by Hazel Grace
“What if I didn’t know how to swim?” I counter, dog paddling back to the small rowboat.
Ethan shrugs, his lanky body covered in a large white T-shirt. “One of us would’ve saved you.”
Liam holds out his hand to help me pull myself out of the water. “Then we would’ve felt bad.” I clasp his hand, and he pulls me out, my clothes clinging to my body.
I feel Ethan’s eyes on me, sizing me up more than likely, and I feel myself blush on his examination.
He’s a teenage guy, they're programmed to visualize everything, but then he hits me with his next words, and my eyes almost pop out of my head.
“How are you out here with us, hiding away from stupid bitches when your body looks like something I jack off to?”
Taylor smacks him along the back of his head, his hair ruffled from her hand. “Don’t talk about my best friend like that.” She looks over at me. “You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I push wet hair away from my forehead and sit on the plank of wood serving as a seat. “But Liam isn’t going to be.” With my foot, I push him over the side of the boat by his butt, making the whole thing rock in response.
He goes over with a large splash that hits all three of us on the boat. Taylor and I laugh, while Ethan tries to push her overboard but doesn’t succeed. We end up tag teaming him and get him over the boat as well.
After a few more splashes overboard by the boys and vice versa, Taylor calls a truce.
“Your ma wanted us back up at the house by seven,” she states, climbing back into the boat and struggling to swing her leg over the side.
“She knows we don’t wear watches,” Ethan retorts with a scoff, yanking her up.
I lean back, listening to their back and forth while floating along the surface of the water, enjoying the coolness. My body is warm and fuzzy due to the amount of alcohol I consumed today. The stress in my life along with the sweltering heat made me drink more than I should’ve.
“Hey, Little Mermaid,” Liam calls out. “Let’s get you dried up so you can become a human again.” I let out a silent sigh before before making my way back to the boat.
When aboard, Liam and Ethan row us the short distance back to shore. The evening rays of the sun are still hot, drying some of our clothes before jumping into Ethan’s black Town Car after we say goodbye to Aunt Sherry.
I needed this, so much.
A relaxing day with really mellowed-out people and my best friend. Ethan and Liam are just normal dudes; funny, stupid, and nice. They are the textbook definition of “country boy,” hospitable, cute, and a little reckless.
I’ve been stressed all week, harping on the glowers and stink eyes from all the girls at Freemont High. Boys I’ve never spoken to have been approaching me at my locker and outside of classes trying to talk to me because, apparently, I’m “open season to date.”
I was cornered a few days ago in the girls’ bathroom while a group of chicks taunted me and said I was a slut that Gavin just threw away. It led me to believe that he was still spinning the truth and no one was going to believe that I wasn’t the bad guy in this scenario.
Again, didn’t matter at this point.
What matters is my sanity, happiness, and the fact that I feel amazing right now, thanks to the special “punch.”
Taylor and Ethan start fighting over the car radio in the front seat, flipping back and forth from Taylor’s song of choice “Everybody” by the Backstreet Boys and Ethan’s “Cold” by Crossfade.
“Come on, dude,” Ethan complains, turning back on his station. “I’m not listening to that boy band shit.”
Taylor flips it back. “You should be just focusing on driving, not what’s on the radio.”
“You can sit in the back seat.”
“And you can shut up.”
“And y’all can walk,” Liam chimes in next to me in the backseat. “If you don’t stop bitching.”
Taylor turns her whole body to the side to face us and smiles. “Aww...but you love me.” Liam peers up from his cell phone and fixes her with an emotionless stare.
“And you’re drunk.”
Her smile widens. “And less of a bitch when I am.” I chuckle, and Liam elbows me lightly.
“Don’t encourage, little one.”
“Well, y’all were handing those cold beverages to us,” I retort with a shrug. “And they were delicious.”
“I thought you’d be able to handle them,” he replies, back to tapping away at his phone.
“Who are you texting?” Taylor sing-songs, resting her chin on top of the bench seat. “It better not be that whore.”
“Nah,” Ethan dismisses from behind the wheel. “He doesn’t talk to Yvette anymore.”
“Why, what was wrong with her?” I ask because the liquor coursing through my body is nosey as hell.
It doesn’t surprise me that Liam sleeps around. Who the heck am I to judge him when I know how it feels to be condemned? His clean-cut hair makes him look as though he’s easygoing and playful, but from how he’s acting now, somewhat responsible?
“She likes a lot of dick,” Ethan laughs, answering my question. Taylor smacks his arm, which makes him laugh harder.
“Hey, we need to make a stop when we drop the girls off,” Liam conveys, turning the screen of his phone off.
“For what?”
He looks out the window at the two-lane road we’re driving down. “I gotta drop something off.”
Taylor looks at me straight on. “He means weed.”
“Dude,” Liam snaps. I peer over at him giving Taylor a dirty look.
I don’t know why he acts like no one smokes around here or that it's a cardinal sin. I swear even the teachers at Freemont High, I think, do it. Miss Henderson’s eyes look bloodshot after her “bathroom breaks” all the time.
“Who cares,” I snort, sinking deeper into my seat. My head feels fuzzy, but my brain is calm for once. All I can feel is the warm breeze sweeping through the windows and notice that Ethan must've won the war on the radio because “Let It Bleed” by The Used is now playing on the alternative/punk radio station as I feel the heavy weight of Liam’s eyes fall on me.
“Because you don’t need to be around that shit,” he retorts.
“But you have it on you?” Taylor presses over her shoulder. Liam’s scowl falls right back on her again. “We want to go.”
“Hell no,” Ethan gripes. “Y’all are too young.”
“Are you dropping it off at a strip club?” Taylor asks, her eyes widening in excitement.
“No.” Both Liam and Ethan roar in unison.
Taylor looks back at her older cousin. “Then where?”
“A college party at a buddy’s house,” Liam deadpans. “Now, shut up, you’re not going.”
“I wanna go,” I voice, not opting into going home and sit in my room alone.
It’s a Saturday night, everyone is probably out doing whatever, and I don’t want to pine at home over a breakup. Yeah, it sucks, I liked Gavin.
Now, I hate Gavin.
So, why sit at home, listening to Mom attempt to pry into my love life and hearing Dad tell her to leave me alone like it’s been all week? Nope. Not tonight.
“We’ll only be five minutes,” Ethan voices, looking at his brother in the rear view mirror. “And it’s on the way.”
“I don’t want to have to babysit two drunk girls at a—”
“We’re not drunk,” Taylor chides.
“Yeah, okay…” Liam drones, shaking his head.
“C’mon, man,” Ethan says. “In and out.” Taylor fixes her eyes on me for a moment and winks.
We’re going in.
—
The music is so loud, I’ll be deaf tomorrow morning. “Feel So Good” by Mase reverberates off a set or dozen speakers somewhere in the white brick ranch house that we parked in front of.
The bass thunders right off my chest as Taylor and I make our way inside after making a break from Ethan’s car and up th
e front yard. Cars line up and down the dirt road, red cups and toilet paper litter the grass as Liam’s voice fades out, yelling at us to get our asses back in the car.
Since we’re going to get an earful about it later, might as well make the best of it.
The front door is wide open, packed with people inside dancing in a blob of movements and barely clothed. Girls are in bras while guys are shirtless, shamelessly walking around and grinding on each other.
This was not a high school party, and I’m excited for some weird reason to be here.
It could be the simple fact that no one here knows me or that I’m not in Freemont that makes me happy. A temporary Band-Aid to the anxiety and stress I’ve been feeling from the same monotonous play of events that have been happening. I feel like my life is on a record player, spinning over and over again with the same song performing.
Taylor clasps my hand, directing us through the crowd. With the amount of liquor in my body, I immediately start moving to the beat of the song. People move out of the way for us to stride deeper into the front room, careful not to spill their drinks as they continue to talk and dance. A few guys stare at us, but good luck trying to talk to me.
I’ll facepalm someone.
Taylor gives me a small yank on my hand, and I turn around to see Ethan creeping up on us, dancing like he never has before in his life. His body is lowered as he bobs his head to the beat with a goofy smile plastered on his face.
He’s the silly one of the two brothers, probably because he’s younger, and figured since we were here, we might as well have some fun. Liam is nowhere to be seen in the throng of people, more than likely delivering his drugs to whomever, and will be rushing us out the door in a few minutes.
Normally, I’d probably be on edge sitting in the car with a bag of weed, paranoid that we’re going to get pulled over by the cops, who aren’t ever around. My mind will make a scenario out of nothing these days.
Ethan hip bumps me and does a wacky shake to his upper body. I bust out in laughter to his dorky moves, and Taylor starts singing the song out loud, not caring that she sounds like a drowning cat.
Tonight is mine to have fun. To experience life outside the stuffy town of Freemont with people that don’t care who’s watching.
To be the newly invented Sawyer Boyd.
To forget that Gavin and Colson even exist in my life.
Ten years ago
I came to crash this party with a few buddies from baseball to get a feel of my future and what to expect at a college party when I land a scholarship with a free ride out of Freemont.
Women sashay around in lace bras, stealing playful glances at us under their eyelashes. I’ve already lost two buddies to two brunettes, who are more than likely fucking in a dark room somewhere.
Me, on the other hand, I’m good. Pussy isn’t on the menu tonight, and all I want to do is get high, drink, and forget.
Forget that Sawyer has been ignoring me. That she has some little tiff about not speaking to me at school and getting her fucking seat moved again because she’s having a hard time with her break-up with Gavin I’m assuming.
She might as well have asked Mr. B to plant her ass on Mars for as far away she wants from me. All I wanted to do was help the afternoon I found her in the boys’ locker room. Now, I’m the epidemic that she’s steering clear from.
But like everything I try to do, it gets sabotaged because what I didn’t come here for, was to see Sawyer Boyd lookalike shaking her ass next to some fucking guy in a…wrinkled shirt?
I narrow my eyes to make sure they aren’t fucking with me. The brand of weed I got this time around was good, but normally, I don’t hallucinate with people who aren’t really there.
The more my eyes constrict, the more I see red hair matted down on her body like she just ran through some lawn sprinklers. Her light blue shirt looks damp, which would explain why it’s sticking to her body.
A body that is currently clutching the hips of a girl in front of her and mercilessly giving the guy behind her a perfect view of her ass as she shakes and twirls it seductively around.
Her face is averted from me but the red hair...yeah, I’ve stared at it long enough to know who it belonged to.
I think.
“What’s Your Fantasy” by Ludacris begins to play, which makes the girl in front of her start jumping up and down in a frenzy. Her dark hair sways side to side, and then I stop on my next exhale.
It’s fucking Taylor.
And the girl who is dancing, no, practically lap dancing the air is none other than the girl who hasn’t spoken to me since I made her promise to let me take her home and she ran.
I clench my hands into fists. What the fuck is she doing here? I texted her earlier, with no answer, and now she’s at a frat party that was invitation only. Not that it stopped me from coming but still.
I’m about to take a step forward but a tall, blond-headed guy towers over her wearing a scowl.Yeah, we probably fucking match. Last time I checked, I wasn’t the motherfucker who cheated on her. So, this ignoring game that she’s participating in is starting to grate on my last fucking nerve. Plus, she’s here, at a party she shouldn’t be at because we all know she doesn’t make the best life decisions.
Shit, I don’t either.
Ever since she came into town, I don’t think or act the same. My hard ass “I don’t give a fuck” attitude blew out the window the day I heard Gavin asked her out on a date.
Everything since then has been me planning, destroying, and wanting things I had no right fucking needing in the first place.
I watch as Sawyer notices the new guy at her side right away, straightening her back and latching on to his forearm to pull him closer. He follows, shaking his head as she bounces up and down like an excited little child.
She looks like a sexy mess, her actions relaxed and carefree around a dude I’ve never seen before in my life. Ideas run through my mind on where and how she knows him. Where did she know him? Have they done anything other than her grabbing his arm so he’ll dance with her?
This girl right here, I might be looking at her doppleganger because this isn’t the Sawyer Boyd I’ve seen and desired every day for the last few months.
I watch the side of the dude’s lips slowly quirk as she whirls around his arm, to where I can see all of her.
Her.
The girl who’s been making herself scarce at school and throws a football field in between us at practice. The minx who’s hired the whole damn softball team as her bodyguards because every time I’ve attempted to talk to her, one of them steps in my way and starts rattling on about some stupid shit to distract me.
I’m passed irate.
I’m riled up, self-conscious, a fucking mess because I just wanted to make sure she wasn’t wasting her time on Gavin when he’s fucking half the cheerleading team, probably right at this moment.
At first, I didn’t want to overcrowd her. I mean, girls grieve and shit after a breakup, right? All I wanted to do was, well, be supportive, I guess. I wasn’t looking to jump her pussy the first moment I saw her because I know that Sawyer needs some time to breathe. Not showing up at a college party with two fucking guys who definitely weren’t in our high school, or even town, for that matter.
I’m starting to believe I underestimated her. The naive, mild-mannered redhead that got good grades and turned crimson everytime my eyes would lower past her face. I know that there was another layer underneath her facade, but it seemed to have already transformed into someone I didn’t recognize anymore.
Maybe she’s having a midlife teenage crisis and rebelling after this Gavin shit.
I blink, hoping that she’s going to evaporate, but she doesn’t of course. I know this fucking girl, I’ve studied her more than baseball videos or a final exam combined in my life. I could draw her blindly, knowing every shade of her eyes and each freckle that dots her face. I’ve memorized her legs, where her shorts always stop on them and how thick and luscious her ha
ir is.
But now…now, I’m not so sure.
The simple fact that she’s here is a red flag. The ugly truth is that I’ve been dismissed by a guy who looks like he tips cows and works on a farm while singing country songs.
The part that is pissing me off the most is that I don’t know who this guy is and what he is to her. They look friendly together. Too fucking friendly for me not to want to slam my fist into his face and scream at her that this is all a load of bullshit.
Doesn’t she fucking realize that I don’t chase girls? Even thinking about her as much as I do is ridiculous.
I’m putting way too much effort into this.
But it doesn’t erase or cease any perception that she’s holding his hand and bopping around this dude like she did with me at Ben’s party a few months ago. When I told her that the next time she was at a party, that it’d be with me on my fucking arm.
It’s a sharp slap to my face. Coming to me so quickly that I almost stagger back at the meaning of everything that is happening.
She’s comfortable with everyone but me.
For a while, it was flattering. I thought I had her all hot and bothered, not able to stand being so close to me. Like how I felt toward her but without wanting to rip my clothes off with her teeth. However, the more time that goes on and the last few times she’s yelled at me to leave her alone, I’m starting to believe that it’s not a case of her being on the defense.
It’s that she’s fucking serious.
She just ended things with Gavin a week ago, I thought she’d be at home, maybe writing in her diary or scribbling out Gavin’s face on any pictures they may have taken together.
But not here.
Not at a party, with her hair all fucked up and...
She suddenly stumbles, giggling uncontrollably, while the tall asshole holds her still like she’s...drunk.
What. The. Fuck.
I stay sewn to my spot next to one of the couches in the family room, fully camouflaged within the throng of people. I watch her twirl herself around his long arms as he pulls her into his chest, and they start swaying from side to side.
