by Tijan
“Channing’s coming tomorrow night.”
“I know.”
I frowned at his wry tone. “You know something I don’t?”
“Nope.”
My frown deepened. His response was quick—too quick—and he moved a little so he wasn’t facing me anymore. “Out with it,” I said. “Now.”
“Sam.”
“Now.”
He sighed, rolling his eyes. “You’re a pain in the ass.”
“I’m your stepsister, and future sister-in-law, so you have to tell me. Family loyalty.”
He snorted. “That’s what we’re calling it?”
I knew what he meant. Mason, Logan, and me. It was the three of us, always and forever. I softened my tone. “Come on. Tell me.”
“Like you were going to tell me, right?” But I heard the surrender in his voice. He was going to spill the details. “Channing called Mason last night, and Mason called me. He wanted to know if Heather was coming to the party tomorrow night, wasn’t sure that he’d come if she was.”
“What?” I was fighting not to let my jaw drop. Channing and Heather fought, but this sounded like it was on a whole other level.
“He broke it off with her, something about his sister.”
I went back to frowning. Heather had mentioned his sister, and some problems with her last year. “I thought all of that was done.”
“Who knows. Neither of them really confide in us, right?” He was eyeing me, and I moved my head in acknowledgment. It wasn’t that Heather didn’t trust me, it was just that neither of us really talked about our issues. If something happened, we dealt with it. If we had to cry, we did. If we needed to get drunk to take our mind off things, we did that too. If we needed to go dancing to help keep things at bay, it was known to happen. Heather had been there for me during a bad time last year, and if she needed to talk, she knew I’d be there for her too. We fought for each other, but we just weren’t the type of friends to sit and spill our guts—not unless we really needed to do it or it’d literally rip us apart.
Heather had lit a second cigarette, but I knew what we needed to do tonight.
“Okay,” I said to Logan. “If you had plans to scare us tonight, don’t.” My eyes were on Heather as I kept talking. “This might turn out to be a Ninja Sam night or a Dancing Sam night.”
I heard him chuckle. “Those nights are fun. The reasoning behind them, not so much, but the actual drunken Sam moments . . .” He grinned. “Priceless.”
“Heather! It’s time for us to take off.” Heather finished up her cigarette and joined us. I added, winking at Logan, “It’s tequila night tonight.”
“God, yes,” Heather groaned, resting against the truck next to us. She lifted her head up, her chin jutting out toward Logan. “Sorry about being a bitch earlier. I’m sure you know why.”
He shrugged. “It’ll work out, you know that.”
She grunted. “Not sure about that. Not this time.” She pulled out her keys and went to the driver’s side. “Ready, Sam?”
“Ready.” I flashed my stepbrother a grin before going to the passenger door. “See you tomorrow.”
His words were low. “Call if you need anything.”
I knew his meaning. Heather was part of our family. We took care of each other. I nodded to him and climbed into the truck, and a second later we were off again.
Tequila night was about to commence.
Chapter 3
I pulled out the first bottle and placed it on the table. We already had the rest of the ingredients in the middle.
Courtney, Grace, Taylor, and Heather all stood around the table. Courtney and Grace’s eyes widened at the sight of the full bottle, then trailed to the bag and the rest of the booze in there. A wary look came over Taylor’s face, but Heather was focused on the bottle and nothing else.
“We are drinking this tonight.” I was channeling Logan. The best motivational-speech voice I could summon came out, low and suggestive. “We are going to do this bottle proud.”
Courtney and Grace nodded.
“Yes.” Grace licked her lips. “Proud. So proud.”
Courtney was nodding right along with her.
Taylor swallowed, then sighed. “Okay. This is what Logan warned me about, huh.” But she wasn’t asking. She already knew.
I said, “We are going to pay homage to the tequila gods tonight. We are going to kneel at their altar, lick their balls, stroke their members.” My hand rubbed up and down the bottle’s neck.
Courtney and Grace shared a look, cringing, but faced me again. Their shoulders rolled back and Courtney clapped her hands. “Let’s do this!”
Grace let out a war whoop. “Yeah!”
Taylor took a breath and held it.
I raised the bottle up, then lifted it high. “May we make you proud tonight!” Then I opened it up, licked some salt, took a shot, and bit down on a lime wedge. As I felt the burn, Heather took the bottle from me and tipped her head back. She did the same, taking more than a couple shots. When she was done, the bottle was passed around again.
The salt was licked.
The tequila was downed.
The limes were bit into.
I grabbed the stereo remote and soon “Party Till We Die” by Timmy Trumpet filled the air. The bottle had gotten around to Taylor by now, and I was on deck. Courtney and Grace were both cringing and coughing, but they were waiting, just like me and Heather. After my second shot, when it was going around a second time, Heather took her double dose and passed the bottle, then leaned over to me. “Thank you.”
I nodded. She didn’t need to say anything else. She wanted to forget whatever shit was going on, and that was my mission. We were going to get shit-faced. When Grace was handing the bottle off to Taylor, I said, “Another two times around. We need to finish the bottle, and then we can move on to mixed drinks.”
Courtney stuck her tongue out, shaking her head as Taylor took the tequila from her. “I thought tonight was about wine and gossip, and weren’t we going to do something Halloween-ish too?”
I shrugged. The pumpkins were still on the porch. “That’s the second round of events. Costumes and then heading out and dancing.”
Taylor moaned, finishing her shot, and slid the bottle across the table toward me. “Tell me this is the only round. Please.”
I beamed at her, snatching up the bottle. “Nope. Mixed drinks.” Then I tried to do a Heather and inhale two full shots at once. Goddamn! That burned. I couldn’t hold in my own moan, but Heather took the bottle.
She drank.
And drank.
And continued drinking.
The rest of the girls went from being surprised to understanding.
“Oh.” I heard a quiet murmur from Grace.
“No.” Heather pointed at each of them. “I don’t want your fucking pity.”
Taylor asked, softly, “What do you want from us?”
“This.” Heather took another shot, and even I was wincing. I was pretty sure we were already beyond what was a healthy amount to drink. She finished and blindly shoved the bottle in Courtney’s direction. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want lectures, or speeches, or inspirational pep talks. I want to get fuck-faced enough where I actually might get fucked on my face tonight.”
Grace grimaced, blinking rapidly at the same time. “That sounds painful, confusing, and strangely erotic at the same time.” She gave me the last of what was left in the bottle. “I think I’m turned on.”
There wasn’t much left, and before I could down it, Heather took it. She finished it, then put the bottle in the middle of the table. “Phase one”—a silent burp came out—“complete.” Her eyes were raw and the wall that hid her emotions was gone. I just saw the pain there as she whispered, “Next. Please.”
My arms lifted as if to hug her, but she saw them and her eyes hardened. “No.”
That one word kept me from reaching for her, and I lifted both to indicate the kitchen. I felt like I w
as an air traffic controller with that move. “Aaaaand everyone shuffle to the right. Long Island iced teas.” I sang the drink’s name and instantly they all relaxed into smiles. Everyone loved a Long Island iced tea. How could they not?
We probably didn’t need them, but who cared. I wanted us to figure out costumes before the shots hit our minds. If not, we might end up clubbing in just underwear and bras, thinking we were Underwear Wonder Woman or something. I didn’t want to worry about our pictures ending up in a sleazy tabloid. I was Mason Kade’s girlfriend. I never knew where or when someone might try and sell a photo of me.
“Okay.” I set out all the ingredients. “Everyone make your own drink, and then explore the house to find a Halloween costume.”
“We’re going dancing after this?” Taylor asked.
I nodded. “Did your other friends want to come?”
“Jason might. He might go somewhere else, but he can drive us there, if we need a driver.”
I’d planned on an Uber, but I was okay with that, at least this early in the night. “Sounds good. We can cab it home.”
Heather stepped outside, leaning against the wall, and reached in her pocket for her cigarettes.
Taylor said, “Logan told me.”
Nope. I wasn’t going to be that friend who talked about another friend the second they stepped away. I had earlier with Logan, but that was different. Taylor wasn’t like that either, so she wasn’t gossiping to be hurtful, but this could hurt Heather. If it’d been me, I would’ve felt there’d been enough talk by now. Talking wasn’t even necessary at this point.
I said, “I need to make my own drink too.”
“Yeah.” Taylor flashed me a grin. “Me too.”
We both reached for our glasses when Courtney and Grace stopped laughing. They had moved into the living room with their iced teas in hand. “Hey, Sam,” Courtney said.
“Yeah?” I said.
She gestured upstairs. “Any rooms that’s off limits for us? For the costumes?”
“Uh . . .” I exchanged a look with Taylor.
“Go to Nate’s. Definitely go to Nate’s room.”
Mason and his best friend Nate had lived with Logan and me last year. The two graduated, but their rooms and their things were still here. It was like a second or third home for both of them. I knew they’d be back often enough for visits, so it didn’t make sense to clean everything out. So most of Nate’s things had been left behind in his room.
They started giggling again, then Courtney coughed, trying for a stern face. “And where is that room?”
The tequila had officially arrived.
“The first bedroom. There’s a guest room, then a bathroom. The door that opens to another set of stairs is Logan’s. Don’t go in there.”
“Thank you.” Courtney waved as they headed up.
Taylor dropped her voice, even though no one was in the room. “I’m not sure what Logan left out on the bed from last night. He got, ahem, creative.”
I finished my tea and shook my head. “I don’t need to hear about Logan’s creativity.” I was trying to hold back a laugh.
She didn’t hold hers back. “I’m going to grab something quick to wear. I’ll help those other two. Should we dress them in Nate’s underwear? I think that’s more the dilemma I’m torn about.” She started for the stairs, but paused. “It’s not like he’ll see them being used. He’s in Boston too.”
The clock said seven thirty-three. “Nope. He should be in the Los Angeles stadium right about now. He’s coming back with Mason tomorrow.”
“That’s right. I forgot about the game.” She looked at the television. “We could’ve watched the game tonight.”
“Nah.” I just smiled. It was girls’ night tonight.
She seemed to understand and her eyes darkened. “Hey, uh.” She flicked a glance to where Heather was still standing outside. “I didn’t mean to come off like I was gossiping before. Thanks for not participating. The words were out before I realized what I said.”
“It’s fine.”
And it was. Taylor wasn’t like that. Courtney and Grace were her friends too, since Taylor had joined the cross-country team the same time I did, but they were more my friends. I stayed when she had to quit because her nursing program became too demanding. Even though Taylor was from Cain, she didn’t have a lot of friends. That was her choice. She could’ve had them. She was beautiful on the inside and out, with light brown hair, almost golden-blond in sunlight, and the darkest almond-colored eyes. Logan was head over heels for her, but if she’d been a catty, gossipy kind of girl, he wouldn’t have given her the time of day. I finished pouring my drink as Taylor went upstairs, then poked my head outside.
“Wanna help me look for something cute and sexy, but also comfortable enough where I won’t want to get rid of it when the booze hits me?” I asked Heather. She was sitting, but now she was starting to look fuzzy to me. “Too late.”
The booze had just knocked down my front door.
She sighed, leaning back and crossing her legs at the ankles. “Are they all talking about me?”
“Not one word.”
I stepped out and sat down to rest next to her.
Heather held up her drink and I clinked mine against it. “Salute.”
She raised hers up before taking a long drink. “I’m already fucked up.”
I patted her leg. “That’s okay. I am too.” Or I was getting there. “Taylor’s friend is going to drive us to the club.”
“Do me a favor?” She put her cigarette out, then locked those so-sad eyes on mine again.
“Anything.”
“Don’t let me go home with some random tonight. Okay?”
“Not a problem. Consider me your lesbian bitch tonight.”
She frowned. “Pretty sure that’d make me your lesbian bitch.”
“Really?” I shrugged. “Either way, you’re mine tonight. No guy or girl better even look your way.”
She grinned. “Are you going to be Butch Sam tonight?”
“Oh yeah. I am all . . .” My mind was coming up blank. I gave up. “I have no idea what the jokes are.”
We stood and moved to go inside, then headed to the basement.
I put all the costumes from last year down there. If the others couldn’t find anything, I’d tell them about the storage room. I was selfish. I wanted to get there first. “You might not want to say that out loud around her. She looked at you this summer and said her favorite food was fish.”
I didn’t think she meant the food.
Chapter 4
Courtney was dressed as a sexy teacher. We were all giving her grief, since teaching was her major, but she shrugged us off. She said, “Think of it as me practicing what not to wear. I have to be the buttoned-up, prim-and-proper version next year. I want to be inappropriate tonight.”
Grace was a colorful princess-fish. I had no clue where she’d found the tulle, but . . . okay.
I was impressed. The clothes looked like costumes bought from a store.
Taylor lifted her hand in a Vanna White motion. She wore a black corseted dress with her hair pulled up into a tight bun. A piece of a wig was on the front of her face; she was a bearded lady.
She clasped her hands together in front of her. “I like roller coasters. I couldn’t figure out how to be that, so this was the next best thing.”
Heather grunted. “You’re one hot bearded lady.”
“Really?” She perked up.
“Totally.” Heather was leaning an elbow on my shoulder.
Then all of the attention was focused on us. I elbowed her in the side. “Oh, yeah.” She straightened, her arm falling back against her side. She was holding her drink in the same hand she used now to motion toward both of us. “I figured we’d go opposite what we are in our real lives—”
I frowned. She hadn’t said that when she’d suggested the costumes.
She kept going. “I’m an angel.” She lifted the wings that we’d fastened behi
nd her. They were made of white tulle, but I knew this tulle came from the costume closet. I might have to go on a mission to find the pink, sparkly tulle that Grace was wearing. I wondered if there was any left. I could do crafts with it . . . or ask someone who did crafts, to make something pretty with it.
Heather was saying, pointing to me, “ . . . darkness here. Sam’s all light and beautiful, so she’s going the dark hooker route.”
I had on black fishnets, a black leather dress, and the same tulle as Heather’s, but mine was black. We’d tried to cover it with black glitter we found in another container. The glue wasn’t sticking, and half the glitter was on the floor. I made a mental note to clean when I got up tomorrow.
The girls weren’t sure how to react, and I held my hands out. “I had no idea she intended us to be ‘opposite’ what we are.” I turned to Heather. “Hearing that I’m all ‘light’ is news to me. You met me in high school.”
“You’re happy now.” She saluted me with her glass. “Trust me. The costumes fit our opposites.” She finished the rest of her Long Island iced tea.
I raised an eyebrow, though I shouldn’t have been surprised. Heather looked ready to bulldoze her way through a liquor store.
She was still standing. We all were, but I was starting to waver. I glanced over, and, yep. Taylor was holding on to the wall. Grace was holding on to Courtney, and Courtney was gritting her teeth, focusing on the spot behind me.
It was time to dance. We needed to start sobering up, just a little.
* * *
Here we were. We walked into that nightclub like we owned it. The bouncers opened the door, and we strode right past them. The wind kicked up and it was like a fan blowing for us, like we were walking on a runway. The angel, the dark hooker, the bearded lady, the sexy fish, and the teacher. All eyes were on us—and then Grace tripped and fell.
“Oomph!”
“Oh my gosh.” Courtney stopped to help her up. She tried. Her heel slipped, and she landed right next to Grace, her elbow decking her in the face. “AH!”
I wasn’t even trying to help. No way. Tequila and my heels: not a good mix, I’d learned, thanks to Courtney.
