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I follow him and roll my eyes when he doesn’t so much as even attempt to close the door behind him. I don’t either. It’s not my house, so what do I care? I care, I just don’t want to be left behind.
My eyes are big and bright as I take everything in. Oh no, I definitely haven’t been to a party like this one before.
Everyone is dancing—well, more like grinding on each other—and most of them have drinks in their hands. Some of them are still dressed in their grass skirts and whatever else it is that they were forced to wear to the luau. But the majority of them have switched out of their work attire and are now wearing their normal summer clothes.
I definitely stick out a bit in my expensive cover-up, but I don’t care. They are all too tipsy and enjoying themselves too much to notice or care about little ole me.
I follow my new friend to a table off to the side of the living room that’s covered in bottles of booze and promptly dump my bag of ice down onto the table. The undersides of my poor abused arms are bright red and slightly numb.
My buddy unceremoniously dumps his bags onto the table beside mine and rubs at his forearms. His are a deeper red than mine, and they look angry. Geez, where had he carried them from? There are golf carts he could have used. Maybe he has never heard of “work smarter, not harder.”
I open my mouth to tease him when a disgruntled voice cuts me off. “What’sshedoing here?”
Woodenly, I turn and look right into Drew’s hostile gray eyes. He looks pissed.
Again, what did I ever do to him to make him so upset with me?
“She’s here with me,” my new friend says as he smirks at Drew.
Drew opens his mouth—likely to say something that’s going to make me want to run to my room so I can cry all by my lonesome—when I open my mouth and say the dumbest thing possible. “I carried a bag of ice.”
Drew stares at me as if I have a screw loose, and I scrunch my eyes closed in mortification. Could I possibly be any lamer at this moment? I open my eyes and am not surprised in the slightest to find my new friend grinning down at me, his eyes alight with humor.
Just great.
Awesome.
“Whatever,” Drew snaps. “She’s your responsibility while she’s here, Jamie. If her mommy and daddy find out, that shit’s on you.”
He yanks a beer out of a bucket, gives me a severe look that bounces right off of me because really,screw him,and turns to storm off. I thought Drew was the nicest of the three, but I guess I was wrong. Or did something happen between yesterday, when he took care of my splinter, and now?
My eyes drop down to his behind as the crowd swallows him up and he’s lost to me. He’s got agreatbehind.
One down, two to go. My odds tonight are not looking good.
“What’s your name?” Jamie asks me. He picks up a bag of ice, tears it open, and dumps the whole thing into the bucket of beer.
“Greer.” I purposely leave off my last name, and when he arches an eyebrow in question, I sigh. “Manning. My name is Greer Manning.”
His eyes widen as his lips part momentarily. “As in Mr. Manning’s daughter? The boss man himself?”
My shoulders slump as I nod my head dejectedly. I know this means he’s not going to want to be friends with me after finding this news out. Apparently my last name makes me a leper to these people.
“Huh.” He whistles low under his breath. “You’re nothing like the other one. No offense, but your sister is kind of a bitch. She’s already earned herself quite the reputation amongst the staff here.”
That makes me sad to hear, but I’m really not surprised by it. This summer I’m learning just what a bitch my sister really is, and it breaks my heart because I don’t think she and I will ever have the relationship I always wanted to have with her one day. Now I know that day will never come.
“Come on, Greer. Let’s grab a beer and go out back.”
I don’t question him, and I’m utterly grateful and relieved that he didn’t tell me to get lost.
Finally, someone around here who’s just going to be nice to me. Perhaps his mood swings and multiple personalities will start showing later.
I take the beer he hands me and unscrew the cap. He takes the cap from me and flicks it onto the table along with his own.
He takes hold of my hand, and I follow along behind him through a small, crowded kitchen and out a screened door. The door bangs shut behind us, and he drags me along with him to a weathered picnic table. I climb up top and take a seat beside him.
I sip from my beer, forgetting how bad it tasted the last time I tried it, and find myself pleasantly surprised by how much I don’t actually hate it. The label says Blue Moon,and I file that away in my memory bank for later as I take a large gulp.
