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I rolled my eyes as I took the turn onto my street. “Be serious.”
Ethan grinned and his hazel eyes danced with laughter. “What? I am. I saw the way he was looking at you. I’d have to be blind not to. If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that Carson wants you at his party, and he wants you alone.” Ethan made an obnoxious kissing face, complete with sound effects.
I reached over and punched him in the arm. “Ew. Shut up.”
Ethan laughed. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
I entered the Brooks’ home like I was entering a war zone—slowly and carefully as if at any moment, I might hit a landmine hidden underneath the gleaming hardwood. Enough time had passed since Carson invited me that I had myself half convinced this was some sort of trap. It didn’t matter that Ethan was by my side or that we just came from Luigi’s where we shared a large pepperoni (of which Ethan ate eighty percent his weight in pizza dough and cheese). Nothing could ease the giant knot fisting in the center of my stomach.
Ethan groaned. “I can’t believe you talked me into coming to one of Carson’s parties. This is so lame.”
I ignored him as I bolstered my own courage and led the way through the foyer into the living room. Music played in the background, and about twelve other seniors mingled about, talking, and sipping from red plastic cups. I waved to a couple people, then turned back to Ethan. “It doesn’t look so bad.”
He shot me a skeptical look. “Tell me that w
hen you’re dared to go streaking through the neighborhood later.”
A surge of panic coursed through my veins. “Wait, they don’t actually do things like that, right?” I asked, but Ethan ignored me.
Despite being well-liked, it had been a while since I attended a party, so it felt a bit like shaking the rust off.
“Does he have anything to drink in here or what?” Ethan asked.
He made a beeline for the kitchen, and I hurried after him, only a little frightened at the image he put in my head. “No one would dare me to do that,” I said, unable to let it go. I still had this horrifying vision of being forced to streak in front of the class, and worse of all, in front of Carson.
“Really?” Ethan raised a brow. “You don’t think your arch nemesis would dare you to do something humiliating?”
I swallowed. It was like Ethan was inside my brain, verbalizing my fears. “Carson and I have been getting along lately.” Sorta. “Weren’t you just teasing me about it yesterday at school?”
He shrugged, which only annoyed me more. I grumbled and crossed my arms over my chest as Ethan helped himself to a beer and shoved a plastic cup of something fruity in my hand. When I gave it a sniff, my mouth watered. It smelled like strawberries and oranges. I took a healthy gulp and nearly barfed. “Ugh. This stuff is horrendous. What’s in here, cough syrup?”
“I’ve been told it’s Carson’s secret concoction. It loosens you up.”
“Wait. Loosen me up for what—”
“You came.” Carson appeared in the entryway to the kitchen, seemingly out of nowhere.
I snapped my mouth shut, my throat suddenly dry as I took in his somewhat rumpled appearance. He wore dark jeans and a long sleeve button-down shirt, which was untucked, rolled at the sleeves, and open at the neck to reveal a small triangle of tanned skin.
“You brought lil bro,” he said, eyeing Ethan as he drew closer. “You’re late. I thought maybe you’d chickened out.”
“Why would I chicken out?” I croaked. Then, calmer, I added, “We were just hanging out, catching dinner, and lost track of time.” I motioned to Ethan.
It was a lie. Our tardiness was entirely orchestrated because I hadn’t wanted to be one of the first ones there.
He nodded as if he understood, and when Ethan sidled up beside me, his gaze zoned in on us, scrutinizing as he glanced back and forth. “Right. Well, have fun,” he said, clinking his cup to mine. “Party games start in five.” Then he left, heading back into the living room.
“Wow. That was pretty civil,” Ethan said. “Maybe you guys have finally called a truce. See? Trying to strangle him worked to your advantage.”
I gave him a sidelong look, and he laughed, but I couldn’t help a little twinge of disappointment that Carson hadn’t stayed to chat longer.
“Hey, Ethan, what’s up, man?” Drake Brown, another junior, came up beside him, then offered him a fist-bump.
I sighed inwardly. Great. Drake was on the football team with Ethan, which meant if they stood there for any length of time, they’d start talking football and never stop.
“I’m glad I’m not the only junior here,” Drake added, then glanced down at me, needling me in the ribs. “I’m surprised to see you here though, after the basketball incident and everything,” he said, gesturing toward my eye.
