I wished she hadn’t brought up my father. The topic depressed and frustrated me. My father was diagnosed with liver and colon cancer three months ago. He could’ve avoided it if he went to the doctor more than once every ten years and stopped abusing meth and alcohol.
My mom and I never knew he had been using meth for years. He wasn’t bouncing off the walls or talking up a storm. Instead, he pissed himself off in seconds and physically injured my mom, threatening to kill her. He’d punch holes in the walls and break anything nearby, mostly knick knacks and a movie or two.
The man was also paranoid and saw things. Once he convinced himself a cop was in our carport, spying on him. Another time he swore cameras were hidden in the palm trees across the street, trained on him.
But who was I to judge? He was only my father, the man who was supposed to protect me.
People liked to remind me I should forgive him for what he had done to me and move on, that his cancer should bring us together. I heard that from everyone. On some sick note, I wanted him dead and gone. That way I didn’t have to think about him. To me, he died when I was ten. That’s when he stopped caring about his family and his life and refused to go to work.
When I thought about caring for him, all the painful memories came flooding back. In particular, I remember how he was childish and pushed me when I had fallen after twisting my ankle in a hole the dog dug when I was eleven. Then my father acted like he was five and ran around the house like an annoying little brother.
If he was a true father, he would’ve carried me into the house and got me ice. No, I got pushed and laughed at. Mom had it out with him when she came home, telling him he should take care of his daughter. It was one of many fights that ended their nineteen-year marriage.
When I felt bad for him, the memories brought my hate back to the surface. It was how I coped. Some said it was the wrong way, but it was my way.
What I needed was a perfect angry band to wash away the thoughts about my father and Jason. I turned to my iPod and listened to In This Moment. Sometimes, music is the only place a person can turn.
Chapter Six
Apparently Jason and Hunter were throwing the party of a lifetime, according to Amelia anyway. She flipped out and screamed like a little girl who’d found out she got everything she wished for Christmas. It didn’t faze her that three nights ago she got shitfaced with Hunter and had to be dragged into my house. When Amelia came to the next morning, she was embarrassed and swore to never get trashed again. I’d be the judge of that.
I heard about the party secondhand. Jason did text me an invite, but that was two hours after Amelia was in the know. Talk about being in the circle. I so wasn’t.
To my dismay I had to attend the bash. Someone had to keep track of love-struck Amelia, especially after what happened last time I left her. I didn’t trust Hunter and Amelia was basically a virgin to the party scene. I had to at least try to protect her. She didn’t have thick skin like me.
Since the party wasn’t that big of a deal, I dressed down. I didn’t want too much attention drawn to me. I bet no one there would be my taste anyway. I settled for a camouflaged skirt that ended two inches above my knees. A cotton black tee and combat boots completed my outfit. I brushed my hair, but left it wavy. I put a touch of makeup on so my face wasn’t too shiny or pale. Nothing dramatic, no black eye shadow or blood red lips. I saved that for real parties.
“Are you ready yet?” I shouted from my room.
Amelia didn’t answer. She was in her room with the door closed. Did I even want to know how she was preparing for the party?
I swallowed the lump in my throat and walked to her door. The voice in my head reminded me the faster we go, the faster we—or at least I—can leave. I turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. What I found made me sigh heavily.
Amelia stood in front of the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. She wore a silver dress that stopped mid-thigh. It had a deep V-neck, drawing attention to her exposed breasts and the glitter she smeared on her chest. The skirt hung loose, making it blossom around her when she twirled. She was a few inches shorter than me, but she was determined to stand tall, hence the seven inch heels she slipped on. I thought her dress was bad, that was until she turned to look at me.
She smiled at me with lips coated in red lipstick. It reminded me of how a person’s lips looked like after eating a Popsicle. Her hazel eyes looked wild with the amount of heavy green eye shadow and black eyeliner around them. Her brown hair fell down her back in long waves and flowed over her shoulders. She looked like she was going to a slutty prom.
“What are you wearing?” I asked, trying not to look as disgusted as I felt.
Her smile fell, as if I broke it with my comment. “You don’t think I look good? I want to get Hunter’s attention.”
“I think all the boys will give you their attention. Hell, you may break necks,” I said dryly, shaking my head.
Her smile returned in stereo. “Really?” She twirled before the mirror, giggling. I could see a hint of her underwear underneath. That was so not a good thing for a party.
“Are you sure you want to wear that? You may give Hunter the wrong impression. When girls wear something like that, they usually want—”
“Sex? Are we really having this conversation? I know. That’s why I have condoms in my purse.”
“You’re not trying to be like me, are you?” As soon as the words came out, I regretted them.
Amelia’s face turned red with fury. Her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed together. “Why do you assume things? I don’t want to be you, Syd. I want to be me and I happen to like a boy. In order to show him I like him, I dress like this.” She pointed to herself. “It’s the way the world is today. It has nothing to do with you.” Each of her words had venom in them. I had awakened a sleeping rattlesnake.
I tried to ease her, lifting my hands up in defeat. “I’m sorry. It’s just you don’t act like this. What about that guitarist? You liked him too and—”
She sighed and looked away. A smirk curled her lips. “He’s nothing compared to Hunter.”
My stomach twisted into a pretzel. “Can’t I be worried about you?”
Her face softened. “Of course you can. I know you think of me as a sister as much as I think of you as my own blood, but I don’t need your protection.”
“Why Hunter, if I may ask?” I leaned against her doorjamb. The topic took a lot of my energy.
She blushed a little. “He has something that makes my bones turn to jelly and I get all tingly around him. It’s rare I’d dress like this for a guy.” She gave me a pointed look. “I don’t do every guy I look at or flirt with.”
An invisible anchor pulled my mouth down into a frown. “I see,” I said sharply. That was a jab if I didn’t know any better.
Amelia tried to make up for it by giving me a shy smile. “It’s nothing personal, Syd. We’re different when it comes to love.”
I shrugged. She believed in love and I didn’t. The conversation had to end before I said something nasty. “Okay, well, I’ll be downstairs waiting for you.”
Amelia said something as I went down the hall. I wasn’t in the mood to turn around and ask her to repeat. I probably didn’t want to know. I quickened my pace and drifted down the stairs.
I sat on the couch and almost finished watching the half hour sitcom on TV when Amelia decided to grace me with her presence. She didn’t look any different. What was she doing for thirty minutes? It was none of my business.
In the car, I used music as a wall. The previous conversion we had upstairs lingered in the air. It was close enough you could taste it. I drove with my eyes straight forward. My skin itched when Amelia looked at me. I knew she wanted to apologize again, but I didn’t want to hear it. I knew who I was. I wasn’t a whore, but I was no chastity girl either.
To keep my mouth shut, I resorted to chewing on my lower lip, rubbing off all my lip gloss. I felt how nude and bare my lips were. The
y probably appeared dead to others. I didn’t care. I wasn’t impressing anyone tonight.
I parked up the street and we walked to the two-story house. It was a huge beach house. Dusk settled in, but I could tell, with the dying sun rays, the house was made to look like a wood cabin in the forest. It appeared to be oak and the walls had the log design. People covered the place like tiny ants devouring a picnic in the park. I was ready for it to be over and I wasn’t even inside yet.
“I didn’t know they knew so many people,” Amelia said, standing by my side.
I grabbed her hand as we dove into the crowd. We managed to make it to the house in one piece.
“They probably didn’t plan it to be this popular. You know how word gets out,” I said as we entered the front door.
I thought outside was bad with all the bodies, but inside was worse. The air was thick with smoke and sweat. My lungs felt like a giant hand was squeezing them. Trash covered everything and a huge stain of some dark liquid soiled the light brown couch. People were everywhere. They pushed each other around in the walkways and made out in dingy corners. Some guy had his hand up a girl’s skirt. Privacy didn’t seem to be an issue here.
“Amelia! Over here!” a male voice said from our right.
Amelia looked through the sea of bodies and bolted when she saw who the voice belonged to. She left me surrounded with rude strangers as she went to greet Hunter. I pressed myself through the people to follow her.
Hunter’s eyes widened when he took in Amelia’s wardrobe. He knew what it meant and his smirk said he was ecstatic. I bet something could’ve given that away below his belt, but people shielded my view from checking.
Amelia pressed her body to Hunter’s. She was jumping the gun, but I wasn’t judging. I stood nearby awkwardly, unsure where I belonged.
“Wanna go upstairs? It’s not as crowded,” Hunter asked loudly over the music.
“Yes,” Amelia said in a rush.
At first I thought I was invited, but when they turned to leave, Hunter squeezed her ass and I knew I wasn’t. What to do at a party I didn’t want to attend? Leave? I could, but something told me to wait. I’d stay one hour. If nothing happened, I was out of there. If Amelia wanted to bed Hunter, she could, but I wasn’t waiting for her to finish.
I fought the damn crowd to the kitchen. I poured myself a warm beer in a plastic, red cup from a keg. I sat on the counter and watched people. You could learn a lot about human behavior by watching how they acted.
“What are you doing away from the fun?” a voice asked.
I tore my eyes off a boy who had a tall, blue Mohawk and sneered at the stranger. I dropped the dirty look when I saw the person’s face. It belonged to Jason.
“Why do you care?” I snapped back.
“Because I invited you,” he said. A smile hung on his lips.
I slid off the counter. Jason stood a good seven inches taller than me. I had to look up to meet his eyes. “You invited me out of pity or because you felt like you had to.” I tried to brush by him.
He caught my wrist. “You really think that?” He sounded hurt.
“Isn’t that why?” The games he played were tiring.
For a moment, he stood there. Finally, he exhaled and said, “You don’t get it, do you?”
I raised an eyebrow. “What? I don’t get what?”
He let my wrist go. “Never mind. Have you seen Hunter?”
“Yeah, he took Amelia upstairs.”
Jason looked down at his shoes, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Oh, I see. Looks like I have to deal with this myself.”
Curiosity bubbled inside me. I picked at my nails to hide it. “Deal with what?”
He swayed his weight from the balls of his feet to his heels, acting uncomfortable. “I need to replace the keg. We have a super huge one, but it’s a two-man job to carry it from the basement.”
“I could help if you want.” For a moment, the memory of Jason helping me carry Amelia into my house came to mind. “I kinda owe you since you helped me with Amelia.”
He looked me up and down. I was glad I had worn my combat boots. “I guess you can try.”
“What? You don’t think I can? I happen to hit the gym a lot.” I lifted my right arm and showed off my muscle for proof.
He motioned for me to follow him. “Okay, okay, I believe you. Come on.”
What did you volunteer to do? Carry a heavy keg into a house of crazed partyers with a guy who doesn’t even give two licks about you. Smart move, the voices in my head screamed as I trailed behind Jason. I couldn’t help but notice how firm his ass was in his tight, blue jeans. I forced my eyes to stare at the back of his head, but they kept gliding down his rogued shoulders and narrow waist. His muscles moved like a well-oiled machine.
He opened a door and waved for me to follow once more.
Go down into an ill-lit basement with a guy you don’t know. That doesn’t sound like the beginning of a horror movie.
Jason turned around to face me at the base of the stairs, giving me a close up of the front of his body. The cloth of his shirt was strained over the swell of his chest, and it was almost too much. I think that flat beer I drank was going to my head.
“I’ll pick it up from here so you can hold it and walk forward. I’ll walk backwards. Please make sure I won’t trip on anything,” he said before moving to stand in front of the keg and motioning for me to go around.
“Okay,” I said, getting in position.
“We lift on three. One. Two. Three.” He groaned and picked up his side of the keg.
I lifted on three and felt how heavy the keg was. It was at least two hundred pounds and was the size of a Great Dane. The ultimate party keg. My hands strained on the handle, but I managed.
We went back up. I warned Jason of the first step and we climbed the staircase one at a time. We almost dropped the keg midway, but we caught it in time. Would’ve been a hell of a flood if it broke. Miraculously, we made it to the kitchen and got the keg set up on the island without an issue. People swarmed around as if the beer held the key to eternal youth.
Jason patted me on the back. “Thanks for helping me.”
Was I a dog?
“No worries,” I said, stepping away.
“We’re playing Truth or Dare in the den. Come if you care to join!” Someone shouted over the music.
I took that as my cue to take off. Amelia seemed lost in a land of love and lust. I had no one of interest and wanted to leave. I was about to go when someone took hold of my hand.
My body froze. Jason squeezed my fingers gently and took a step closer to me. I could feel his washboard abs against my stomach. The ache deep inside me awoke to his touch, almost making me wet.
Before I knew it, I was being towed to the den. I was placed onto a blue velvet sofa and Jason sat next to me. There were about twenty to thirty people in the room. They all gathered around. Suspense hung in the air. A good Truth or Dare game did that.
I sat with butterflies fluttering inside my gut. I wasn’t sure why I was nervous. No one knew me. Therefore it was unlikely someone would challenge me to a game. People played with people they knew or wanted to know, not random strangers.
A few rounds were played. A lot of people chose truth. I heard some insane things, a couple I wished were lies. One girl admitted to sleeping with her professor. Another girl had sex with another girl and a boy at the same time. I was learning too much about people I wouldn’t see again.
There were a handful of dares too. One guy had to eat one of the hottest peppers without water. He did and his face turned bright red. Someone else had to lick the bottom of a shoe. That was plain disgusting. What was wrong with these people?
The thrill of the game winded down. People broke away in groups of two and three. I wanted to call it a night and see if any beer was left.
“I challenge you, Sydney, to a game of Truth or Dare,” Jason declared.
I sunk into the sofa and glared at him with my
mouth agape. “Are you serious?”
Of course now is when he decides to say my name correctly.
He nodded, flashing a wicked grin.
I swallowed. My throat was too dry. I didn’t want to play. I didn’t want to admit truths to a bunch of weirdos. I guess most were drunk, so they wouldn’t remember, but it was the principle of the thing.
“Do you accept?” a boy wearing black jeans and no shirt asked.
The pressure of everyone’s eyes on me was too much. I sighed. “I guess.”
“Good. We got another game, people!” the boy shouted with excitement.
Jason moved to the other side of the coffee table. We were like two competitors sitting opposite each other, as if we were playing chess and not a humiliating game that made me want to disappear. Jason was smug. His eyes were lit with mischief. I sat up straighter and wished the game would be over soon without many casualties.
“Are you ready?” the boy with no shirt asked. People gathered around again, curious about the new game.
“Yes,” Jason answered.
“Go,” the boy said, turning over the sand timer, starting the game.
“You go first,” Jason said, giving me a heated look.
My mind blinked for a second. “Umm…Truth or Dare?”
“Truth.”
I stared at the hourglass in thought. “Do you do steroids?” The question fell out. My cheeks burned.
He scowled. The look in his eyes was like I stabbed him with a blade. “No, I don’t believe in the cheating way.”
Did I mention I hated this damn game?
“Truth or Dare?” he asked, clenching his jaw.
“Truth,” I said above a whisper.
“Did you already know those surfing tricks before I came to the beach on the day we met?”
I bit my lip until the taste of rusty blood coated my tongue. I was going to be vague about the details. “Yes,” I answered, looking at the ceiling fan’s reflection in the coffee table’s glossy surface.
Shades of Sydney (Sydney West #1) Page 5
