by C. Shell
With my brother’s weight no longer pressing down on my chest, I’m finally able to take a full breath. Shielding my eyes from the sun shining through the thin tree branches above me, I push myself to a sitting position and begin the task of dusting myself off. Noticing the multitude of marks and stains amongst my clothing, I silently curse my brother knowing full well that my mother is going to have my head when I get home.
As I stand, Dex pushes off the tree and slides up next to me. “You’re getting better at fighting him off. He might be larger, but you’re much faster. Not bad for a girl.”
I blink at his words, surprised by the simple compliment and the way it warms me from head to toe. Twisting the hem of my dress in a nervous fashion, I spare him a small smile. My voice wavers as I speak. “Umm…Thanks.”
Dex stares at me for a long moment. His brows are wrinkled in thought and, by the way, his mouth keeps dipping into a frown, it appears that something is bothering him. He looks mad, which makes absolutely no sense, but then again, nothing ever does with these boys.”
Shrugging off the odd silence between us, I look up at the tree standing tall beside us to the makeshift clubhouse sitting high upon its branches. For weeks now the boys have been skirting away from me, gone for hours at a time while coming back sweaty, dirty, and tired.
I tried time and time again to follow them. I knew they were up to something, and I wanted to be a part of it. To my disappointment, they always found a way to lose me along the way. They can be crafty when they put their heads together. Their luck ran out when I went exploring by myself today and found them in a field behind our house hammering away. They’ve used old boards and planks to make the outer walls of what is now the CW secret headquarters. The name sounds lame, but then again what do you expect from a bunch of immature boys.
Jimmie yells down from the tree house catching our attention and ending the awkward standoff between Dex and I. “Are you two coming up or what? We only have a few hours left before Mom will be expecting us home. She is cooking spaghetti and meatballs tonight. I don’t want to be late for that.”
I glance at my brother, a smile stealing my face. “Of course, that would be your favorite. You’re the biggest meatball of them all.”
Dex gives a snort as he pushes his blonde hair out of his eyes. His hair has been getting longer over the past few weeks. Every time I tell him he needs a haircut, he just shrugs and says maybe later. I’m starting to think that Later is just another way of saying, Never happening.
I can’t help but glance a look at his face. Dex has pretty eyes. They are the same clear light blue color as my old Cabbage Patch Doll. He hates me comparing his eyes to that of a doll, so I try to keep that fact to myself. Unless of course, he makes me mad, then I mention it as often as possible. I even made-up a funny song about their resemblance once when he stole my television remote so I couldn’t watch the teen music awards.
Pink was singing that night. Nobody gets in between Pink and me.
Gripping the wobbly rope ladder, I began my climb. It isn't until I am halfway up and hear Dex make an odd choking sound below me that I realize my mistake. My very big, very embarrassing, and utterly stupid mistake.
I am wearing a freaking dress today.
With my cheeks reddening to that of a tomato, I narrow my eyes on the smirking boy below and give him what I can only describe as the look of death. “Dexter Jamison Lohmann you better stop looking up my dress this instant, or I swear I will roast your balls till they turn crispy and fall off.”
A snort of loud laughter billows from above seconds before I hear feet rushing to the small opening of the clubhouse. My brother Jimmie is the first to stick his head out. Unlike Nate who is still hooting his glee to the world, my brother’s face is twisted with anger. His eyes skim past me before landing solidly on Dex.
“What the hell dude? Stop looking at my sister like that.”
I don’t like the tone of my brother’s voice. He is usually the carefree one out of the two of us and hearing him now angry over something that involves me, makes my heart sink. My stomach flutters with nerves as I sprint up that stupid ladder, my hands gripping the thick strands of rope hard enough to leave behind irritated, red blisters on my palms.
“No reason to get pissy, Jim. If it were anyone besides your sister, you would have peeked too. It’s not every day a guy looks up to the sky and instead of seeing clouds he gets an eyeful of Jelly Beans.”
“Jelly Beans?” Nate inquires, his brows raised high.
“Yeah,” Dex laughs. “Just looking at her ass gave me a sweet tooth.”
“Seriously dude, stop talking about my sister,” my brother pleaded. “I’m going to have nightmares about killer Jelly Beans now.”
If possible, I become redder the more they talk. Slumping down against the back wall of the clubhouse, I bury my face in my hands and try to block out their laughter. I’m mortified. I will never forgive my mom for buying me jelly bean decorated panties. I didn’t plan to ever wear them, but then I forgot to do my laundry, and they were the only clean underpants I had left. No one was ever supposed to see them, let alone my brother and his friends.
I hate these boys.
I don’t understand why they go out of their way to torment me.
I grit my teeth as I hear Dex’s feet scuffle against the wood flooring as the boys help him inside. With my eyes squinted shut and my face hidden from everyone I silently pray for everyone to leave me alone.
The boards around me squeak in protest as someone sinks beside me. I’m nervous to see who it is but considering I’m in a shaky treehouse, over twenty feet in the air with no easy way down, hiding from them is fruitless. If I’ve learned anything from hanging out with these boys, it’s that fear is never welcome in their circle. Showing fear is like waving a red flag to a crazy bull. They take it as a sign of weakness and when you are least expecting it, they will eat you alive.
Lifting my face, I’m met with dark green eyes that are studying me with an intensity that makes me squirm. Nate’s eyes always remind me of a lush forest. Where Dex is always playful and lives for the moment, Nate is always serious. He’s a thinker and a planner. I always wonder what goes on in that head of his. Knowing Nate, he’s planning the world domination or something crazy like that.
“Don’t let him get to you.” He pauses, a sly grin appearing on his face. “Dexter is just pulling your chain. He doesn’t mean anything by it.”
I cleared my throat to stall, afraid if I spoke right away my emotions would override my attempt to appear not bothered by Dex’s words or the fact that he saw my panties. He was waiting, watching me with that same intensity again.
“It's okay, Nate. I’m used to being the brunt of their stupid jokes. School starts back soon and when it does I plan on finding some friends of my own. No more will I follow my brother around. I don’t like being the fourth wheel. It makes me feel out of place and useless.”
He groans which gains my full attention.
“Is that what you think? That you are a joke to us? That we don’t want you around?”
My head moves up and down in a slow nod. The room around us stills as our conversation is overheard. All at once I have three sets of eyes blazing down at me. My brother appeared defeated, unlike Dex, who looks as if someone just told him that Santa and the Easter Bunny are in cahoots to keep all of his toys and make everyone omelets with his eggs.
I rub my eyes as I push up to my feet. Now is not the time to back down, so once again I steel my spine and speak my mind. “I’m not stupid. I know when I’m not wanted,” I told them all, meeting them eye to eye. “You guys are always trying to lose me. And when I do catch up, you give me hell for it. I can take a hint.”
“Then why haven’t you?” Jimmie asks. My stupid brother didn’t have a chance to duck out of the way before Dex’s hand smacks him upside the head.
I rolled my eyes, not understanding what all the hoop-lah was about. Nate stood and took my hand, holding it t
ight enough that there was no escaping. Before I could question him, Dex scooted forward and took my other hand, holding it just as tightly as Nate was. I glowered, wondering for the umpteenth time today what was going on with the two of them.
“Sorry Jelly Bean, but there is no escaping us now. You know too many of our secrets and despite your nosiness and petulant to cause us trouble, we have become fond of you. You’re one of us now.”
I blinked and gave my brother a puzzling look that he answers with an annoyed shrug. At least, I wasn’t the only one who seemed miffed by this new development.
“In case you missed the news flash when you were looking up my dress earlier. I’m not a boy. So making me a member of your silly all boys group is going to prove to be near impossible. Unless of course, you have some creepy underground lair stashed away that I’ve never seen.”
“Don’t we wish.” Nate answers. A look of mischief twinkling in his gaze.
The boys circled me.
Dex smiled slyly, and I gulped, my nerves back full force. Reaching out his hand stroked my cheek. “No underground lair or body change needed. It’s already done. We’ve voted on it and as of today, you Addison Lewis are now part of the CW boys. You’re with us now.”
My brows bunched in confusion. “What does that mean?”
Jimmie speaks up for the first time since all this insanity started. “It means Addy Bear, that if anyone messes with you, they mess with us. If we’re involved in something, no matter how dangerous, then you are too. We protect each other at all costs and when one of us bleeds, is hurting, or in trouble, then the rest of us pulls together to make it right.”
I gulped hard hearing the seriousness of his voice. These guys meant business. Despite their young age, they had formed an unbreakable bond with each other. One that now included me. I closed my eyes as scattered thoughts drifted in my mind. My hands were becoming slick with sweat and despite how hard I tugged, neither boy would relinquish my hand. I felt their gaze on me long before I opened them back up.
I cleared my throat. “What happens if I don’t want to be part of this group? Is there a backout plan or something we can do?”
Nate makes a snorting noise, something he occasionally does when he finds something amusing. Obviously, I was the thing amusing him today.
“Too late Addy Bear. That ship has sailed. We’re keeping you. You fit in perfectly with us. You should have learned by now that whenever the CW Boys go after something, they don’t stop until they get it. Today that happens to be you. Embrace it and enjoy the power it will bring you. No one will ever mess with you again, and everyone will want to be your friend. You’re the girl version of us, Addy Bear. You’re like a princess.”
I’m at a loss for words. How in the heck did my day get so messed up? The boys release my hands and go about working on the clubhouse as if nothing of importance had just taken place. Just as I thought all of it had been a horrific nightmare, and I imagined it all, my brother sidled up to me, his hand rubbing my shoulder in a way mom does when she knows I’m upset.
“I tried to warn you off for your own sake and not because I didn’t want you around. I can’t help you now. They meant what they said earlier. You’re part of the group now, little sister.” With that, he pushes a broom and dust pan in my hands. “Time to earn your keep, brat. You get the floors. I’ll take the walls.”
Chapter Three
Addison- Age Fifteen
“Did you see Daniel on the dance floor?” I ask, leaning into Cammy so she can hear me over the loud music. “He was dancing with that new transfer student from Georgia.”
Cammy blinks, then says, “I’m drawing a blank. What’s her name?”
“Daisy, I think.” I rack my brain to recall a name I’ve heard in passing. “Or maybe it was Rose? Magnolia?” My memory is shit tonight. “I know it’s a type of flower.”
Cammy gives an amused snort. “So what are you in the mood for?” She points to the backyard and my gaze follows the movement. “Swimming, beer pong, or a riveting game of drunken volleyball?” Her arm swings to the action in front of us in a Vanna White type showcase. “Or we can get our groove on in here. If we’re lucky everyone will be so drunk, they won’t remember our lack luster moves come Monday.”
I stand frozen staring at the debauchery in front of us as two teens gyrate on each other as if there wasn’t a whole room full of people around them. They look like something out of a porn flick, their mouths feasting on any speck of bare skin they find while their hips are frantically humping the other’s leg. Gulping loudly, I nod toward the backdoor. “I’ll take my chances out there. I’m not attempting that dance floor until I’ve had more booze in me.” I point toward my chest, my fingers grazing the tiny pearl buttons on my sleeveless top that are straining against my breasts. “This white girl can’t dance. At least not in the way kids around here do.”
Cammy and I wander through the thick crowd murmuring, “Excuse us,” and “Coming through,” as we bump and inch our way to the back doors. I’ve been to a handful of high school parties before but none of them have anything like this one. The house is filled with kids from our school and surrounding ones, the music is pumping so loud you can feel it vibrate in your bones, and the kitchen counters supply a rainbow of colorful bottles of every liquor you could ever imagine. If my brother and his friends knew I was here, they would be having a shit fit. Lucky for me, they are still out of town on a soccer game and Cammy promises to have me out of here and back home before they return.
The outside cool air feels like heaven to my heated face. Standing on the edge of the back porch I tilt my head back and take in large gulps of the fresh, untainted air. I smelt no less than ten different kinds of perfume and cologne while we were refilling our solo cups, giving my nose something to sneeze about.
“So what now chick-a-de?”
My eyes dart around the backyard taking in the half-dressed girls in the pool frolicking around like swimsuit models, the group standing around the beer pong table cheering loudly while provoking those playing to drink more, and then, of course, is the volleyball players. Don’t even get me started on them. Drinking and physical games are not a good combination for anyone. Nothing going on around us excites me. Cammy, on the other hand, is in her element. She’s wide-eyed and excited to join in on anything I toss-up. She’s the yin to my yang. Where I am content being the wall flower, she is more at peace being the center of attention. Not wanting to drag her down and ruin her night I decide on the least troublesome activity.
“Let’s make this night memorable. Teach me how to play beer pong.”
Cammy squeals in delight, jumping up and down like a little kid. A few people look our way, but with all the craziness going on around us we aren’t given a second glance. “Seriously?” The happiness in her tone makes me smile.
I shrug and give a timid nod. “It’s not every weekend I get to party without the CW Boys interfering.” I take a large gulp of luke warm beer from my cup and fight the grimace as it trails down my throat. I’m not a big beer drinker but a little liquid courage is never needed to keep from backing out on Cammy and going in search of a quiet corner to spend the rest of the night in. “Let’s do this.”
If my nerves are showing, then Cammy doesn’t notice because she wastes no time hauling me across the yard to the game table set up by the pool house. Using her hips and elbows she maneuvers us to the front of the table and within minutes has us set up to play against two large guys that play defensive line on the football team. I’m no Einstein but even I know that our odds of holding our own against these two are slim to none. Not only are they more familiar with this game, but their weight ratio is greater than ours making them able to hold more alcohol before face planting it on the lawn.
I watch with nervous tension in my shoulders as twelve cups filled with beer are set out on each side of the table. We take our respective places at the table with a pong ball in hand. With a loud whistle from a guy standing on a chair next to
me, the game begins. I go first and with a flip of the wrist, my ball goes sailing in the air and lands with a gentle ‘blop” into a red solo cup. I’m ecstatic and feeling confident. With my hands in the air, I’m dancing around in a circle and talking so much shit, my breath probably stinks. The problem with gloating about a win is that it can some back to bite you in the butt.
I manage to land my ball in one other cup during the night, but after drinking cup after cup of beer, my aim goes to shit and I end up being the biggest loser of the night. One game turns into two and by the time we end, I’m a royal drunk mess. And I need to pee.
While Cammy talks up some tall wiry guy beside her, I dart off in search of a bathroom. I start with the one in the pool house since it is close by but after several jiggles of the handle, my ears are met with loud moaning that takes the term reliving yourself to a whole new meaning. Backtracking back the way I came, I concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and head to the house.
The party is raunchier than before if that’s possible. There are people everywhere. Loud voices and even louder music float in the crowded room making my head spin and my bladder beg for release. I swear every heavy beat from the song playing over the speakers feels like a punch to the gut. Moving as fast as my body will allow, I maneuver my way to the hallway where I find a freaking line eight people deep awaiting the one room I so desperately need. I glare at everyone before me wishing they would hurry the hell up and get out of my way. Game or no game, I shouldn’t have drunk all those beers. I feel positively ill.
“I can’t wait any longer,” I mutter to myself and step back to look for another option. Besides taking a squat in the backyard that would surely get myself noticed and properly nicknamed for the rest of my high school years, there is one other bathroom in the house, but it resides upstairs which is restricted from party goers. In other words, I’m not allowed up there. As in no going to happen. Keep out. Do not pass go. You get the idea.
This is a rule I would normally respect and not tempt to deviate around, but with my bladder on the verge of rupturing and my head feeling heavier than it should, I find myself sneaking away from the line as quiet as a drunken girl can and making a beeline for the back stairs. With no one around to stop me, I take the steps two at a time and reach the landing before anyone notices my assent.