by Elicia Hyder
“Who wants some?” the guy in the overalls asked.
David’s hand shot up in the air.
A moment later, the man handed him a red cup with a swig of clear liquid in the bottom. Everyone was staring at him; David felt like a rockstar. He tipped the cup up to his lips, and the liquid burned like battery acid all the way down his throat. David gagged. Everyone cheered.
“Here! Drink this!” someone shouted, handing him a jug of orange juice.
David grasped the jug with both hands and chugged. The alcohol burn worsened. “David, put that down!” a girl yelled. Then two tiny hands jerked the jug away.
It was Rebecca Ashburn.
“David, that juice has vodka in it!”
“Rebecca!” he cheered, reaching for her.
She patted his back as he leaned on her. “Hello, David.”
“Oh my god, I’ve missed you!” He pressed a sloppy kiss to the side of her head. “Where have you been?”
“At college,” she answered. “What are you doing here?”
He pointed—somewhere. “I came with Journey. Oh my god. You have to come see her. She will be so excited you’re here!”
Rebecca laughed. “I doubt that.”
He draped his arm around her shoulders and stared down at her. “God, you’re hot.”
She patted his arm. “And you’re really drunk.”
“I know!” He nodded so hard he felt dizzy. “It’s awesome.” He cocked his head to the side as he looked at her. “Are you really drunk?”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
“We should fix that,” he said. “Bartender!”
She laughed. “David, there’s no bartender.”
“There should be.”
She tugged on his hand. “Come on, let’s find me a drink.”
“Yeah, let’s do that.”
· · ·
The New Year’s Eve party was in full swing when Steven followed Brian up the driveway toward the house. “If the party’s lame,” Brian was saying over his shoulder, “we won’t stay long. I’ve just got to make a drop, and then we can go.”
Steven groaned and rolled his eyes. He should have known this was a business deal for Brian. Nobody invited his older brother to parties because they enjoyed his company. The party looked promising, though, even from the driveway. There were girls in bikinis in the hot tub on the deck. Oh shit. Steven stopped walking.
“What are you doing?” Brian asked.
Steven hung his head. “Nothing. I’m coming.”
Journey Durant was leaning against the deck rails, smoking a cigarette.
Brian walked up the steps toward the front door and disappeared inside. Steven stood at the bottom of the stairs and stared at her until she looked down and caught him. Her mouth fell open. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and trudged up onto the deck.
She inhaled a long drag and blew it out slowly as he approached. She looked caught between wanting to cry and wanting to hit him.
“Hey,” he finally said.
Panic flashed through her eyes, and she slowly turned her back toward him. She leaned her elbows on the rail and rubbed her hand down her face.
“You’re not even going to talk to me?” he asked, stopping just behind her.
She looked out over the woods behind the house. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”
Unable to stop himself from touching her, he put his hand on her waist. “Come on, Journ. Don’t be like that.”
She looked over her shoulder. Tears sparkled in her eyes. “What the hell do you expect, Steven? It’s been months!”
He hung his head. “I know. I told you—”
She spun around and cut him off. “I know what you told me. I don’t need a reminder.” She shook her head. “Excuse me. I’ve got to go and find my date.”
He caught her around her waist. “Marcus Garrett?”
“Marcus?”
“I saw you with him in Atlanta,” he said.
She looked confused. “Atlanta? Are you following me?”
“No. I just saw you there.” She pushed his hand away and walked toward the door. He followed her. “Journey, please just talk to me.”
She stopped walking so suddenly that Steven slammed into her from behind. He followed the direction of her gaze up the steps. David Britton was being led upstairs by his ex-girlfriend. The expression on Journey’s face told Steven everything he needed to know. She was there with David, and David was hooking up with someone else. Steven decided to capitalize on the moment, and he took her hand. “I’m sorry, Journ.”
She looked back at him. Tears had spilt down her cheeks. She ripped her hand away. “Just leave me alone.” She turned and walked out the front door.
16
Drunk On Sunday
It had been over two months since David had woken up on New Year’s Day with Rebecca Ashburn and the worst hangover in the history of mankind. Journey had been gone when he stumbled down the stairs that morning, she’d already left home by the time he showed up to get his truck. He had apologized—a few times—but things were never really the same after that. All the ground he had gained in trying to have a real relationship with her had gone down the toilet along with all the leftover alcohol in his system that day.
Marcus was really the only winner in the whole situation. Journey had taken to hanging out at his house rather than at David’s, which he enjoyed rubbing in David’s face. Marcus found it pretty funny that, for once, he was the good guy, and Dave was the douchebag.
It wasn’t until the beginning of March that Journey seemed to have finally forgiven him. Justin was home on Spring Break from the college he was attending in Florida, and the whole group went out to lunch on Sunday afternoon. Kara clinked her fork against the side of her tea glass. “Attention, attention everyone!” she announced dramatically. “I have an announcement to make.” She giggled and looked at Journey. “Well, Journey has an announcement to make.”
Journey was rolling her eyes in the corner of the booth where she was sandwiched between Marcus and Kara. She put her napkin down on her plate and leaned her elbows on the table. “As you all know, Kara is forcing me to go to prom again this year.”
Marcus rubbed his hands together with a grin that David wanted to smack off his face.
“After much deliberation, I have decided”—she looked dramatically around the table—“to ask David Britton to be my date.”
David pointed at Marcus and laughed. “Boom, sucker!”
Marcus wadded up his napkin and launched it at David’s head.
Journey held up her hands. “Marcus, dear, you were a very close second.” She rested her head against his shoulder for a moment. “However, I did go to incredible lengths to ruin David’s senior prom, so it’s only fair that I allow him the opportunity to return the favor.”
David’s face would have broken if he were smiling any wider. “I am honored.”
She pointed at him. “You should be, you big idiot.”
Marcus covered his mouth with his hand, pretending to muffle his voice. “Just make sure you go home with the right girl, Dave.”
David stuck up his middle finger toward his friend.
Journey pointed at him. “Yeah. I’d better not see or hear a word about Rebecca Ashburn, or I promise, I will kill you.”
Everyone laughed.
David made an ‘x’ over his chest. “Cross my heart.”
Justin looked at Kara. “When is prom?” he asked.
“April 1st.” She pointed a long nail at him. “And you had better figure out how to get out of school and get back here to take me.”
He kissed her hand. “You know I will.”
When they left the restaurant, David draped his arm across Journey’s shoulders as they walked through the parking lot. “Come over and watch a movie with me tonight,” he said. “And you can pick the movie. We’ll watch anything you want.”
She laughed. “Thanks, but I’m going home.”
; He was skeptical. “You’re going home before sundown?”
She elbowed him in the ribs. “Shut up, Dave.”
“All right, but come over soon. We’ve got planning to do,” he said as she pulled away from him.
“I will. I promise.”
He smiled as she walked to her car.
April 1st, he thought. David had a month to plan the most unforgettable night of her life.
· · ·
“Hi, Mom,” Journey said when she walked into the house that evening.
Her mother looked at the clock and then back at Journey. “You’ve been home before curfew every night for weeks. Should I be worried?”
Journey laughed. “No.” She sat down next to her mother on the sofa. “Wanna hear some news?”
Carol put down the crossword puzzle she was working. “I would love to.”
“David’s going to take me to prom,” she said.
A smile spread across her mother’s face. “Oh really?”
Journey pointed at her. “Don’t get any crazy ideas. We’re still just friends.”
Her mother was skeptical. “Are you sure about that?”
“Positive.”
“Can we go dress shopping?” her mom asked.
Journey thought for a second. “Well, I was planning on going with Kara, but sure. Why not?”
Carol looked like she might cry. “I’ll clear my schedule and pull you out of class one day this week. How about it?”
Journey smiled. “Sounds like fun.”
Carol pulled off her glasses. “I have some news also. Good news and bad news.”
Journey folded her leg underneath her. “OK. What’s the good news?”
Her mother sucked in a deep breath. “Well, your father and I have been invited to a very prestigious convention for international art dealers.”
Journey nodded. “That sounds pretty cool. Where is it?”
“At the British Museum in London,” she answered.
“Very cool. That might be a business thing I wouldn’t mind tagging along for,” she said.
Her mother’s face was a clear mix of worry and surprise. “Well, that would be an option, but I’m afraid there’s also a downside.”
Journey was confused. “What’s the downside?”
Carol folded her hands in the prayer position under her chin. “Our flight leaves on May 27th.”
Slow realization washed over Journey. She tilted her head to the side in confusion. “But that’s my birthday. My eighteenth birthday.”
Her mother grimaced.
Journey covered her mouth with her hand. “And it’s my graduation.”
Carol hung her head. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
Journey smirked. “You’re just going to miss it? You’re going to miss one of the biggest days of my life for a bunch of pictures painted by dead people?”
Carol reached for her hand. “Journey, please don’t be—”
Journey had heard enough. She stood up. “No, I’m good. Don’t worry about it.” She picked up her keys again.
“Where are you going?” her mother asked.
“Out,” Journey said. “Don’t wait up.”
Journey’s eyes were swollen from crying by the time David opened the back door to his downstairs living room. He looked around her in confusion. “Hey, Journ. What are you doing here?”
“I changed my mind,” she said.
He was searching her eyes with alarm. “What’s the matter?” he asked, reaching for her hand.
Her chin began to quiver again, but she just shook her head. She didn’t know what to say. She honestly wasn’t a hundred percent sure why she was so upset.
“Come here.” He pulled her into his arms.
She buried her face in his t-shirt and sniffed. “Can I stay here tonight?”
He nodded against her head. “Of course you can.”
David slipped an arm around her shoulders as he guided her to his room. They sat down on the edge of his bed, and he held her hand. “You wanna talk about it?”
She wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “It’s so stupid.”
He shook his head. “I doubt that.”
“Did you know that I’ve come home to an empty house almost every single day since middle school?” she asked.
He nodded.
She pointed to the ceiling. “Your mom’s been here every time I’ve been over.”
“Yeah.”
She tapped her chest. “We don’t have home cooked meals unless I make them.”
He shrugged. “Your parents are pretty busy.”
She turned her palms over. “They’re so busy they’re going to miss my birthday and my graduation.”
He laughed. “Whatever.”
She pointed to her own face. “Does it look like I’m joking?”
“Surely you misunderstood,” he said.
“David, I didn’t misunderstand anything.”
He slumped and rested his elbows on his knees. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” She felt tears prickling the corners of her eyes again. “Why are they so surprised when I don’t come home? They never do.”
He put his arms around her when she began to cry again. “I’ll be there.” He pressed a kiss against her hair. “I’ll always be there.”
· · ·
Brian had been gone most of the weekend, but he finally came home on Sunday. He put a take-out pizza on the table and dropped his duffle bag on the floor by the kitchen.
Steven was on the couch, in sweatpants and socks, watching a show about tattooing. “How was Savannah?” Steven slurred as he tipped his seventh beer up to his lips.
Brian stopped and counted the bottles on the table before looking at his brother. “It was good. Are you drunk?”
Steven nodded. “Yep.”
Brian looked at his watch. “At four o’clock on a Sunday?”
Steven shrugged his shoulders. “Isn’t it kind of a rule that you’re supposed to get trashed on your twenty-first birthday?”
Brian clapped his hands together. “That’s right! Happy birthday, little brother!” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a joint. “This calls for a celebration.”
He fired up the joint and passed it across the couch. Steven studied it in his hand for a moment. “Thanks,” he said, void of any emotion.
There were three sharp knocks on the front door. “Emerson Police Department! We have a warrant!”
“Fuck!” Brian yelled and grabbed his bag. He took off running through the bedroom and slammed the door.
Steven, too drunk and stunned to move, was still holding the smoking joint when the cops kicked in the door and started screaming and waving guns around. He was thrown face first onto the carpet and put into handcuffs. Two more cops ran through the apartment, kicking in the bedroom door as well.
There goes my security deposit, was the only thought in Steven’s altered mind.
On the day after his twenty-first birthday, Steven Drake woke up in jail with a hangover and a simple possession drug charge. Brian hadn’t been so fortunate. He would be in prison for a very long time.
For almost a year, Steven had kept his distance from Journey to stay out of trouble, and he wound up there anyway. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. It would take a little time to clean up the mess he’d made, but he was determined to win her back as soon as he did.
17
Senior Prom
Kara stepped back with her eyeshadow brush in her hand and smiled down at Journey. “I’m so glad you picked that dress. It makes your eyes really pop.”
Journey studied the job Kara was doing with her makeup. She swiped a stray piece of glitter off her pink cheek. “It was David’s idea, actually. He said I should wear green, but I hate green, so I compromised with teal.”
“What did your mom say about it?” she asked, pinching the sides of the shimmery mermaid gown that showed Journey’s skin through the fabric.
Journey shook her h
ead. “She didn’t see it.”
Kara sighed and handed her a lipstick. “You two still haven’t made up?”
Journey groaned. “I don’t think we’ve spoken in a month.” Journey held up a finger. “No, that’s not true. She asked if I had sent in any college applications, and I told her I was waiting to hear from Oxford. I asked if she could stop by and check for me while they were in England.”
Kara scrunched up her nose. “So, they’re still going to Europe?”
“Yep,” Journey answered. She was desperate to change the subject. For once, she was actually looking forward to a formal night out. She didn’t want it ruined by her parental abandonment issues. “What time is it?”
Kara looked at the time on her cell phone. “It’s 5:45.”
“The boys are supposed to be here at six, right?”
Kara nodded. “Yep. Dinner is at seven.” Her phone buzzed. She looked at the screen. “It’s David,” she said, handing Journey her phone.
Journey pressed the answer button and cleared her throat. She mustered up her best Jersey accent. “Billy’s Meat Market. Nobody beats our meat. How may I direct your call?”
“Very funny,” David said.
She smiled. “I thought so. What’s up?”
“You’re going to kill me.”
She put a hand on her hip. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not.” There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “I wasn’t able to get out of work in time to pick up my tux.”
Journey looked at Kara. “Are you serious?” she asked him.
“I wouldn’t joke about this,” he said. “I got busy at work, and the tux place closes at five. I’m sitting in their parking lot now.”
Her mouth fell open. “You’re not a brain surgeon, Dave! You work at a hardware store! How could you forget?”
He sighed. “Well, Rebecca stopped by and we started talking—”
“You what?” she shrieked.
Kara’s eyes doubled in size. “What’s going on?” she whispered.
“I’m sorry!” David’s voice was filled with panic. “Please, Journ. I didn’t realize they closed so early. I even tried to call the owner of the shop at home and beg him to reopen. I’m so, so sorry.”