Distraction

by McPherson, Angela

  Where the fuck did all these people come from? We'd only been gone ten minutes tops. I could barely get to the kitchen with the beer. I sat the beer on the floor and texted Kellie. She didn't reply. Fuck it. Probably best to leave it alone, anyway.

  "I heard Kellie left," Elle said. I stood up from the ice chest I filled full of beer.

  "Yeah. I kind of forgot she asked me to get her a drink and left without telling her."

  Elle folded her arms over her chest. "You guys okay?"

  I thought about telling her the truth, but reneged.

  "Yeah, sure." I cleared my throat. "What about you and Green?" She shifted from one foot to the other. Did she really like this guy?

  "Yeah, he's really sweet. I like him."

  Fucking perfect.

  "I'm glad, but if he fucks up, I'll make sure he knows it." I grinned. I couldn't help it.

  "Thanks." Elle laughed, and the sound prickled over my skin like a cool breeze on a hot day. Shit, I missed her.

  "You want something to drink?"

  She shook her head. "Nah, I'm driving us later." I felt a little better knowing he wouldn't be able to take advantage of her. "I better get back out there. Good luck tomorrow."

  "Thanks." I watched the swing of her hips when she walked out, the bottom of her dress rose, showing her perfect, trim legs. I closed my eyes, gripping the counter instead of finding something to hit. The breathing shit didn't help. I needed a shot, something strong. There were a few filled glasses left in front of me. I picked up one, slammed the shot back, and promptly repeated the process.

  The rest of the night sucked. I tried to keep calm when I found Green kissing Elle while they danced, or later when they sat on the couch and he rubbed her thigh. I attempted to play pool, and then darts, but I sucked ass tonight. My mind flipped between images of Green’s hands all over Elle and them kissing. I headed to the kitchen for a beer refill when someone bumped into me.

  "Watch where you're fucking going." The poor freshman looked ready to piss himself.

  "Sorry, man." The kid raised his hands in the air and slowly backed away. I knew then I had to leave before I got into a fight. I didn't bother saying goodbye. I just took off.

  When I got home, I didn't change. Landing face first on my bed, I passed out.

  Elle

  When Eric asked me to the date night party, I blurted out my answer before thinking about the consequences. Since he and Tristan were now in the same frat house, I didn't have a good feeling about going. I hoped Kellie would keep him occupied, even though the thought left a bad taste in my mouth.

  Alyssa and Bret were also going together. Tisha couldn't have been happier about them hooking up, but I had my reservations. Alyssa didn't do the dating thing, or not for very long. She'd never admit it, but Alyssa and Tristan were a mirrored version of the other. I swear the way they went at each other you'd think they were siblings.

  When I told Alyssa that Eric asked me to go with him, she and I ran out and bought new dresses. I picked a cute orange and cream chevron-patterned dress. The dress hit mid-thigh and I paired it with my cute tan, leather heeled boots. Alyssa chose a daring black, tight fitted dress. Didn't surprise me. Right before seven thirty rolled around, Tisha walked into our room wearing a cute lavender dress.

  "Tisha, you look great."

  She blushed. "Thanks. I told Josh I'd meet him there since Bret would be coming here." She shook her head. "Bret doesn't like him, and the last time he picked me up at our parents' house, he threatened to beat him up." Alyssa and I laughed.

  "Brothers," I said.

  "Elle, your date's here," Ginger yelled from the living room. I cringed, knowing what she had on. She and Alyssa had competed for the tightest dress award.

  "I'm going out there before Ginger has a chance to steal him away."

  "Elle, she has nothing on you," Alyssa said, giving me an encouraging smile.

  "Thanks."

  * * *

  When we walked into the house, people were packed in like sardines, almost everyone grinding to the music in the living room.

  Eric leaned in and whispered in my ear. "Can't wait to get you back at pool."

  Kicking up my competitive drive, I gave him an impish smile in return. Suddenly, my stomach knotted as if I were being watched from afar, but I didn't dare look, thinking I'd find the source to be Tristan.

  A few minutes later, Tristan walked over to ask if I'd take him to buy beer. Um, no. I knew why he'd asked me. He really needed to get it through his thick head that I liked Eric. So, I told him to ask Bret, and he did, without arguing. Odd. When they left, Eric went to grab me and Alyssa a drink.

  "You handled Tristan pretty well."

  I frowned. "Yeah. I think he handled the situation well, too."

  She quirked her brow. "Maybe." Eric came back then with our drinks. I drew the short straw before we left. So he gave me a water and he and Alyssa drank a beer.

  "Thank you." I smiled, and then had the feeling of someone staring at me again.

  "Elle, have you seen Tristan?" I blinked twice, but it really was her. Kellie'd asked me a question, and sounded somewhat nice about it.

  "Yeah, he and Bret left to pick up some more beer."

  "Thanks." Rolling her eyes, she stormed away.

  "Looks like someone is in trouble," Alyssa said.

  I kind of felt bad, knowing where he went when Kellie made it clear she didn't. I thought about texting Tristan, but decided not to. He could figure it out on his own.

  Bret and Alyssa took off to dance. Well, more like had sex with their clothes on. I noticed Tristan headed to the kitchen and excused myself.

  Once Tristan looked at me, the fire in his eyes turned my stomach inside out. I imagined his lips pressed against mine while his hands explored my body. Shit. I liked Eric. Right?

  We talked and my knees nearly buckled, especially after his “I can do things to make you scream" smile graced his lips. I had to get out of there and hurried like hell to my date...Eric.

  When I went back, Eric didn't waste time and asked me to dance. I gladly accepted, pushing away Tristan and his smile out of my mind. Eric and I danced easily, blending to the music together. At some point I began running my fingers through his soft, sandy blond hair. In return, Eric bent his head forward and captured my lips in a passionate kiss. Unlike Alyssa, I didn't like outward displays in public, but the heated kiss didn't last long. When he pulled away, a rush of warmth spread across my cheeks and down my neck.

  A few songs later, my feet ached and I insisted we take a break. We sat next to Tisha and her boyfriend, Josh, on the couch. Josh said he and Eric played baseball together.

  Tisha and I chatted a bunch. She mentioned Bret's interest in Alyssa. Apparently she'd made an impression after he caught Ginger sucking Robbie's face off at the beginning of school while they were dating. I squirmed. Alyssa never cheated, but when she felt she needed a new guy, she'd dump the current one and move on. Without regret.

  "I'm going to the bathroom. I'll be back in a second," Tisha said.

  I nodded and eyed the packed room. I found Tristan playing darts, but when Eric rested his hand on my thigh, I forgot all about Tristan.

  When Tisha came back we pulled the guys back to the makeshift dance floor where we stayed most of the night.

  * * *

  The next day I sent another email to my sister and then called my mom for an update. Unfortunately, she didn't have anything new to report. We could go months without hearing from Heather, but it'd been nearly five now. The long stretch of silence made me antsy. I decided to drive around town in hopes of seeing her.

  On my way out, I grabbed my stash of printouts. Sometimes Alyssa would help me look, but she didn't get in until well past four this morning. I didn't wake her.

  I stopped by the few shelters in town and the food bank, but with no luck. I left a few of the black and white pictures and gave my number in case she showed up. The directors all said the same thing. "If she doesn't
want to be found, she won't be." They knew me well from the volunteer work I'd done through Kappa. When my mom told me Heather was in Lubbock a while back, I'd checked in every few days, but between work, school, and life, I'd slowed down my search for her. The guilt ate away at me, too.

  On my way back home, a desperate, lost feeling seeped in, and I did something I probably shouldn't have. I called Tristan. He'd always been there, as a lifeline when I felt the emotional tidal wave crashing over me. He kept me from drowning. With every unanswered ring, my heart raced a little faster. My stomach knotted and then I heard his voice–telling me to leave a message. I released my held breath.

  "Hey, it's me…Elle. Just wanted to wish you luck tonight. Talk to ya later."

  I hit end. Maybe him not answering was best. When I pulled into my driveway, Ginger was backing her car away from the house. She flipped me off when I refused to wait for her. Whatever.

  Inside I went directly to my room. I felt emotionally worn out and needed some peace before I got ready to watch Tristan's game later...with Eric. Alyssa, as predicted, was still in bed asleep. I kicked off my shoes, snuggled in bed, and pulled my comforter over my head to drown out her insidious snoring.

  * * *

  Eric and I tailgated with some of his friends before the game. Red plastic cups with assorted alcoholic concoctions were passed around. I took a fruit flavored mix and made sure to drink slowly. I hadn't eaten much, and I'd be bent over a trashcan if I downed it.

  An hour later Eric and I sat in the packed stadium, ready to watch the game. I loved the hyped crowds in the stands. As soon as the speaker announced the players, the crowd went wild. Alyssa texted me saying she and Tisha were watching the game together.

  "You want anything from the concession stand?"

  I finished my text back to Alyssa. "Maybe some popcorn," I said.

  "You're a cheap date, ya know."

  "Careful, I may surprise you." I winked, and Eric laughed.

  When Eric came back, I thanked him for the snack and we watched the game. Tech hadn't gotten off to a good start. Tristan only played a few times in the first quarter. I knew he'd be pissed, especially after Bret took his place and fumbled the damn ball. TCU didn't mess around, and at halftime, the scoreboard mirrored how good they were.

  I could barely eat the popcorn while watching all the unnecessary turnovers. The second half resulted in two more fumbles by us, leading to an additional touchdown by TCU. Tech only scored twice. Even though I knew we couldn't recover, I had to finish watching until the end. It was like watching a horror movie and knowing the ditzy blonde was about to die and you couldn't do a damn thing to save her.

  I knew Tristan couldn't have turned the game around, but also knew had his coach played him more, he'd have moved the ball closer to the end zone.

  Eric asked if I wanted to hang out afterward, but I didn't feel like being around a bunch of people and asked if we could rain check for tomorrow after I got off work. When he dropped me off, I sent Tristan a quick text.

  TCU is a good team. Don't beat yourself up over the loss. You have homecoming to think about. Get ready to kill ‘em next week.

  Tristan didn't respond. I could only imagine the heat and fury blazing in his eyes, or the amount of alcohol he'd consume because of them losing. Alyssa or Tisha didn't come home, and I hoped she'd leave Tristan alone if they ended up at the same place.

  When Ginger showed up, oddly enough, we watched a movie together. We even popped popcorn and had a decent conversation. When the movie ended, so did the unspoken camaraderie.

  "I'm off to bed." She stood from the couch, and oh so eloquently said, "I can only handle small doses of boredom."

  I rolled me eyes. God, “vulture" sure did fit her perfectly.

  Chapter 13

  Tristan

  Losing tonight...sucked. Coach yelled and promised to run our asses off during practice on Monday. We all knew he meant what he said, and we deserved whatever workout he'd make us endure. We played like horseshit tonight. After we changed, some guys said they were gonna get shitfaced and I couldn't think of anything better I'd like to do myself. After getting dressed, I grabbed my phone from my locker and turned it on. I had a text from my dad. After reading his message, I regretted turning it on.

  He said I'd be on the field more if I applied myself and gave my coach what he needed during practices. Instantly, my hand began to shake from resented anger. The reason I hadn't been given the chance to play most likely resulted from my dad's ruthless ability to throw money at people in order to get what he wanted. Needless to say, his text didn't help my already shitty mood.

  Once in my car, I peeled out of the parking lot and turned up the radio as loud as I could stand it. The drive only took a few minutes, and when I parked, my phone buzzed again. Sighing loudly through my nose, I looked to see Elle's name come across the screen.

  My mood lifted a little after I read her message. She always knew what to say. I thought about texting her back but didn't know if she'd be with him. Fuck, my shitty mood just got shittier. I needed a drink, a nice, strong drink...or three.

  Kellie showed up not long after I got to the frat house, but went back to ignoring me after a while. I took full advantage of the freedom, and got shitfaced with the rest of the guys, minus the dickhead Robbie. Later on, I proudly took Jarred's keg stand title away.

  As the night wore on, I lost track of how many shots I'd thrown back. I knew I'd hit my limit when the room blurred. A few designated freshmen brought back a shit ton of breakfast burritos. I scarfed down two, hoping to soak up the abundance of alcohol I'd consumed.

  "Hey, man. I think I'm gonna crash here tonight. Is that cool?"

  Jarred, who was as trashed as me, bobbed his head slowly. "Fine with me. You can crash on the couch upstairs."

  "Cool. Thanks, man."

  I climbed the stairs, tightening my grip on the handrail when my body swayed. Safely making my way up, I staggered by a room and heard a faint, familiar laugh behind the closed door. I paused, but was too fucked up to place who the voice belonged to.

  Farther down the hall, stumbling in the dark, my shins rammed into the couch. Haphazardly, I kicked off my shoes, crashed against the sofa, and passed smooth out.

  * * *

  The fucking sun sucked. The pounding against my skull sucked. The ass taste in my mouth when I woke up sucked. Walking down the stairs sucked even more because the pounding pressure in my head increased. The sun still shone like a beacon, and I swear to God the light grew brighter when I made my way downstairs.

  Voices were loud and obnoxious, and the few “hey sexy" comments I got from random dudes I passed didn't help my pissy mood. I wiped my hand across my face and noticed my fingernails. Reminder to self: never fall asleep in a house full of drunken assholes. I headed to the downstairs bathroom, but not quick enough.

  "You didn't think we'd let you get out of the hazing, Daniels?" Bret, with a too bright smile on his smug face, stood in front of me.

  "Fucktard," I said, slamming the bathroom door shut, but winced as the pounding thudded behind my eyes seized me. I squeezed them shut.

  Slowly, I opened them and looked at my mug in the mirror. "Son of a bitch." So they got me, but it was so fucking on. They had no idea.

  My lips were covered with red lipstick and my eyes had blue glitter shit all over them. I ran water over my face, rubbing the red from my mouth, only I smeared the mess instead. I yelled, "Dammit," and heard laughter.

  I grabbed a towel and commenced to scrubbing the shit off. The cold water helped my head some. When most of the makeup washed off, I threw the red and blue glitter towel in the sink and walked back out. Jarred tossed me a beer as soon I came into the living room.

  "You got off easy, man. My nails were painted and they shaved my head," Jarred confessed when I sat next to him on the couch.

  "Yeah, I guess I did get off better than you, but don't think this is over. That was wrong...on so many levels."

  "Hey, D
aniels," Robbie said, holding up a picture. "Even with the makeup, you're still uglier than hell."

  "Fuck you," I said, inhaling through my nose. I knew his game, but he still rubbed me the wrong way.

  "Maybe we should show this to–"

  "Your picture didn't even come out right. You broke the damn camera," Jarred said. Uncomfortable silence followed, until Robbie laughed.

  "You're right. Hey, it's no big thing, bro. Happens to the best of us." Admittedly, he sounded a little less of a dick then.

  "Funny," Bret said, coming into the room. "I wouldn't consider you best at, well...anything." Bret looked ready to fight. He bowed out his chest and tightly balled his hands by his sides.

  "What the hell is up your ass," Robbie countered.

  "You're my problem, dickweed."

  Jarred jumped in front of Bret. I looked between the two of them, wondering what the hell I'd missed.

  "What the fuck did I do to you?" Robbie took a step back when Bret stepped forward.

  Bret glared at him, viciously. "Not me, bro. But tell me, who did you fuck last night?"

  Robbie gave me a slight glance, and then I knew. I remembered hearing someone laugh before I crashed upstairs last night. The voice sounded familiar and now I couldn't get the sound out of my head.

  "Mind your own business," Robbie seethed.

  My problems with Kellie, my dad's inability to stay the fuck out of my life, and my relationship with Elle, all of it swam through my head. Shit had been building for so long, and this pushed me over the top.

  I moved without thinking. Quick and hard, I slammed my fist into Robbie's face again and again. I reared back for another hit, but someone grabbed me from behind.

  "Daniels, calm down." Someone helped Robbie off the floor. My vision centered on the bastard standing up. A smudge of blood dripped from his lip. He'd have a busted lip and bruises from the small beating. I allowed a minimal amount of satisfaction to creep inside of me.