It’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as it is to fall in love with a poor man, Alexandra. One is just infinitely more satisfying. I sigh heavily as my mother’s words haunt me.
Holly at least has the decency to lower her voice and act like she’s ashamed. This is one of those topics where our opinions differ greatly.
“You need to stop right now, Holly. Not. Another. Word. Do you have any idea why West needs extra money? Have you ever asked?” I wait for her answer and shake my head in disappointment. “He helps his mom with Lucy’s medical bills. She has medical insurance with her job, but there are still deductibles for doctors and medications, not to mention the treatments that the insurance company rejects payment on. He’s being honorable. He loves his family, and he’s dedicated to doing his part to take care of them. Don’t ever compare him to a bunch of silver-spoon-fed assholes from Riverside.”
Holly comes closer and grabs my hand before I can walk away, giving me an apologetic smile. “I didn’t know, Alex, I’m sorry. That was really shitty of me.”
“You’re a fine one to throw stones, ya know. I’m getting a little tired of watching Tripp walk all over my best friend. You keep waiting patiently for him to ask you out, and in the meantime, he can’t keep his whatchamacallit out of everyone else’s whowhatsits!”
She shocks the shit out of me by throwing her head back in laughter. I cross my arms across my chest and wait for her to catch her breath.
“Whew! That’s hilarious, Alex. I know we’re supposed to be fighting, but I lost all the anger I was holding in at the mention of Tripp’s whatchamacallit. I don’t think he’d take kindly to you naming his dick a whatchamacallit. Why not just call it his pee-pee?” Her bright smile and infectious laughter soothe my anger, and I grab her for a quick hug. It’s always this easy between the two of us. That’s one of the many reasons I love Holly’s face.
“Okay, bitch, fight over. But I do have one request. Before you ever let Tripp touch you with his whatchamacallit, pee-pee, willy, rooster, or whatever you want to call it, make sure he dips that shit in bleach. Some of those whowhatsits he’s frequented are downright frightening.”
Music blares through the windows, and people are milling in the road and front yard. The front door of the house is wide open, and Eminem welcomes us to our first college party. I fight the urge to turn and run, and I sense the same energy rolling off Holly.
Riverside Prep parties are in no way tame, but we’ve been hanging with the same people for over a decade. We’d see familiar faces at a Riverside party and be stopped numerous times to talk before we ever made it inside. By the time we hit the front door, I’ve yet to see anyone I know, and it leaves me feeling exposed. But I’m tired of West seeing me as a sheltered princess, so I’m determined to power through.
Red solo cups litter the brown shag carpet. The air is thick with smoke, stale beer, and a tangy, rancid smell I’d rather leave unidentified. A rickety card table is set up in the corner, a lively game of beer pong happening. The wood paneled walls are lined with couples who obviously have no qualms about exhibitionism, and the dance floor in the center of the room follows suit.
One thing is painfully clear as I survey the room. These people aren’t pretending. They aren’t playing dress up, stealing from their parents’ liquor cabinet, and drinking from brandy snifters while said parents are on an extended business trip in Europe. Absent is the pretentious and entitled vibe that has been ingrained into my friends and me from birth. This is their party, they are living their own lives, and I’m infinitely jealous.
“Look who made it. Alex! Holls! Y’all decided to slum it tonight, huh? Will, break out the fine china, man!”
“Fuck off, Jason!” Holly shouts, giggling.
She shoves Jason playfully, and he wraps his arm around her neck for an affectionate hug. Will joins us, looking a little glassy-eyed, considering the night is still young.
“You have already seen our illustrious foy-yay, ladies. It would be my distinct honor to give you a tour. You should see the butler’s pantry, wine cellar, and the bidet is not to be missed!” Will jokes with his best hoity-toity, British tour guide impression.
Holly waves her hand flippantly in Will’s direction. “Whatever dude. Let’s just skip straight to the tour of the outhouse and the junker car you probably have up on blocks in the backyard.”
Will grabs his chest and dramatically falls backward. “Holly, you wound me!”
Will and Jason rent this house with a couple of other guys from the golf team. I know they’ve asked West to move in with them several times, but he doesn’t want to spend the extra money. His mom doesn’t live very far from the college, so he says he can’t justify the rent and utilities. I know he hangs out here a lot, and I’m counting on that tonight. I wonder if he’s made it here yet…
“Seriously ladies, can I interest you in a cup of warm beer? It’s two notches above hot piss, but I promise it does the trick.”
“Ugh, gross, Jason. As appetizing as that sounds, I think I’ll have to pass,” I say, just as a girl wearing a red tube dress, Tammy Faye Baker makeup, and bad extensions sidles up next to Will.
“Willie, baby, have you seen Stacey? I can’t find her anywhere.”
If the whine in her voice hadn’t already irked me, the way she sizes up Holly and me would have surely sent me over the edge. I’m resisting the hip pop and eye narrow with everything in me, but I see in my peripheral vision that Holly hasn’t refrained.
“I’m sure she has her tentacles wrapped around West somewhere around here. God knows she’s like a vulture, and poor West is her meal.” Will’s wearing an expression of obvious disgust.
I feel Holly grab hold of my arm. I feel burning behind my eyes and a throbbing in my ears. The music becomes a low hum as the sound of my unsteady breath is magnified tenfold. My eyes sweep the room and pay closer attention to the faces of the groping couples lining the walls.
That’s when I see him. My eyes are blurred with tears, and he’s partially shielded by her scantily-clad body, but I see what I need to see. He should have just slapped me in the face, stabbed me in the heart, pushed me off the cliff. It would hurt much less than this.
His hands are on her hips, and I can see the indent of his fingers as he squeezes tightly. He looks down at her with a smile, and she pushes up on her toes and meets him halfway. But he doesn’t turn his head and chuckle. He doesn’t pull her hair and joke like she’s his little sister.
He inhales her. He fucking devours her. And he crushes my heart in the same breath.
I can’t look away. I try with everything I have to divert my eyes, but the punch to my chest leaves me paralyzed. I feel Holly pulling my arm and softly whispering in my ear, but everything is white noise as the truth rears its ugly head.
West never wanted me at all.
“I think I’ll take that hot beer now, Jason.”
“Realize” by Colbie Caillat
“OKAY ALEX, I’M all about drowning your sorrows, babe, but I think you need to slow your roll. I’d hate for things to get sloppy,” Holly pleads as I grab another beer from the guy working the keg.
“What? I’m just having a good time. You should try it,” I sing-song playfully as I sashay to the dance floor and half my beer splashes out of my cup and onto the carpet.
“Somebody’s got to drive your drunk ass home. Look, let’s get out of here. A bunch of people from Riverside are hanging out at Tripp’s house. His parents are out of town. Let’s go crash.” She gently pulls my arm in an attempt to get me out the door. She also confiscates my beer, and I roll my eyes in protest.
“Great idea, Holly. I’m sure we’ll have a much better time watching Tripp bag another skank. Don’t you think one broken heart is enough for the evening?”
She drops my arm and stalks away angrily. I know I’m a bitch, but at this point, I’m too far-gone to give a good shit. I know she’s trying to help, but I can’t drown out the events of the night or the porn s
how in the corner if she keeps looking at me with pity in her eyes.
I turn back to the dance floor and get lost in the music. I close my eyes, raise my arms, and sway to the steady beat coursing through me.
The alcohol serves to dampen my hurt from a crushing blow to a dull ache, and I’m taking full advantage. I know my inevitable meltdown is looming, but I’m happy to postpone the sob-fest for a while longer.
Out of nowhere, I feel an arm snake around my waist and rocking hips match my rhythm. I turn my head to find a guy with long, wavy blond hair and the hint of a tribal tattoo creeping out of the collar of his shirt. I vaguely remember him from the country club. His name is Cole, and I’m pretty sure he plays golf with Jason and Will on occasion. He’s cute … blurry, but cute. He’ll do the trick.
I raise my arms and link them behind his neck, letting my fingers curl into his hair. He approves, and lets me know by running his hands up and down my arms before they take up residence on my hips. He squeezes affectionately, inadvertently reminding me how I saw West squeezing … No. Stop it. I push the thought away and throw myself whole-heartedly into dancing with Cole.
He swivels me around to face him, and I feel the wall meet my back as he grinds into me with purpose. When did we leave the dance floor?
“I couldn’t take my eyes off you when you were out there. You are so damn sexy.” He sweeps his nose across my collarbone and up to my ear. I might want this … everything is moving at a rapid pace, so I just can’t be sure. If only I had one minute for my foggy mind to catch up with my body’s demands.
His lips attack mine roughly and without pretense. I’m not that naïve; I know what he wants. It’s exhilarating to know he wants it from me. I’ve spent these past few months practically begging West to see me this way, so I soak up the attention like an eager little sponge.
His kisses taste of stale cigarettes and whiskey, but I push the thought away and kiss him back anyway. Until he’s no longer there.
A rush of air sweeps over me, and my eyes flutter in confusion. I reach behind and grab the wall for balance. As my fingers touch the sheet rock, I feel the vibrations of Cole’s back slamming into the wall right beside me.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, dipshit? You stay the hell away from her, or I will end you, do you hear me?” West roars threateningly, and I instinctively recoil in response. His lips are curled in anger and revulsion, and his hands grip Cole’s collar tightly. West slams him into the wall again, and he raises his hands in protest.
“Jesus, chill out, West! We were just having a good time. She wasn’t complaining, all right.” Cole winces and tries his best to extricate himself from West’s grasp.
“She couldn’t say a fucking word with your tongue jammed down her throat!”
“Look, I’m sorry. I thought y’all were just friends. No hard feelings, man.” Cole starts slowly backing away, taking advantage of West’s loosened grip. As he backs away, he gives me a small, apologetic smile. I should apologize to him, but I’m too stunned by the events that have unfolded.
While the boys may have calmed down, I’ve become stone-cold sober in a matter of seconds and seriously freaking pissed. Taking a play out of West’s book, I shove him into the wall with all of my might. Unfortunately for me, pushing West is equivalent to moving a brick wall, which only serves to piss me off more.
“Who in the hell do you think you are? You’ve got no right, West!”
“He had his hands all over you, Alex! Do you really expect me to sit here and do nothing?”
“Yes!”
West shakes his head and grabs the back of his neck in annoyance.
“Emmett would have done the exact same thing.” West raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to admit that he’s made a valid point.
He doesn’t even realize that his words crush me, leaving an indelible gash on my heart. I am that pesky little sister to him.
“Right … okay,” I murmur, mostly to myself. “God, I’m such a fool.”
“What did you say?” He moves closer, obviously not hearing me.
I feel the prying eyes of everyone in the room, and I burn with embarrassment. A true lady never makes a scene, Alexandra. There’s a time a place for everything. Poise is prudent, darling. This is one instance where I actually agree with my mother.
Without answering him, I turn on my heel and make a mad dash to the nearest exit. I desperately need to escape these four walls that slowly close in with every word West utters.
I shove open the back door and take a deep breath of the muggy night air.
“Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry,” I whisper to myself like a mantra, looking up to the stars for strength. Then I realize I have no idea where Holly went.
“Shit.”
The metal screen door clangs behind me, and I quickly turn away.
“Poppy, what the hell is going on?” West grabs my arm gently to turn me around, and I jerk away from his touch.
“Don’t call me that!”
“What do you mean? That’s what I always call you. I’m sorry you’re mad, but I wasn’t gonna sit there and watch him paw at you. That guy is nowhere near good enough for you.” West stands with his hands on his hips and a self-righteous stare, absolutely certain he’s right.
“Is she good enough for you?” I ask accusingly.
“What? Who?”
“Stacey, the succubus. Do I really need to remind you? I’m shocked you were able to disentangle yourself from her face long enough to even realize I was here! Is she good enough for you? Is she all you ever dreamed of?” My breath hitches on the last words, and I’m so thankful to see Holly walk out onto the patio.
“What does she have to do with anything?” West looks utterly confused, and I am beyond frustrated with him. How can he ignore what’s right in front of him? A blind man could see how I feel about him.
“I’m just saying, she must be everything you’ve ever wanted, right? I mean, you’ve been dry humping her against the wall for the past two hours.”
“Stacey is just a girl I hook up with sometimes. I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Alex.” West’s body is coiled with tension, and his glare serves as a warning. He should know better than to warn me. That only serves as an invitation.
“Oh, it’s Alex now, is it? Now that you don’t like what I have to say, I’m no longer your ‘Poppy Girl’?”
“Stop it. You’ll always be my Poppy Girl. You know that. You know how I feel about you.”
“Do I? Let me see if I have this straight. You’ve put me on this pedestal, too good for you or anyone else. That’s mighty lonely, don’t you think?”
“Alex.” He reaches out to me, and I hold up a hand to stop him.
“No, stay away from me, West. I don’t think I can be around you right now.” My breath hitches, and the tears burn behind my eyes. I feel Holly’s hand wrap around mine, and I hold on to her for dear life.
Holly leads me toward the road to leave, and I turn around one more time to see a pained expression on West’s face. I stop and watch him intently.
I hope he’ll stop me. I pray he’ll grab me and tell me I have it all wrong.
But he doesn’t.
He remains silently planted to his place, and I sigh in defeat.
“West, you say that I’m your Poppy Girl? That I’m perfect—everything you could ever want.” I wait for him to meet my gaze and shrug my shoulders in question. “I’m everything you could ever want, and I still lose. How can that be?”
I can no longer hold the tears at bay as he drops his head, runs his hands through his hair, and growls in frustration.
“Alex, just wait. I—”
“West, where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you.”
I never heard the screen door open, and judging by the surprise on West’s face, he didn’t either. Stacey slinks up behind him and curls her tentacles around his waist, giving me a territorial glare.
“All right, that’s enough. We�
�re leaving,” Holly says without giving me a chance to respond as she pulls me away from the house.
I cry the entire way home. I sneak up to my room, avoiding my family so I don’t have to explain, curling up under the covers of my bed without worrying about pajamas.
And I curse the day I ever met West Adler.
“Lego House” by Ed Sheeran
“I THINK THE pink looks so beautiful, West. Can I put some polka dots?” Lucy asks sweetly, gently testing the limits of my manhood.
“You can decorate my fingernails however you like, Lucy Lou, but it’s all coming off before I leave this house.” I narrow my eyes at her jokingly as the living room fills with her infectious giggle. I like to think she gets her charm from me … yeah, probably not.
Lucy always lightens my mood; she keeps me from brooding. She fights for breath every day without complaint. No matter how many treatments, doctors’ appointments, and hospital stays she endures, she keeps smiling and laughing. When she can’t count on the simple things in life, like breathing in and out, who the hell am I to complain about anything?
As Lucy’s spindly fingers peck small turquoise dots onto my hot pink fingernails, I notice that my hands look like catcher’s mitts in comparison. Lucy is tiny and fragile for her ten years, partly due to being born prematurely and partly from years of decreased oxygen intake. I see the signs of her disease in her thin frame, dark eye circles, and pale complexion, but she’s still the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. Her alabaster skin and jet-black hair make her look like a living porcelain doll.
“How about your toes?” she asks expectantly. Her eyes light up with mischief, and I chuckle under my breath.
“Sure, sweetheart, I guess I can hide those well enough. Are they going to get polka dots, too?”
“No, I think you need a tiny rhinestone on each toe—West, get back here!”
I pull my hands and feet away from the little torturer and make my way into the kitchen. I’m all for making my baby sister happy, but even I have my limits.
Wings Over Poppies (Over #2) Page 3