by L. D. Davis
“You have asked me that almost every day for years. The same.”
“She’s still a person, Donya,” he said in a lecturing tone as he took the rakes from me. “She should still be inquired after as such.”
I felt a little guilty for thinking of her as any less than a person, but she kind of was in my eyes. She was just a shell really.
I followed Fred around the yard for a little while longer. We didn’t talk about anything of importance. He asked about school, and I told him about my grades and about a big project I had coming up. I didn’t tell him about Jorge. He wasn’t the kind of parent that was okay with his teenage daughters dating, especially older boys.
Hanging out with Fred was always peaceful. He was mild tempered and kind unless given a reason to be otherwise. The fact that he was able to live with Sam for so long was a true testament of his remarkable patience.
Sam, on the other hand, was a loving and nurturing mother; however, she was loud and had no filter between her brain and her mouth. I loved her, but could only handle her in small doses.
I stayed outside with Fred until Sam called us in for dinner. Emmy and I ate quickly before rushing upstairs to get ready for a party we had no business going to. Emmet was on our heels, heading toward his room.
“What are you girls in rush for?” he asked, from his door. He looked at us with suspicion.
“None of your business,” Emmy snapped. “Why are you in such a hurry, jock?”
His eyes narrowed. At me.
“What?” I asked with annoyance.
“I saw you talking to Jorge in the hallway today.”
“What’s it to you?”
“If he invited you to his party, you better have declined,” Emmet said, sounding like a tough guy.
I mocked him, using a very proper accent. “If he invited you to his party, you better have declined.”
Emmy and I laughed, and then we squealed when Emmet rushed at us. We jumped back into Em’s room and tried to shut the door, but Emmet held it open with his body weight.
“Get off of the door, you freak!” Emmy yelled.
“I better not see either one of you there!” he yelled. “It’s not a place for little girls!”
Emmy and I looked at each other and with unspoken knowledge of what needed to be done, we both jumped back and away from the door. It flew open, and Emmet fell on the floor. We laughed again, but then he was up, chasing us around Emmy’s room. He was very mad, but I found it really funny, even as I ran away screaming. Emmy ran into her bathroom and slammed the door, leaving me to my own devices. Some friend.
I held my hands up in defeat, breathing a little hard from running and screaming. “Okay, I’m done running.”
When he advanced on me anyhow, I dashed away and jumped onto Emmy’s bed. I jumped off of the other side, intent on running into the hall and into one of the other bedrooms, but I was only a couple of feet into the hallway when Emmet’s arms wrapped around my waist. My breath left my body too fast, and I suddenly felt light headed. I stopped struggling against him and tried to relax long enough to start breathing again. His breath was hot on my ear, and it made me feel uneasy and…well…thrilled.
“Jorge is not a good guy,” he whispered in my ear. “I don’t want to see you at that party tonight. I mean it.”
Then he was gone. I heard his bedroom door close, and I was left alone in the hallway, breathless and tingling.
*~*~*
Like Emmet Grayne was the boss of me.
Emmy and I waited until he was gone before we lied to the parents about where we were going and casually walked out the door. Jorge’s house was on the other side of town. There was no way we were going to walk there, but lucky for us Emmy was a big flirt and flirted her way into a ride from a junior guy. She sat up front with Reed, and I sat in the back with another junior guy whose name I didn’t know and didn’t care to learn. He was a dick. Fortunately, the ride was a short one.
“What are we going to do if Emmet sees us?” Emmy asked, biting her lip as we walked arm in arm toward the house.
“If, Em?” I gave her look. “Seriously? Jorge’s house isn’t even half the size of yours. Of course, we’re going to run into Emmet. I don’t know what we’re going to do. I don’t think he will cause a scene.”
We walked into the house, and I think we were both a little startled by the amount of people that were stuffed into the house. It must have been bursting at the seams. There were clouds of smoke, some from cigarettes, and some from not cigarettes. The music was thunderous and in every direction we looked in, people were drinking, dancing, or making out, or all three all at once.
“I guess we’re done with the little princess parties,” Emmy said in my ear.
“I don’t know about you,” I grinned. “But I’m still a princess.”
She grinned back at me, and together we moved deep into the party.
Jorge found me a little while later. He was already quite buzzed, but still held a red cup full of liquid in each hand. He offered one to me, but I had seen enough talk shows to know that guys slipped things into girls’ drinks. He wasn’t Special K-ing me. I took the drink anyway, though, and pretended to sip it while we shouted to each other over the noise. I looked around for Emmy. We had promised to stay within eyesight of each other. After a moment, I saw the top of her head as she danced with Reed, red plastic cup in hand. I hoped she didn’t drink from it.
I thought about looking around for Emmet too, just to watch my back, but then again, I didn’t want to see him. He had freaked me out earlier with the heavy breathing in my ear. It did things to me I wasn’t yet old enough to acknowledge. So, I told myself I wasn’t going to look for him. I wouldn’t look.
I turned away from Jorge once more and looked off to my right. Through the sea of people, I met Emmet’s green eyes.
Shit.
How, through all of those people, did my eyes go right to his? I stared at him dubiously, but then quickly turned away when his eyes narrowed.
Thank goodness Jorge was leading me in the opposite direction. I put my cup down on a table as we went, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He led me into the kitchen. It was still pretty crowded in there, but not as bad as the other rooms. Jorge looked at my empty hand and frowned.
“I thought I gave you a drink,” he said, thinking about it so hard that it was rather comical.
I shrugged and grinned. He grinned back.
“That’s okay,” he said dismissively. “We can do some shots.”
I looked through the open kitchen doorway for Emmy. I didn’t see her. I was a little worried, but not that worried. What was the worst that could happen with her brother only a few feet away from her? I almost laughed out loud, because Emmet was definitely the worst thing that could happen to her.
Jorge poured four shots out of a big red, square bottle I watched him open. I knew the bottle was new, so I didn’t worry about being tranquilized. He handed me a shot and clinked his glass with mine.
“What is it?” I asked, looking at the red liquid.
“Aftershock,” he grinned. “It tastes like Big Red gum with a kick.”
I shrugged. I liked Big Red. I took the shot.
“Holy fuck!” I yelled a moment later as I felt the stuff burning down my throat.
Jorge laughed and handed me the second shot. I had just had my very first shot, and he was already handing me another. I had sips of wine before, and Emmy and I shared a beer once over the summer, but I had never done anything hard. One shot was going to impair me. Two shots were going to knock me on my bony ass.
“You’re really pretty,” Jorge said in my ear as I contemplated the shot.
He took his shot and looked at me expectantly. Damn, he was really cute.
I swallowed the next shot.
Four more shots later, Emmet finally caught up with me. He had Emmy—who looked as fucked up as I felt—by the arm.
“Let’s go,” he said angrily. “Now.”
Jorge’s
arm was around me. He held me a little bit closer, throwing us both off balance. We giggled as we tried to find our footing.
“She’s fine where she is, Grayne,” Jorge said coolly to Emmet.
“She doesn’t look fine,” he snapped and then beckoned me with a wave of his hand. “Let’s go, Donya.”
Jorge looked down at me, got nose to nose with me. I could feel his hot breath on my lips. “You don’t have to go anywhere with him. He’s not your daddy. He’s nothing.”
I laughed hysterically. Jorge laughed with me though neither of us knew what we were really laughing at.
“He’s my brother,” I managed through my laughter.
Jorge laughed harder. It was funny. It was freakin’ hilarious.
“I’m not your brother,” Emmet bit out.
My laughter died. Even in my intoxicated and numb state, that kind of hurt. Emmet had always been my brother, but he was being mean and saying he wasn’t. Was he embarrassed? Was it because I was black and he was white?
I frowned and pressed myself closer to Jorge.
“You’re right,” I said. “You’re not my brother. You’re nothing.”
That seemed to really please Jorge. He grabbed my face a little too roughly, pulling my eyes away from Emmet’s flaming green orbs, and put his wet, alcohol stained lips against mine. But it didn’t even last a full two seconds before his head was knocked sideways. I stumbled backward, watching Jorge’s mouth bleed. I looked at Emmet with my mouth gaping open. He had hit Jorge!
Jorge was drunk, but he was still a badass. He stood up straight and glared at Emmet. His hands curled into fists. He drew his arm back and threw a hard punch at Emmet, but since Emmet wasn’t inebriated, he was able to duck out of the way. Unfortunately, the guy behind him wasn’t so lucky, and he was the one that got hit.
Emmet latched onto my arm and yanked me away just as a brawl broke out. I followed without resistance, stumbling along the way. Emmy wasn’t moving any better than I was.
The louder the fight got in the kitchen, the more people pushed at us in their effort to join in the melee or watch it. Emmy fell once. I tried to help her up with my one arm, but I was just as fucked up as she was and almost went down with her.
I was alarmed. I thought she was going to get trampled there on the floor, but then big arms were around her waist, lifting her off of the floor. Tabitha’s big brother Tack threw his cousin over his shoulder and before I could understand what was happening, Emmet had done the same to me. The guys didn’t put us down until we were at Emmet’s car.
“What part of don’t go to the party didn’t you understand!” he shouted at us as he unlocked the car.
“The ‘don’t go’ part,” I snickered. Adrenaline raced through my body, but I was still very much drunk. Emmet glared at me so hard, I stopped laughing.
“The ‘party’ part?” Emmy asked from the other side of the car. We both began to snicker.
“Your mom is going to kill you,” Tack said to Emmet.
“I didn’t bring them here!”
He pulled open the back door of his car and pointed angrily for me to get in. Tack was a little nicer to Emmy and helped her in. I wanted Tack on my side of the car.
“Get in the damn car, Donya,” Emmet growled.
“Fu-uck you,” I said, swaying, but I got into the car.
Emmet slammed the door shut. He stood outside for a moment, running his hands through his hair and trying to make the steam stop coming out of his ears. I giggled as I imagined literal steam coming out of his head.
When he got in the car, his hair was all messed up.
“Your hair is a mess, pretty boy,” I teased.
He glared at me through the rearview mirror but said nothing.
“You can’t take them home,” Tack said to Emmet. “It’s not that late. Your parents are probably still up.”
Emmet looked at the time on the dashboard. It was a little after ten. He looked in the rearview mirror again, not at me but something behind me. His eyes widened with fear.
“We’ll figure it out along the way,” he said, quickly turning the car on and putting it in gear. “The cops are coming.”
He peeled out of his parking space and took off down the road. Emmy and I looked behind us at the approaching cruisers halting in front of Jorge’s house. Fortunately, none of them came after us.
We drove around for a few minutes. The guys tried to come up with some way of getting us home without Sam and Fred sniffing us out. Emmy and I giggled and laughed and shrieked about things I can’t even remember. Emmet often yelled at us to shut up and we just as often ignored him. Finally, he had an idea. He parked at a 7-Eleven and got out to use the payphone.
“I’m thirsty,” I said, running my finger over my dry tongue. I pulled the lock up on my door and practically fell out onto the pavement. I held onto the door laughing hysterically until I felt Tack picking me up.
“Get back in the car,” he said with a little more patience than Emmet had had all night.
“I’m thirsty,” I whined.
“Me too,” Emmy said from the front of the car.
She had gotten out without my notice. Apparently without Tack’s too, because he said, “How the fuck did you get there so fast?”
Emmy stuck out her tongue and walked into the store. Tack leaned me up against the car and looked back at Emmet, who was still on the phone talking. Emmet looked into the store at his sister with more steam pouring out of his ears.
“I’m thirsty,” I whined again as I watched Emmy stumbling around inside the store. She was trying to get a Super Big Gulp and failing miserably. Emmet finally hung up the phone and rushed into the store to get her. Tack pushed me back into the car and shut the door. He leaned against it so that I couldn’t get out; like I couldn’t just climb to the other side.
“Hey,” I said, smacking a hand against the glass. “Tack!”
He looked at me expectantly.
“Emmet stole my first kiss!”
“What?”
“Emmet stole my first kiss!”
He looked confused. I motioned for him to open the door. He opened the door and leaned over.
“Emmet stole my first kiss,” I said once more.
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re drunk.”
“No, listen, listen, listen,” I said, waving a hand and swaying in my seat. “Jorge was about to kiss me. His lips were on my lips, and Emmet punched him. Gave him a bloody mouth. I didn’t want to kiss a bloody mouth, but then it didn’t’ matter because Emmet got all caveman on me and dragged me out of the party.”
“Uh,” Tack said and scratched his head. “Isn’t Jorge a little old for you? I mean, you’re Tabby’s age.”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re all about the same age,” I said. “You’re not that much older than me. I’ll be fifteen in days. We’re all still in high school. It’s no big deal that he’s a little bit older. What I’m trying to say is you can kiss me instead and make up for my lost kiss.”
Tack looked very uncomfortable. He backed away from me slowly, as if he expected me to kiss-attack him, and closed the door.
“Aww,” I whined and rested my head against the cool glass.
After some more random driving around, we drove back to Emmy’s house. The guys helped us get into the house and up the stairs. Emmet’s hand clamped over my mouth so many times, I started to like the taste of his skin. I licked his hand just to be bratty and then giggled at the faces he made.
“I’m taking Tack home,” Emmet whispered after depositing us in Emmy’s room. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t. Leave. This. Room.”
“Whatever, kiss ruiner,” I yawned.
After one more warning, the guys left. Emmy and I had lain on her bed giggling and talking about nonsense for a little while.
“I feel sick,” she said after we settled down.
“I think I’m going to hurl,” I said and clumsily rolled out of the bed. I stumbled over my own feet and fell to the floo
r a few feet away from the bathroom. I crawled the rest of the way and made it to the toilet just in time. I puked Aftershock and meatloaf and mashed potatoes and string beans until I thought my head would cave in.
With much effort, I pulled myself to my feet and grabbed the toothbrush I kept at Emmy’s. I brushed and rinsed and brushed and rinsed until I could only taste the mouthwash and toothpaste. My head was beginning to pound, and everything seemed off kilter. I slowly sloshed into the bedroom and found that Emmy was out cold and stretched diagonally across the bed, leaving no room for me. I tried to wake her, but she just groaned.
I felt like crap. My head felt like it was going to explode and my stomach was still churning even though there was nothing left to puke up. My face was a little sweaty, but I was shivering uncontrollably. I thought I was dying. If that was what it was like to be drunk, I vowed to never drink again.
I stumbled into the hallway and closed Emmy’s door as quietly as possible behind me. It was still a slam to my sensitive head. I put my hands on my head and dropped to my knees. I was going to sleep in Lucy’s old room, but I wasn’t going to make it. It was all the way down the hall, and even though it was seriously only a few feet, it looked like a few miles.
I lay down in the middle of the hallway floor and waited to die.
*~*~*
“Hey,” Emmet’s voice was close to me.
I forced my eyes to flutter open and found him kneeling beside me.
“What are you doing on the floor out here?” he whispered. “I told you to stay in the bedroom.”
“I puked,” I murmured and rubbed a hand over my aching head. “When I came out of the bathroom, Emmy was sleeping funny on the bed. There wasn’t any room for me.”
“So, you were going to just sleep on the hallway floor?”
“No, dumbass,” I growled. It hurt my head. “I want to go into Lucille’s room.”
“Unbelievable,” he said under his breath. Then his arms were under me, and he was carrying me down the hall.
It was only a short trip, but I curled up close to him anyway. I was freezing, and he was warm even though he had just come out of the cold. As he pushed open the door to Lucille’s room, he gazed down at me with frustration, anger, and something else I couldn’t put my finger on.
