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Jackson has been drinking a lot. I want to think it’s just normal college guy stuff, but I’m growing worried that it may run deeper than that.
He’s been off all year, and I wish I didn’t know the probable reason behind it.
I scroll through my Instagram feed, seeing all my friends from back home having the time of their lives at Eric Cline’s pre-college rager since his parents have never cared about us drinking there. However, I’m stuck in Florida for two weeks because my parents can’t entertain the thought of skipping one summer.
Switching to the search bar, I fight and ultimately lose to the urge to look up Viv’s Instagram in hopes of seeing what she’s been up to. We haven’t spoken in eight months and it’s killing me. Despite this, I can’t get myself to reach out. She completely wrecked Jackson, but I’d be lying if I said her breaking his heart was why I told her I didn’t want to be friends anymore.
She chose him, even if she swore that wasn’t what she did. Genevieve knew that her and Jackson breaking up was always going to be a possibility and that our friendship would hang in the balance. Yet, she did it anyway, showing me that she was willing to choose Jackson over me.
Everyone chooses Jackson over me, and I don’t need that in a best friend.
My impulse wins as I scroll through Viv’s feed, not seeing many pictures at all except for one from freshman orientation. Mine is in a few weeks and I can’t wait to get away from my parents, nor can I wait for school to begin in the fall. My mom isn’t exactly thrilled that I’m choosing to go to school for a Bachelor of Arts in Theatre.
She’s never gotten it…or me.
I enlarge the image to find Viv grinning ear to ear and plastered to the side of a petite redhead, the photo captioned with the words “Found my roomie!”
It shouldn’t hurt to see her moving on and finding new friends, but it does.
Liam runs around the pool, his legs barely kicking up a splash of water, so fast it seems as if he’s ice skating. His dark brown hair is damp, sticking to his forehead in wet strands. He cannonballs into the pool without warning, causing water to splash high, getting me wet in the process. Luckily, I have anOtterBox on my phone or I would be punching him for his stupidity. I settle for yelling instead.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!”
He looks over to me with a smirk on his face and doesn’t respond. Typical Liam.
As he pulls himself up from the cool water of the pool, I admire the way the droplets cling to his skin, slowly sliding down and collecting in the crevices of his toned muscles. Something changed in Liam over the last year. He left for college the same scrawny nerd I’ve known for my entire life and came back…not that.
I scrunch my nose up at the fact that I allowed myself to even think something like that.
Liam walks directly over to me. I expect him to say something shitty or tell me to stop being such a girl about it and that I shouldn’t be sitting next to the pool if I don’t want to get wet, but he takes it one step further. He doesn’t say a word as he hangs his head over me and shakes it aggressively from side to side so that the water soaking his hair flies haphazardly all over me and my phone.
“Asshole!” I scream, causing Jackson to turn his head, but the moment he sees it is a reaction to Liam, he turns back to his phone.
This bro loyalty thing is getting old.
I jump up from my chair to go inside, walking past Jackson en route. “Try being a good brother for once!”
This pries his attention from his phone for a moment. “Oh please, I’m a great brother. But I’ve lived enough years on this earth to not get involved in—” he points to me and Liam, “that.”
Liam and Jackson’s friendship has always perplexed me.How my brother could be friends with someone so annoying and so unlike him is beyond me.
I yank the sliding screen door to the side, dripping water as I walk into the kitchen. It could be worse; I could have been thrown into the pool, but the water on me boils my blood just the same. Hurriedly, I run up the stairs and change, thankful that my hair was already up in a bun, so the damage to it is minimal.
People should be arriving soon, much to my dismay. Our parents are gone for one night and having a party with such little time to clean up feels risky. However, Jackson and Liam seem confident that it will work out. Worst case scenario, I pretend I went to bed, took a large dose of melatonin, and slept through the entire fiasco.
Not that they’d believe that.
The banister creaks under my hand as I carefully walk down the staircase after getting ready. My loose bun is now in a more polished topknot. I opted to trade my denim shorts and tank top for something a bit more party-ready: my brand-new yellow dress. It is tighter than the clothes I typically wear, but is part of my “New Town, New Hannah” wardrobe for the fall. Despite the clothing change, the scent of chlorine lives rent-free on me, more than likely until I take a shower.
As soon as I get down to the main floor, I hear the music playing from the backyard. The scent of chlorine heightens as I step out onto the concrete pad around the pool, where the chairs are now pushed to one side to allow room for people to move and mingle. My eyes dart around to see a variety of faces I know, and some that I don’t.
A head of dark brown curls steps into view. I would simply ignore the person impacting my view of the party, but as she turns around, my breath catches in my throat.
I don’t know her, but I want to desperately.
Her sea-foam-green eyes meet my own with a grin, pulling a matching smile from my lips. Most of the girls Liam and Jackson invited are regulars in the area; some of them live here. However, this girl I can honestly say I’ve never seen before.
“Hi,” she says with a grin, not being immediately forthcoming with her identity.
