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Anything to Have You

Page 22

by Paige Harbison


  “That is so good for her. I’m glad to hear it.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I’m sorry you didn’t win. Now, come sit down.”

  There was an air of me getting in trouble, and I couldn’t imagine why. Had someone gotten in touch with her about my—cringe—self-vomit last night? It was only a matter of time, I supposed.

  I sat down in one of the chairs across from her. She tossed an envelope over to me. I picked it up and looked in the left-hand corner.

  “University of Pennsylvania.” My gut sank.

  She nodded, setting her mouth on interlaced fingers.

  I flipped it over, knowing. “It’s already open.”

  She nodded once more.

  It was a bunch of brochures and paperwork. “What...I don’t...”

  “It’s your welcome packet. There’s log-in information there for your student portal. You can start looking at courses and picking out which ones you want to start with next fall.”

  My eyes were wide and dry. “What the hell are you talking about right now?”

  “Brooke, the decision has been made. Your father and I are sick of sitting around here waiting for you to make a decision. You are going to the school that is going to bring you the most success.”

  “Wow, thanks a lot for all the support, Mom.”

  “How am I supposed to support you when you’re doing nothing? You were so smart once. I don’t understand what happened to you! You don’t apply yourself in any way, as far as I can tell. This program might bring that girl back a little bit. I’m not going to sit by and allow you to mess up your future even more. You are a mess, and I can’t allow you to go to New York, where you’ll stay out all night and forget about school entirely.”

  “That is not true! I want to go to New York because I want to do that program, not so I can stay out all night and party.”

  “I really don’t think you’d enjoy being cut off financially, Brooke.”

  “No! Obviously not!”

  “So, how about you do as your father and I say?”

  I shook my head and stared at a spot on the table. “This is so messed up.”

  “It is not messed up, Brooke. It is your future, and it’s a good choice. Stop being a petulant child.”

  “I am not being a child, I just don’t want that life! I want to enjoy the next four years, and the ones after it.”

  “Brooke, once again, the world has not wronged you in any way. This is a good thing.”

  “I would be a success doing the program I want to do.”

  She gave me a look. “Brooke.”

  “God, have a little fucking faith in me! I am not a stupid little kid. New York is where I want to be. All I want is for you to help me to do that!”

  She took her glasses off and rubbed her face.

  “All right, here’s what you’re going to do. Go to Pennsylvania. Start this program. If you do well, don’t party all the time and take some business classes, and you still want to go to New York...I’ll help you pay for it.”

  This was an enormous change. “Seriously?”

  I was careful not to get too excited and make her take it back.

  “Yes. But I am saying that you have to be on the Dean’s List at least. No ‘barely getting by’ on these classes.”

  “Got it. I will. That is...amazing, Mom.”

  “Okay, go take a look at those brochures. And don’t eat too much. We’re having a big dinner tonight. I’ve got chicken marinating. Invite Natalie over if you want to. I’d love to talk to her about her plans next year.”

  The comment brought me right back down to earth.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Winston Churchill High School Graduation Party,

  located at Black Hills Recreational Park,

  basically hosted by Aiden and Natalie

  THE YEAR HAD not turned out anything like I had hoped it would. I’d wanted a last hurrah of a semester. Parties, senior skip days, and kill me for wanting my best friend and my boyfriend along for the ride.

  I had thought it would be fun. I had thought we could forge a few more memories together. I wanted Natalie to not waste her time, youth and last high school months sitting at home. And what did I get for it?

  I got to find out that my best friend was an insane, boyfriend-stealing bitch. I got to find out that she got knocked up by my boyfriend.

  If I didn’t know better, I might have thought I was pregnant from how sick I had been ever since prom. I’d hardly eaten anything. I had been drinking what was probably the equivalent of my recommended daily caloric intake, but that was about it.

  I had aced my finals, except for chemistry—that I only got a C on—and was headed to University of Pennsylvania in the fall. I had faked it with my parents and acted like I was looking forward to it. Anything that would get me to New York.

  I had started wearing the school sweatshirt my mom had given me for Christmas to replace stupid Aiden’s stupid football one, which was now long gone. I was doing what my parents wanted. Everyone at school seemed to believe the act that everything with me was okay. In fact, I think they thought I was better than ever. I had played up feeling like I’d been dragged down for the past few years, and that now all I wanted was to have fun.

  Never mind that my stomach was a constantly twisting knot of snakes and that I was dreading the coming fall, and that I had no idea how I was going to get through this summer without the people I used to love the most.

  I was angrier with them than I had ever been with anyone. Not merely for the fact that I could picture them together. Going over to each other’s houses. I hated imagining Natalie talking to Aiden’s mom, who used to love me, and Natalie being so much sweeter and less foul-mouthed than I am. I hated imagining Aiden talking to Natalie’s dad. He had always liked Aiden. I hated imagining—oh, the terror—of them going out to eat at the diner. Where he would fill the spot next to Natalie, ordering meat loaf and mashed potatoes while she ate her patty melt.

  And how awful that I knew that I must come up in their conversations. They must sit there, in their happy little world, and think, Oh, poor Brooke...we really hurt her. We really shouldn’t have done what we did. And continue to do. Oh, fuck it, let’s do it anyway.

  I hated the idea of their pity. That they thought they were the cool pair who had really fucked me over, and how sad that must be for me. And I hated that they must look at me and think—or, rather, know—that I was faking half of how okay I was. I hated that, no matter what I’d done, they’d think about how responsible they were for it, while not doing anything to stop it.

  I also hated that they probably nodded to each other and agreed that, yes, they had something much bigger to worry about. They probably figured that “Brooke will understand someday.”

  Whatever. I had one summer left in this shitty little town, and then this would all be a memory. An awful story that I would one day discuss and make light of over drinks on a back deck with my new—and real—best friend.

  But that was in the future. Right now, I was pulling up at Black Hills for the graduation party I didn’t want to go to, but had to. Everyone else was going. Everyone. I wouldn’t care if it meant only that I would run into Aiden and Natalie. But I did care that the party was funded entirely by their senior class project. Every last potato chip was paid for by Natalie’s creative thinking and Aiden’s good work ethic.

  Yeah. That stupid fucking wall. Everyone was all obsessed with how awesome it was, and people were constantly taking pictures in front of it. Another thing they’d taken from me. I couldn’t even enjoy that with everyone else.

  Fuck. What a great pair they made. What a superawesome team.

  At least I looked fucking great. I grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniel’s I’d talked an older friend into buying, and
the lemonade I intended to mix it with. I tossed them in my sequined backpack from Victoria’s Secret and started up to the party from the lot. I was in a red bikini, sheer white tank top, light jean shorts and feeling very Baywatch with my blond hair tumbling down over my shoulders. I had gotten a fresh set of highlights and was feeling pretty awesome.

  The backyard was littered with people. The people I had spent the past four years with. Guys were making the tanning girls laugh. It was all string bikinis, belly button rings and the smell of grilling hamburgers. On the lawn in the shade a group of people had put their chairs in a circle and were tossing around Ping-Pong balls. I threw my bag on the grass and went up to Alexa, who squealed when a ball went in her cup. She chugged it, and then I tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Hey, betch!” I said. God, I was good at faking it.

  “Oh, my God, hi! We fucking graduated!” She jumped up and down and I squealed with her.

  “I fucking know! Ahh!”

  “Wanna play? Go get that chair.”

  I pulled it up and squeezed between her and her cousin Ryan. “How do I play?”

  He leaned over to me and explained. “Basically, keep your cup in the same place, you can’t move it. There are a bunch of balls being tossed around, you’re aiming to get one in someone else’s cup. If you get it, they have to drink it, and they have to finish it before someone else’s cup gets sunk. If you break a rule, or if you don’t finish it in time, you have to do three laps around the pitcher in the middle while chugging your drink.

  “Is there—” I looked around, there were parents and teachers there “—any alcohol at all?”

  “Obviously,” he said with a wink. “In the punch.”

  Alexa handed me a cup.

  Everyone erupted in a shout as Ryan’s girlfriend Hilary’s cup was sunk. She chugged it and then tossed the ball elsewhere.

  “It’s pretty easy to get fucked up,” she said, stepping toward the pitcher to refill her cup.

  I laughed. “What’s this game called?”

  “Hungry hungry hippos.”

  “Hah! I get it. That’s awesome.”

  Someone sank my cup. I downed it.

  It was hard not to laugh and have a good time playing. After about an hour at the party, I finally felt good again for the first time in weeks. In longer, maybe. This was my school. These were my people. I was okay. I did have friends. I could have a good summer with them, and not think too much about all the awful things that had gone on. These were my memories, and I refused to let two assholes ruin them. Even though I kept finding myself looking around for them. I knew they were there. They had to be.

  Eventually, I did see them. They weren’t together at first, but then they seemed to find each other. Why had they bothered keeping the distance to begin with? He’d probably even driven her here.

  I looked over to where the parents were. Oh. Maybe he hadn’t driven her. Her dad was there. With...oh, my God, was that Marcy? They were finally officially together? I’d have to ask—

  No one. Nothing. Not Natalie.

  After the game, Alexa and I sat together, chatting.

  “I wish they didn’t have to be here,” she said. “I mean, like out of respect for you, you know?”

  I knew it was stupid. But she meant it to make me feel better. To show she was on my side. “Yeah. Well. I expected them to be, so, whatever. Thanks, though, you are really a great friend.” I gave her a smile and shoved her with my shoulder.

  She did a pouty face. “I hate that you’re not going to be in New York next year. We could have roomed together and everything.”

  “I know. Fucking blows.”

  She was going to be at NYU on an acting track. I had a feeling things would work out for her there. She was pretty, thin and a good actress. She was the only nonweirdo who did the plays at our school.

  I didn’t interact with either Natalie or Aiden until later that night. I was refilling my drink at the refreshments table, and they were nearby. Fueled by anger, feigned indifference and now a bunch of illicit alcohol, I decided it was time to speak to them. Bethany had joined Alexa and me, so the three of us marched over.

  “Well, hey there, guys, so glad to see you.”

  They were both silent at first, but then Aiden nodded. “Yeah, you, too. Glad to have graduated?”

  “Yeah, I’m so thrilled.” My voice was so fake it hurt. “Wow, Natalie, not even drinking at the grad party?”

  She bit her lip, and I could tell she wanted to cry. Fucking good. Do it.

  “No, I don’t feel like it.”

  “Sure you don’t want some, Nat?”

  Bethany and Alexa didn’t know that I was being rude about her pregnancy. I hadn’t told them. It was a line that I wouldn’t cross, even though I knew it would become obvious soon enough. Something stopped me.

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “How about some ice chips?” I took a handful of ice and chucked them at her bare legs.

  Aiden stepped forward. “Hey, Brooke—”

  “I really think you should shut your fucking mouth, Aiden.”

  But I saw that his gaze went behind me. I followed it, and saw Natalie’s dad.

  God. Dammit.

  I loved that man. He was like a father to me. And he had seen me, like, bully his real daughter.

  “Hi, John...” I said. I almost literally hung my head.

  I could tell from looking at him that he knew the whole situation. He knew why I was mad. Why I had just done what I did. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t filled with a horrible, horrible shame. This was worse humiliation than puking in my own hand at senior prom.

  “Congratulations, Brooke. I’m so proud of you for graduating.” He reached for me and gave a real hug. I couldn’t even stop the tears. I could hide them, but not stop them. He and Natalie were family to me. “Your mom told me about Pennsylvania, and your plans for New York. I know you’re going to do great.”

  It almost felt like a goodbye. Would that be it? Was I that worthless and disposable? So useless and unimportant that Natalie and Aiden could do this and not even worry about me? That after the fact, they could stay together, and live without me? And that Natalie’s dad was okay with letting this be essentially goodbye?

  “I gotta go.”

  I ran across the lawn, found Reed and made him take me back to Alexa’s, where people would be going later.

  * * *

  AT ALEXA’S HOUSE, we went inside to the vacant kitchen and I got my Jack Daniel’s from my backpack.

  I poured two shots, and we each picked one up. “What shall we cheers to?”

  He was in high spirits. He didn’t know I wasn’t.

  “Fuck it,” I said, clanging my shot glass on the counter.

  “I’ll drink to that.”

  I took a step toward him, pushed on his abdomen and then kissed him hard.

  He pulled me to him roughly, his hand flat on my back. Still kissing me, he turned us, picked me up by my thighs and put me on the counter.

  He grabbed my hair by the base of my neck and pulled just hard enough. I wrapped my legs around his inked hip bones and my arms around his neck. I kissed him. The thrill shot through me, the same as it had all those months ago, and as it did every time he touched me. Something about the electricity of his lips and tongue and the hardness of his body turned me on like no one else’s. In that moment, I didn’t care about Aiden and Natalie. They were a thought long gone.

  “Take me to a bedroom.” I spoke into his ear.

  He pulled me off the counter effortlessly, grabbed the bottle and took me into a dark room. The only light was coming through the blinds from the pool outside. He let the bottle slam on the glass nightstand, and lay down, allowing me to be on top of him.

  I kissed him everywhe
re, unable to stop touching his muscles, which were tight and taut and everywhere without exception. I kissed and bit his hip bones before pulling down his shorts.

  It also helped that he was huge, making me feel immediately like he was more of a man than Aiden. Messed up? Maybe. But it made me feel better.

  He let me go for a few minutes before wrenching me back up by the waist, flipping me on my back and peeling off my bikini. He did so in about two point five seconds. I couldn’t even be quiet. I wasn’t sure if people had followed us yet or not, but I didn’t care.

  He kissed me with an intoxicating force, his hand in my hair, his mouth buried in my neck. I grabbed his back and scratched, maybe a little too hard, but he didn’t cringe.

  It was the hottest thing I’d ever done. I didn’t even hesitate before letting him go all the way. He paused only to put on a condom—it hardly slowed him down. He was clearly a pro.

  He groaned, his teeth on my collarbone and one hand on the middle of my back pulling me slightly off the bed.

  It was as much passion as I had ever seen in movies, and never really had in my own experience. I was light-headed as he did whatever it was he was doing to make me feel that way.

  But then, for the first time since we had begun, he kissed me on the mouth. The spinning in my head got far worse, and I kissed him back. He slowed to a stop and flipped me back on top. My hair was long and tangled, and in the way, but it didn’t matter.

  I kissed him again, my heart light as air, my body on fire, sticky and tingling.

  * * *

  WHEN WE FINISHED, I put on my bikini, prepared to act like it had been nothing. But as soon as he put his shorts back on, he pulled me close into his tight body. He looked down at me, his mouth slightly open and his hair all over the place.

  Whatever I felt for him, I hated it. I knew he could never be anything real to me, or for me. I was just a different kind of fuck. I knew that. Or hell, maybe I wasn’t even different. I hated that he was making me feel special right now.

 

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