Chapter 35
Thirty-Five
C ooper
Chandler is sitting at the table with a row of shot glasses. People I don’t recognize surround him, chanting for him to, “Drink! Drink! Drink!” I feel like I’ve walked into an unsanctioned frat-house basement party seconds before the cops are going to bust it up.
“What are you doing?” Sybil practically pounces on the group, pushing past drunk girls tottering on heels to get to her brother. I’m right behind her. “Where the hell is Ethan?” she practically screams.
Good fucking point.
“He went to the bathroom,” Chandler says, slurring his words. He’s clearly had too much, and my heart jumps to my throat when he starts to sway.
“We’re leaving,” Sybil says, trying to help her brother from his seat, but as soon as he stands, his knees buckle.
“I’m drunk!” he cheers, pumping his fists in the air. Most of the crowd cheer along with him. From the empty shot glasses littering the table, it’s safe to say Chandler is more than drunk. He’s plastered.
“Shit,” I mutter. He might get alcohol poisoning from this. “How much can someone like Chandler drink?” I ask Sybil, feeling like an ignorant ass for not knowing.
“Unless there’s an underlying liver issue, people with Downs can metabolize it the same as you and me,” she says, while on the verge of tears. “But… but…”
But she’s not sure how much he’ll be able to handle emotionally.
I help Chandler to his feet, patting him on the back. “You okay?”
“He’s having fun,” some random girl says with a shrill laugh.
“That’s enough,” I yell at the crowd, unable to hold down my anger. They don’t know Chandler except that he’s visibly disabled. He’s a human being, not some joke for their entertainment.
“Hey, give the kid a break. He asked for shots, so we ordered him shots.” The same girl snorts, sounding like a smug bitch. “It’s his birthday.” She pats Chandler on the head as if he were a puppy. “Happy birthday, little guy.”
Sybil shoves the girl’s hand away, and I see red.
“He’s not your fucking little guy,” I hiss.
The girl’s face pales, and her eyes widen. “I mean, we didn’t pay for the shots. They did.” She points to two older men hanging on the outskirts of the crowd. They look like the kind of creepy leaches that come to places like these with a fat wallet, hoping to pick up drunk women.
I stalk right up to them, getting in their faces. “You ordered a flight of shots for a Downs kid and cheered him on to binge drink?”
The men smirk, and the fucker with a bald spot and a red face responds. “What’s it to you?”
“That’s my little brother, you fucker.”
Not technically , but close enough.
Baldy chuckles, and his loser of a friend steps in closer. Two against one, but I’m not afraid in the slightest.
“You want to fight us for getting the retard drinks?” He laughs, the scent of alcohol heavy on his breath. “The kid asked for them. I’m not a bad guy; I’m a Good Samaritan.”
Rage bursts inside me like an inferno, exploding through my fist, connecting with his face. He falls to the ground, and I’m on him in seconds. “I’ll fucking kill you for calling him that, you motherfucker!”
I beat the shit out of this guy, barely aware of my surroundings. Sybil is crying. Chandler is in his chair. The guy’s pudgy friend is unsuccessfully trying to haul me off him. And this mother fucker deserves to have his face rearranged.
They land a few punches on me, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.
The pain doesn’t even register. It’s only when the bouncer hauls me off his ass that the fighting actually stops, and the two men scurry away like rats.
Ethan’s returned, and he’s got Chandler, practically holding him up since he’s so wasted.
Tears stream down Sybil’s red face, and the entire scene goes from loud and hot to cold and quiet.
The crowd disperses.
“You’re out of here,” the bouncer says, hauling my ass out of the club and depositing me on the curb. “You’re lucky I don’t call the police, but I heard what that guy said. I let you get in a few good punches, but I still have to do my job.”
“Yeah, no problem.” I salute him, spitting out a mouthful of blood onto the pavement as I stand. The bouncer leaves, and Ethan and Sybil find me, Chandler slumped between them.
“What did the bouncer say?” Sybil asks.
I shake my head and keep my mouth shut. Even though Chandler won’t remember this in the morning, I don’t want him to know.
“Where were you?” I turn on my brother instead, fighting the rage churning in my chest. “We leave you alone with Chandler for five minutes, and suddenly he’s downing shots?”
Ethan’s face is pale, and I already feel bad for putting this on him.
“I had to pee,” Ethan says in a strained whisper, sounding absolutely gutted. “me,I should’ve taken him with me, but we didn’t want to lose our table. I’m an idiot.” He turns to Chandler. “I’m so sorry.”
Chandler can’t even answer; he’s that drunk.
Sybil’s tears have stopped, but the tracks of mascara across her face make me want to punch someone all over again.
“I want to know what that guy said,” she tries again. She’s really not the type to let this go.
I sigh. “Let’s get Chandler to the car first.”
Chandler’s head is lolling. Five minutes and he’ll be asleep, but if he has alcohol poisoning, he needs to get to a hospital. The thing is, we don’t know how much he had to drink. Three beers and who knows how many shots…
Shots someone else supplied and could have been tampered with.
“We should take him to the hospital,” I say.
Sybil stiffens. “I’ll handle it. Let’s get him in the backseat.”
A few minutes later, he’s buckled in Sybil’s car. Ethan slides into the backseat with him, trying to keep him awake.
Sybil and I step away from the vehicle so I can quickly relay what happened. Maybe I’m an idiot for expecting her to thank me for standing up for her brother, but she doesn’t look too happy.
She pinches the bridge of her nose and growls. “I think getting into a fight only made it worse. I hope Chandler doesn’t remember this tomorrow.”
“Are you serious? You think I overreacted?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know, but getting in a fight wasn’t a good for anyone.”
“And I’m supposed to let some guy call him a slur and do nothing?”
Bottom lip trembling, she frowns. “I took him out to have fun, and he didn’t. That’s what I know. Now I have to call my parents to meet us at the hospital. Sorry, but this never would’ve happened if you two hadn’t shown up.”
“You think this is our fault?” I glare, utterly shocked she’s blaming us. Sure, Ethan fucked up by going to the bathroom, but we were all there to watch Chandler.
“It certainly never would’ve happened if you and I didn’t leave the table to go off and argue about stupid shit.” She runs a hand through her hair. “I don’t have time for this. I’ve got to go.”
“Fine, but don’t blame any of this on me, Ethan, or yourself.”
She circles her index finger between us. “I absolutely blame this. Us. You and me. Me and Ethan. You and Ethan. We’re all toxic together.”
That word feels worse than any punch those guys landed on me. “Toxic?”
“Yes.” She sounds so worn out. Defeated. Heartbroken. “We can’t be friends anymore, Cooper. We can’t be anything. There’s too much bad blood between our families, and quite frankly, you’re not a good influence on me.”
I step away as if she slapped me. “You really mean this, don’t you?”
“I’m sorry, Cooper. Tonight can’t happen again. We can’t pretend to be friends when we’re not friends anymore. We’re not anything.”
I stare, letting her words sink in deep. Maybe I can accept them.
Her eyes water. “Goodbye, Cooper. Take care of yourself.”
She turns her back on me, but I can’t let her walk away. I catch her wrist and twist her around to face me, gathering her against my chest in a tight hug. She lets out a squeak but doesn’t pull away. The heat between us is an electrical storm, making me feel alive in the worst way.
Alive and terrified.
“You’re going to pretend we’re nothing?”
She shakes her head, hissing between her teeth and keeping her voice low.
We’re both well aware Ethan and Chandler are in the car a few paces away.
“Don’t you see? This a problem. I was engaged to your twin brother.
Our parents had an affair. Our families broke apart. It’s over, Cooper. Please, let me go.”
I can’t believe I’m really losing her.
I lost her months ago, but I couldn’t believe it then, and I told myself she would come to her senses, and that no matter what, I would never let something ruin our friendship for good.
But here she is, practically pleading with me to leave her alone.
She’s done. It’s over.
I release her from my arms and my mind and my heart. For the first time in our lives, I’m the one to turn my back and walk away.