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CHAPTER EIGHT
APRIL 2012
Ididn’t know much about Emma—or Drew, for that matter, but as Sean pulled into her parents’ house, I knew one thing: Emma’s parents were fucking loaded.
Emma told us before we left D.C. to park in the driveway behind Drew. Her parents were in bed and they didn’t care what we did as long as we weren’t devastatingly loud. It was the opposite of my house. Her parents had money and it showed. My parents spent their “disability” and “unemployment” checks on drugs. Shit, they hadn’t bought me a thing since I started high school. Emma’s parents didn’t care if we had fun, but my parents would knock my teeth out if I brought one friend home.
Envy curled its way down my chest and settled in between my ribs. I didn’t like the feeling, and begged it away as I jumped down and out of Sean’s van. His one night whatever—stand? Hookup? I didn’t know—came with us and was allowed to ride shotgun.
Emma and Drew got out of his dinged up black Camry and smiled back at me. Drew motioned for me to follow them, and I did. Ronnie and Sean were bickering about something, so I left them behind. Emma led us to the side of the massive, two-story colonial, down a couple of steps, and up to a side door. I could barely see anything in the dark, but I imagined Emma and Drew had done this enough that they could find their way.
I heard a faint click and Drew grabbed my elbow to guide me forward. He steered me inside of the warm house right as Emma flicked on a light.
My jaw dropped. “Whoa.”
“My parents hadn’t used the space in forever, so they let me take it over. I sleep in here most nights.” She laughed. “I think it used to be an office or something?” Emma shrugged and made her way over to a kitchen area which held a full bar.
The room was as big as the trailer I lived in. I was envious all over again but pushed the feeling down as I took in the walls covered in band posters, the maroon drum set in the back corner, and several luxurious leather couches set up in a “C” formation around a flat screen TV. There were several Bohemian style rugs overlapped on top of each other across the floor. Emma turned on a few dim lights—one of which was a lava lamp—and then turned off the fluorescent overhead light. She reached into a drawer of a small table by the door and brought out a stick of incense. She lit it with a small box of matches, then slumped down on one of the couches right as the others made their way inside.
“Oh, shit,” Goth Girl muttered as soon as she walked in. The look on her face must have been like mine.
As predicted, the other two people Drew and Emma were at the concert with had decided to go home, so it was just the six of us. Sean and Ronnie came in behind Goth Girl. Sean whistled and took off his jacket, wafting the strong scent of ganja throughout the room. Ronnie, who never said too much, even commented, “This place is cool as hell.”
Drew looked at me almost as if he was embarrassed and I didn’t know why. The others sat on the couches as Emma brought up her music app and turned on a playlist. Immediately, the music came on via surround sound.
“Drinks?” Drew asked the group.
“Vodka tonic,pleeasseee?” Emma asked with a giggle. Drew gave her a curt nod. I couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t smile down at her.
“Beer?” Ronnie asked.
“Yeah, I think there’s some Corona in the fridge.”
“I’ll come help you,” I said. I needed water, anyway. I still had a small buzz, and knew I needed to hydrate before I drank more.
I followed Drew into the small kitchen and bar in the corner of the room.
“Can I get a cup for water?” I asked while he rummaged through the fridge. He gave me a lopsided smirk which made my stomach tumble, then pointed to one of the cabinets. I opened it and took out a disposable Solo cup and filled it with tap water. I chugged the whole thing and filled it up again as Drew set a few beers on the granite countertop beside me.
“You mind getting out a couple more of those for me?” he asked.
I set my cup down and got two more cups. Drew went over to the bar and looked through the various liquor bottles. He came back and stood beside me with a bottle of Grey Goose. Instead of asking me to move from the sink, he simply leaned over me and poured himself a cup of water. Like me, he chugged it and then refilled it.
He smelled like bourbon mixed with aftershave and a hint of cedar. When he pulled back from me, it felt like something was missing. The strange feeling of longing was unsettling.
Drew dropped a few ice cubes in the third cup and proceeded to make his girlfriend’s drink. I could have taken the beers over to the others, but I didn’t want to leave him alone.
“So, um,” I cleared my throat and tried to be casual. “How long have you and Emma been together?”
Drew shrugged. “A few months. We’ve been friends far longer than that, though.” He warily looked behind us at Emma. She was laughing at something, and Sean had a shit-eating grin decorated on his face.
Drew lowered his voice. “Honestly, I liked it better when we were just friends.” He shook his head as if he wished what he was saying wasn’t true. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” he laughed quietly. “I barely know you, but I feel like I could tell you anything for some reason.” His milk chocolate eyes met mine, and one corner of his mouth tipped up in a small smile.
I laughed awkwardly and looked away. “Yeah, I get what you mean.”
Drew sighed after a drawn out moment. “Anyways—I have plans of ending things with Emma,” he confided barely above a whisper.
I nodded and wanted to ask more, but figured I’d wait. “How’d you guys meet?”
