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I kept pushing and she let me get away with murder. She didn’t want to fight me. She didn’t want a reason for us to argue. It’s the guilt that does that. Either that or the shame.
“I have to go, Mom,” I tell her as I watch the leaves on the trees behind my house gently sway with the wind. It wasn’t until I moved in with my grandmother that my mom admitted our relationship was strained. She likes to pretend, but I don’t have the strength for that. Or maybe it’s the other way around.
“Well, call me,” she tells me hurriedly before I can hang up. “If you need anything.”
“I will,” I answer, although that’s not going to happen. I already know that and I’m sure she does too. “Thank you for the furniture,” I add. “I really appreciate it.”
“You don’t already have anything, do you?” she asks me. “It didn’t seem like you packed much.”
“No, I didn’t. Thank you.”
I end the call as fast as I can. I know Mom wants to talk. But she’s saying all the wrong things.
Then again, I am too.
I’m holding back; I know that much is true.
I know what I need to do, but it hurts to think about it. It’s going to change everything, and I don’t know who I’ll be after it happens.
And that’s what scares me the most. When this is over, I don’t know what will be left.
DEAN
Foam spills over the rim of the red Solo cup as I fill it. It falls into the bucket with the rest of the spilled beer.
The last time I had a drink from a keg was at a party for my uncle’s company. He’s in construction and so was I until I got set up with Jack Henderson, Kev’s uncle and my uncle’s friend. That beer was in celebration of hard work. This beer is just because we can drink all night and not give a shit.
And it’s the first of many to come. Cheers to that.
I down the cold beer and put my cup back under the spigot to fill it up again.
A pretty little thing sidles up next to me, letting out a small laugh when she bumps her ass on my thigh. Like it was an accident and she was just reaching for the corkscrew on the countertop in front of us.
“My bad,” she says with a smile and throws her hair over her shoulder as she grabs the corkscrew. She looks back at me one more time as she walks away in her tight faded jeans and tank top that rides up, showing off the tramp stamp on the small of her back. It’s a tribal design around a rosebud. Probably something she picked off the wall of the tattoo shop.
“No problem,” I tell her and take another sip as she walks off. She’s cute but the one girl I want to see hasn’t come through the front door. I’ve been sitting here all night long, the beer right next to me. My back’s against the counter as I face the front door watching everyone shuffle in and out, with the night sky getting darker, the music louder and everyone in here drinking more and more.
James’s family house is the perfect location for these parties. Right off campus and it’s within walking distance to the dorms but also the frat and sorority housing. All you have to do is follow the train tracks up the block and it leads you right here. Walking on the railroad tracks isn’t the best thing to do when you’re drunk, but at least you can’t take a turn down the wrong street.
Just as I down the rest of the beer and think about heading to the pool room in the back, the front door opens and in walks Allison. Her pouty lips are pulled into a curious smile as she tucks her clutch under her arm and closes the door. I like how she leans against the door, taking in the place before pushing off and heading this way.
My eyes follow her, waiting for the moment when she sees me. Her hips sway in the most tempting rhythm as she glances over her shoulder, moving the hair behind her ear and exposing more of her neck. With her black dress and red lips, she’s elegantly beautiful, but it’s tainted.
By the way she walks.
By the expression on her face.
By the way she halts, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip and looking me up and down. I smirk as she lets her eyes roam and then stalks toward me.
“You’re late,” I tell her and that only makes her laugh.
“I come when I’m ready,” she says in a sultry voice. She eyes the keg and then where I’m standing, which is right in the fucking way.
I’m only an observer as she takes a cup off the counter and then slips between me and the keg, settling her ass right against my dick. She takes her time, bending over as much as she can while she fills her cup.
My dick stiffens and the second it does, she winks over her shoulder at me.
Taking a sip of beer, she scoots out from between me and the keg and then turns to face me. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d walked right out of the kitchen, leaving me hanging again.
