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“Brett,” I say in greeting.We’re not friends, but we hang around in the same circles.
Alex just stares, grinding his teeth, which causes Marisol to inch closer to Jasmine. They giggle under their breaths, thinking our brotherly protectiveness is funny.
“Jace, how’s it going?” Brett has the nerve to lean over and wrap his arm around Jasmine’s waist. She’s intoxicated, not giving two shits who have their hands on her.
“¡Vámonos!” Alex says, telling Marisol we’re leaving. Before I can tell Brett to get his hands off my sister, Alex slides his way between them and takes Jasmine away. Even Brett seems confused as to what’s happening.
Jasmine leans into Alex and smiles up at him, ruffling his hair. His hard facade cracks for a moment, softening, and smiling down at her. Marisol waits patiently next to them, looking way less inebriated than my sister. I can’t stop myself from looking at her tight pants, then making my way up to the white shirt she’s wearing, which lifts her breasts up and out. Finally, I reach her face and notice she’s staring directly at me.
My eyes widen and I panic, but as soon as I see her cheeks turn pink, I can’t stop the smirk that crosses my lips, letting her know that I’m totally checking her out.
Jasmine’s voice breaks through my fog. “Bye… sorry, I can’t remember your name.” She’s hollering over the music to Brett as Alex practically carries her towards the front door, Marisol now hot on his heels.
I turn to Brett. “Later.”
I leave before he answers, catching up with the others before Alex can get Jasmine to the car. Her words drift to me before I turn the corner of the house to the driveway.
“Why are we leaving?” she slurs. “I thought we were having so much fun with Brad.”
I chuckle as I jog the last few feet to where they’re standing. Jasmine can’t remember Brett’s name, and that shit cracks me up. He’s always bragging about the girls he gets, and he thinks his shit doesn’t stink, so it’s hilarious that my sister can’t remember his name.
“I already told you,” Alex says, exasperated, as he opens the back door with one hand. “You’ve had too much to drink, and you don’t need to hang out with assholes like Brad.” He mimics Jasmine’s voice.
“Okay, Alex, whatever you say,” she giggles.
“If you’re going to do whatever I say, then I’m telling you to get in the car.” He laughs as he aims her toward the backseat. “There you go, hop in.”
And she does, right into the back seat, almost bouncing off onto the floor. Her laugh is contagious, and pretty soon, we’re all laughing with her.
Alex closes the door and turns to me, rolling his eyes. “I think she may have had too much fun tonight.”
“She’s going to regret it in the morning, that’s for sure. Come by and rub it in tomorrow.”
Once we’re all loaded up, we head home. It’s around one in the morning. The Navarro’s are lenient with curfew, but our parents are a different story. I’d bet money they don’t even know we’re gone. Margret never notices when we’re home or not unless she’s in the mood to gloat over me in front of others. Our dad comes to our practices when he can but still has to work late and always assumes we’re already in our rooms, too tired to come and see for himself.
I get Jasmine up to her room with little effort. Alex offered to help, but she’s light enough for me to carry if I need to. In the end, she’s able to walk on her own, barely, then flops on her bed.
After finishing with her, I make it to my room and flip on the TV, then I dig into my two bags of goodies. I skim through the channels until I find Alien with Sigourney Weaver. I secretly have a thing for her. She’s such a badass in these movies. As she gets her alien ass-kicking groove on, I kick my shoes off and get ready for bed, stripping down to my boxers.
I lay my smorgasbord of snacks out in front of me, my hand hovering over the top of them as I watch the screen. They’re about to discover a lair of alien eggs. Even though I’ve already seen it several times, possibly hundreds, I’m always sucked right in. I pick up my Milk Duds slowly, waiting for the inevitable one egg to open, when my cell phone goes off.
Not my proudest moment, but I scream. It’s a very manly scream, but a scream, nonetheless. My hand jerks sharply to the right, sending my Milk Duds flying out of their newly opened pack, crackling on the floor throughout my room.Cussing under my breath—them being by far my most favorite candy—I search for my phone.
I’d forgotten that I turned the ringer on high so I could hear it at the party. Who the hell is texting me at two in the morning?
I click my phone to see Marisol’s face pop up on my screen. My heart gives a hard thump as I read her message.
Just wanted to check on Jasmine. You get her to bed okay?
I’m blinding myself with the glare of light on my phone. Calm down, I scold myself. This is Marisol. You’ve known her your entire life.
My fingers hit the keys before I know what I’m doing. Ripley is completely forgotten for the moment.
She’s good. Got her to bed, no problem. How are youfeeling?
I smile at my phone. She didn’t look as bad off as Jasmine, but she’d been drinking too.
Good, lol. I didn’t drink near as much as Jaz.
