AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Brody,” Adrien says warningly, stepping between me and Brody as if he’s my knight in shining armor. I don’t know why, but that irritates me. I can handle my own fights. I don’t need to be saved.
“Fine,” I say while stepping around Adrien. I stalk toward Brody and swipe the ping pong ball from his hand before taking my place opposite him. “One game, but,” I add sternly and nod toward Mark, “your little minion over here will be taking my drinks.”
Brody scoffs and rolls his eyes once more. “What is it with you and drinking? Are you a raging alcoholic? Is that it?”
My face heats and my heart drops to my stomach.Is my secret out?I wonder while looking around at the small group. Evelyn, Amanda, and Charlotte are ignoring us. A few other teammates are walking toward the table of food. Only Adrien meets my gaze, but I don’t see any pity gleaming back at me, only anger.
“I’m not,” I say, my voice soft, my tone uncertain.I’m much more than an alcoholic,I think, while grimacing at the grass surrounding the beer pong table.I’m an addict.But I can’t say that in front of my teammates and the journalists. That would be career suicide.
“Well, I’m not drinking your fucking beer,” says Mark while siding close to Brody. He crosses his arms and stares back at me with that dumb look on his face that makes me think his brain ran away a long time ago.
“I will,” says Adrien while stepping next to me.
“How is that fair?” Brody asks.
“Two against two,” says Adrien. “I think that’s quite fair.”
“But Hunter isn’t drinking. He’ll be the only sober one of the group.”
Adrien smirks. “My house, my rules.”
Brody scoffs while Mark rolls his eyes, but neither one of them has more to say. I face off against Brody, angling my ball for the middle cup. “Three, two, one,” we count down together before shooting. My ball bounces off the rim and goes into the grass while Brody’s nosedives into the first cup.
“Yes!” Mark shouts while giving Brody a high five.
Brody meets my gaze, watching me as I push the ping-pong out of the cup and hand it over to Adrien. “Well, I guess it won’t be so bad,” says Brody, “given that you royally suck.”
We do royally suck. The first game I only got one ball in the cup while Adrien’s kept bouncing off the rim. I haven’t played in so long. It makes sense I couldn’t quite aim, but I thought the second game would get better given all the practice I received during the first.
No.
It did not.
Apparently, Brody and his goons are avid partiers. I think they would even beat Seth and Lucas if they ever had the chance to meet. No, the second game was by far the worst I had ever played. Brody and Mark had been going easy on us the first game. The second, they were brutal. They landed a shot each and every time. Adrien barely had any time to finish his beer before he had to drink the next.
I glance at Adrien, watching him grab the table to keep himself from falling over. His cheeks are flushed, his nose bright red and reminding me of a certain red-nose reindeer, his eyes are each looking in a different direction, and I don’t think I’ve heard him speak during the entire second game.
“I think I need water,” he slurs while brushing past me. I notice his pace quickens, his hand flying to his mouth as he runs past his fiancée and into the kitchen.
“Good game.” Brody laughs while throwing an arm over my shoulders, pulling me close so I can smell the beer on his breath.
My stomach churns with something I haven’t felt in a long while, that smell bringing back memories of late nights, laughing with my friends, doing stupid shit like jumping on police cars and skinny dipping in an ice-cold lake. Evelyn and Charlotte are laughing in the background while Amanda smacks her leg, wine spilling from her glass. Several of the other guys have beers in their hands, some talking, others playing flip cup. My hands tremble with need, my tongue suddenly feeling parched. I need to get out of here before I do something stupid, something I will regret.
“Here,” says Brody while handing me a Miller Lite.
I take it tentatively, feeling the chill aluminum slide over my palm. I gaze down at the blue letters, knowing I should throw the can away or hand it back, but my fingers tighten around it.I have an appointment with Dr. Forrester tonight,I remind myself, but I’m not putting the can down. Why? Why is it all I want to do right now, in this moment, is have a little taste? It’s all I can think about: feeling the press of the can on my lips, the bitter liquid rolling down my throat, the tension in my shoulder ebbing away, the sweet, addictive bliss of no longer caring.
“No one is looking,” says Brody with a shrug. “I won’t tell anyone you broke your whole detox month thing. One night isn’t going to kill you anyway.”
Those words repeat over and over in my head. A dark voice inside me whispers,Listen to him. He’s right. It won’t kill you. It’s only one night.But it’s not just one night. This beer won’t be the only one. It will lead into several more. It will be several more nights. I can’t fall off the wagon. Not now.But you miss it, don’t you?The dark whispers slide over my ears, and I watch as the can comes closer to my face, as my fingers reach to open it.You’ve been so stressed. You’ve worked so hard, and for what? For this? For feeling so alone, so isolated? Your friends back home don’t care. They have their own lives. They will never know. No one needs to ever know. It’s only one night.
“Why are you detoxing anyway?” Brody asks. “You want to look good for your girlfriend? Is that it?”
“You could say that,” I mutter.
Brody chuckles while running a hand through his hair. “Does she know how many hours we train? Does she know we practically live at the gym?
“One night isn’t going to wreck that six pack of yours,” Mark says while patting my shoulder. “Besides, you’re always walking around like you have a stick up your ass.”
