come morning. I’m hoping I won”t, either.
“My facts are purely subjective,” I reply, hoping to sound unattached from the situation.
“That makes absolutely no sense.” His smile only brightens.“But it’s good to know your unfiltered opinion of me, Genova.”
I roll my eyes at his attempted charm. “I would warn you not to let it go to your head, but I believe it already has.”
“Trust me, a compliment coming from you deserves a spot on my resume under the category ‘Biggest Accomplishments.”
I can’t keep myself from laughing. “That is sad.”
“Well, that will go right under ‘Valedictorian’ come May,” he adds.
“It’s even sadder that your unattainable dreams have clogged your conscience.” I give him a look of faux pity before we laugh. I deduce that it’s probably the alcohol causing us both to feel a bit more giddy in each other’s presence.
The moment is interrupted when my phone rings. I pull it out of my wristlet to see my thirteen-year-old sister is calling me.
“Hey Gwen, what’s up?”
“Hey.” Her voice sounds apprehensive. “Are you busy right now?”
“Why? What’s wrong?” My big sister instinct flips on at any sign of panic.
“We need you to come pick us up.” I hear rustling in the background, leading me to believe she’s not where she is supposed to be.
“Where are you?”
When I left for Winnie’s house earlier today, Gwen was safe and sound at our house with her two best friends, Mae and Gracie.
“I really fucked up, Evie.” My heart drops at the croak in her voice.
I’m shocked at her use of swear words, since Gwen usually isn’t as crude as I am, which means she must really be panicking.
“You aren’t hurt, are you?”
“No, not really.” I know Gwen will not say much over the phone, so I have to trust that she’s smart enough to admit if she’s in real danger.
“You don’t have to explain yet, just tell me where you are, and I’ll come get you.”
“You won’t be mad at me?” Her small voice cracks in fear.
“No,” I tell her strongly. “I’m more concerned about your safety, and if you’re in trouble, I will be there, no questions asked.” Until I find her, at least.
“We’re at the diner,” she confesses quietly. I immediately know what diner she’s talking about.
Taylor’s diner, the one owned by Eloise’s family. It’s one of our school”s most popular hangout spots located right in town. It’s open 24/7, and by this time of night, it’s usually bustling with kids my age.
It’s not the place for a group of thirteen-year-olds to be.
“Okay,” I answer, trying to keep my cool as I give Jameson a look that says, I have to leave. “Are Mae and Gracie with you?”
“Yes, but please don’t bring Logan.” I’m sure that was a suggestion from Mae, Logan’s little sister.
“Okay, I won”t. Stay where you are, I’ll be there soon.”
“Please hurry, Evie.” My baby sister’s voice is filled with desperation.
“I will, I will.” The line goes dead, and without even saying goodbye to Jameson, I take off toward the crowd, finding Eloise and Winnie quickly.
“What happened?” Eloise asks, noticing my frazzled expression.
My phone quickly goes back into my wristlet, and I turn toward Winnie and Eloise. “We need to leave now.”
I’m already rushing toward the front door, no plan in mind with how I’m going to get to the diner. I don’t feel like myself; I feel like a hysteric version of someone taking root in my body.
“Gen, wait!” Winnie calls, following me down the steps of the porch. Eloise is also trailing. “You can’t drive, you’ve been drinking.”
I stop dead in my tracks, realizing she’s right. I was playing beer pong less than twenty minutes ago.
“Have you been drinking?” I ask her.
She was making a drink in the kitchen before I pulled her away, but I’m still hopeful.
“No, my drink was virgin,” she replies.
“I need you to take me to the diner right now.”