AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it? She lives in that trailer, doesn’t she?” Monica flings a drunken hand in Dillion’s direction.
“Wow, stereotype much?” Dillion gives me another unimpressed look. “You’ve got some classy friends, Van.”
I move to stand in front of Dillion, in part to act as a barrier between her and Monica, so she doesn’t end up clawing her eyes out. “I’m so sorry. She’s had way too many martinis and doesn’t even know what she’s saying. I didn’t realize how late it was, or that we were being that loud. We’ll take it inside.”
“Great. Thanks.” Her tone is flat.
The last time I saw her, I was the one irritated with her, but after the garbage Monica just spewed, it’s my turn to apologize. “I’m really sorry, Dillion.”
“Sure you are.”
She turns to head back to her place, and Monica mutters something under her breath that I don’t catch, but I’m pretty sure stupid bitch was in there.
Chip hisses her name, and Dillion spins around. “I’m stupid? You’re the idiot who’s been sitting out here moaning about being eaten alive. You’re wearing enough perfume to give someone an asthma attack. I can smell it from here. Do everyone a favor and use the bug spray so we aren’t subjected to your noise pollution.” And with that she whirls around and stomps back through the trees, flip-flops slapping angrily at the ground.
I sort of want to follow her so I can apologize some more and also so I don’t have to deal with Monica, who is now ranting about how bug spray causes cancer and her skin is too sensitive.
Chip takes her back to the RV, but even behind closed doors we can hear the bickering.
“I’m sorry, man. We didn’t mean to get you in shit with your neighbor,” Frankie says. “I can’t believe Monica said that. She’s always been annoying, but never cruel. Next time we’ll leave her at home. Who knows? Maybe this will finally put Chip over the edge and he’ll break up with her.”
“We can hope.”
They end up leaving first thing in the morning, mostly because Monica is mortified and hungover. Normally I’d let something like this roll off me, but in this case I don’t like that one of the people in my close-friend group could treat someone they don’t even know with so little respect. So I can’t say I’m all that heartbroken about the fact that they don’t stick around. I don’t need more problems than I already have. Especially not with my neighbor.
CHAPTER 11
BEACH PARTY
Dillion
“You think you can give me a ride to the beach tonight?” Billy asks no one in particular as he shovels another mouthful of hash brown casserole into his mouth. His face is about three inches from his plate. He reminds me of a cartoon character with his mouth wide open and a conveyor belt dumping food down the hatch.
“I can drive you,” I offer.
Billy frowns. “You hate the beach parties.”
He’s right. I generally avoided them when I was a teenager, and the few times I did go, I ended up regretting it. There was the time Tucker had initiated one of our many breaks and ended up hooking up with one of the summer girls from the other side of the lake right in front of me. I’d retaliated by kissing some random dude in a game of truth or dare.
Was it stupid? Yup. Did I regret it? Yes and no. I made my point, and Tucker, being the idiot he was, immediately called an end to our break. Not because he’d seen the error of his ways, but because he couldn’t stand the thought of me with anyone else.
To this day I wonder about that boy. Did I ever pass him on the street in town without realizing it? Had I imagined the energy that had zinged through my veins and lit me up from the inside? That kiss had sparked a fire in me, one that had been stoked and snuffed almost as quickly.
Or maybe I’d been drunk, and it wasn’t as magical as I remembered it to be. I don’t even know his name. Or even what he looked like from the nose down, since he’d been wearing a ball cap, and all I could make out was his mouth. Beach parties on this side of the lake are always a drunk fest, lots of hookups and general stupidity, which I’m still not a fan of—see what happened last night with Van and his friends for details. That whole fiasco reminded me of those parties back when I was a teenage girl, looking for a way out. And I have a particularly sore spot over Van’s friend’s shitty comment. I hate that I’ve once again become the small-town stereotype I’ve tried to escape my entire life.
I’m willing to set aside my disdain for beach parties, however, because as much as I dislike them, I also don’t like the idea of Billy being there with no one to watch out for him apart from his drunk and disorderly friends, who have already proven they can’t be trusted to take care of him. That much was clear when Van brought him back from the bar, drunker than a frat boy on frosh week. Last night was the first time I’d seen Van since then, and I still felt bad for assuming he’d had a hand in Billy being drunk, despite his shitty friends.
