Chapter 6
Present Day
It’s nearing ten by the time I’m driving across the city.
I’ve already stopped by the liquor store and now have two six-packs taking up my passenger seat.
Not to mention the fresh pack of Marlboros.
The cashier demanded twenty bucks in exchange for him turning a blind eye to the fact that I’m four years off of twenty-one, but lucky for him, I’m a loyal customer.
And most likely his favorite considering the hefty tips I give.
The party is being thrown by some girl named Lucy who I can’t quite put a face to, and although I’m turning up earlier than I usually do, Kaleb also says that mostly everyone is already there.
I can’t remember the last time I showed up at a party on my own.
At the very least, I always have Tiffani by my side.
But tonight I’ll have to deal with being that fucking moron who only has beer by his side rather than his friends.
It’s almost dark out as I crawl along Stanford Street on the very outskirts of the city until I arrive at the address Kaleb has given me.
There are already several cars parked outside and a couple guys lingering on the porch, cups in their hands and lazy grins on their faces.
I recognize them only vaguely from school.
Their attention shifts to me as I pull up against the sidewalk across the street and kill my engine, and I notice them cocking their heads to the side as they check out my car.
I pretend to ignore it, but their jealous attention is still satisfying; it always will be.
I remove my seatbelt, then roll my window down a couple inches to allow the faint pumping of music to enter my car, then I reach over and yank a bottle of beer from the pack.
Not only have I never turned up at a party this early and alone before, I’ve also never turned up at a party sober.
I’ve dried out from the booze from earlier, and now I’m left dreading the idea of walking through that front door sober.
It’s a whole lot easier to maintain my act in front of a crowd when I’m drunk.
Cracking open the cap with my teeth, I take a single swig of my beer, swallow it back, then chug the remainder of it.
Shoving the bottle into my glove compartment, I sigh and shift my gaze to my reflection in my rearview mirror.
My eyes seem more intense, more of a vibrant green than usual, yet my expression seems too soft for my liking.
I press my lips together, clenching my jaw while narrowing my eyes slightly until my entire expression is sharper, more hardened, and then I grab my keys, my cigarettes, and my beer.
I step out of the car and nudge the door shut behind me. I set the beer down on the hood, shove my keys into my back pocket, and retrieve my lighter instead. I pull a cigarette out of the pack, place it between my lips, then light it.
One of the guys from up on the porch takes a sip of his drink and then calls across the lawn, “Are you here for the party?”
I take a long drag as I study him, allowing the smoke to fill my lungs for several seconds before I exhale, blurring my vision with the plume of smoke that fills the air around me.
“Nah. Here for the view,” I deadpan. What a fucking moron.
Placing the cigarette back between my lips, I grab my beer and head toward the house, cutting across the lawn and over to the porch.
The music grows louder the nearer I get, but it’s still not as loud as it should be, which makes it pretty obvious that the host is a first-timer.
That and the fact that the house doesn’t appear to be packed.
“I didn’t know that you’d be coming,” the guy says when I reach him and his friend on the porch.
Very quickly, he looks me up and down, and when I move my cigarette from my lips again to exhale, he holds his breath.
They both look too young to be here, and I begin to wonder that they might not even be juniors, but maybe sophomores. Yikes.
“Is this your first party?” I ask, my words muffled against my cigarette.
I raise an eyebrow while stepping past them.
The last thing I want to do is stop and end up in a conversation with some dumb-ass sophomores.
I want to get inside and see who’s here.
I want to crack open another beer. I want to hunt down Declan Portwood.
“Yeah,” the guy says.
He exchanges a confused glance with his friend, and I don’t even attempt to hold back my laugh when I reply, “I can tell.”
I push open the front door a crack and immediately the music floods my ears, laced with laughter and the sound of a drink being smashed.
Before I head inside, I turn around and press my back against the front door, smirking as I push it open backward.
“Words of advice?” I offer, as I flick the butt of my cigarette to the ground and step on it.
“Stop standing out here on the porch and get your asses inside.”
Spinning back around, I’m greeted with a party where personal space seems to actually exist for once.
There’s no one that I immediately recognize, besides the familiar faces I’ve seen at parties before, but I know that Kaleb is already here, so I weave my way across the living room in search of him.
I don’t smile at anyone as I pass them, despite the fact that I keep receiving small nods of acknowledgment, and I edge my way through a small group of girls blocking my path into the kitchen.
“Tyler!” Kaleb calls at the exact same second that I spot him perched up on the countertop.
The center island is covered in all sorts of booze, which makes it the most popular spot in the house, and I have to squeeze my way around everyone in order to reach Kaleb.
“You’re finally here, man,” he says, resting his hand on my shoulder once I step in front him.
I can smell not only the beer on him, but the weed too, and his bloodshot gaze scans the kitchen as though he’s missing something. “Where’s Tiffani? Dean? Everyone else?”
“They’ll be here soon,” I say. I nudge his hand off me and slide my beer onto the countertop, pulling a bottle free from the pack and cracking it open. “What about Declan? Is he around tonight?”
Kaleb props his elbow on the coffee machine and just shrugs, but at the same time he gives me a knowing grin.
He’s high as fuck. “Later. What are you game for tonight?” He leans forward again and raises an eyebrow at me, then taps the front pocket of his jeans twice with his index finger.
“You don’t have to wait until Declan gets here,” he murmurs, his voice hushed as the music around us thumps continuously. “I can hook you up.”
I study him intently as I swig at my beer.
Sometimes I wonder how Kaleb even ends up at these parties.
Both he and Declan are college freshmen, but Kaleb has the face of a fourteen year old, so I can understand that perhaps he fits in better at high school parties than he does at the college ones.
As for Declan, he seems to be friends with everyone.
He once told me that having good connections is the first rule in business.
Shaking my head, I take a step back. “I’m alright for now. Let me know when Declan shows up.”
“At least take a shot first,” Kaleb says, grabbing a bottle of vodka from his side that’s almost half empty. The cap is already off, and he slides off the countertop and accusingly points the bottle at me. “Why aren’t you drunk?”
“Maybe because I only had my first drink five minutes ago,” I fire back at him, then snatch the bottle out of his hand.
He has a point. I can’t be seen at a party sober.
That’s not me, so I tilt the bottle against my lips and drink for as long as I can possibly bear the burn of the vodka at the back of my throat, then I pass the bottle back. “I’m gonna go and see who’s all here.”
“Alright,” Kaleb says as he pushes himself back up onto the countertop. He takes a swig too, then lets the bottle hang in his fingertips. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
I decide to turn around and walk away from him before I really do change my mind.
I could seriously do with a hit right now, but I figure I’ll crave it even more as soon as Tiffani turns up.
That’s when I’ll really need it the most, so for now I’ll wait.
I can hold off for another hour, but I need to keep myself distracted, so I head off on a tour of the house to see who exactly is here.
So far, Kaleb is the only person I know, give or take a few people I’ve spoken to only briefly before.
In the kitchen, people are pouring drinks.
In the living room, people are spilling them.
Outside in the backyard, there’s a game of beer pong kicking off among half a dozen guys who are too drunk to stand, let alone aim, so I don’t even bother to join in.
Instead, I come back inside to toss my empty bottle of beer into the trash and to open a new one, and I notice that Kaleb has already disappeared from his reserved spot up on the countertop.
So much for knowing where to find him. The guy couldn’t even last fifteen minutes waiting there.
With a fresh beer in hand, I head off again, this time upstairs.
The house isn’t huge, and neither is the guest list. I’m so bored that I’ve resorted to counting how many people are actually here, and so far, I’ve counted twenty-seven.
No one appears to even be upstairs except the girl throwing up in the bathroom.
“Are you alright?” I ask her, sticking my head around the doorframe. She doesn’t lift her head from the bowl, only raises her hand and gives me a thumbs-up, so I close the door and leave her alone.