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“’Kay,” Brooks agrees. His eyes meet mine across the flames, and I quickly drop my gaze down at the pine needles littering the ground. “I was born on Halloween. I’m left-handed. I’ve only slept with one girl.”
There are a couple of giggles following that last one. Brooks looks over and winks toward the titters before focusing on Finn.
It’s where everyone else is looking too. Finn is on the other team, and he’s the only one who has known Brooks for longer than a day. It makes sense that he’ll be the one who guesses.
But Holden is the one who answers. “First one is a lie,” he says, then swigs from the can he’s holding.
Mark rolls his eyes. “We’re supposed to discuss it as a team before you answer.”
“Was I wrong?”
Tension hums through the still air as Holden and Brooks stare at each other.
“No,” Brooks answers. “That’s right.”
“One girl, man?” Finn laughs. “Come on…”
Guffaws and whispers swirl around in the night air.
Brooks shrugs, unbothered. “Wanted it to mean something.”
My gaze moves to the interior of my cup. Something he and I have in common that probably isn’t a popular viewpoint among people our age.
It’s definitely not something Holden and I have in common.
I’ve never asked for exact details—who, what, or where—about Holden’s experience before he and I got together, but we grew up in the same town. Attended the same schools. Had the same classmates.
So, I have a pretty good idea.
And I thought I’d accepted it. Thought I got past it a long time ago.
But right now it burns like a cut that scabbed over but never fully healed, reminding me the wound is there.
Maybe it’s the alcohol.
Maybe it’s that I’m feeling incredibly insecure right now and a reminder of our differences isn’t helping.
I wastherethe whole time. If he loves me the way he claims to, why did it take me grinding on him in a driveway to set off the chain of dominos that ended with us in a committed relationship?
And maybe it wouldn’t still bother me if I was fully confident in us.
But I’m not. Not right now.
Our different pasts feel like proof of how uneven our relationship was. Is. I’m not sure which tense is proper right now.
Camila goes next. She’s one of Grace’s good friends. She’s also sitting on the other side of Holden, so I avoid looking at her as she shares her three sentences. No one on my team asks me for my opinion on her lie, so I focus my attention on draining the rest of my cup instead.
My stomach is churning, my skin warm and tingly from all the vodka I’ve knocked back. I don’t drink alcohol very often,so my tolerance is probably somewhere right aroundextremely low.
I’m stuck here.
It’s dark and late, an hour plus drive back to Pembrooke.
Not to mention, I’m drunk.
So, the best solution seems to be to keep drinking. The next time the pitcher gets passed around, I top my cup off once again.
Jordan is the next one to go. Since he’s on my team, I don’t have to participate.
