by Remi Rose
Vicky.
As she passes, she peers back at me with a satisfied smirk that has me clenching my teeth.
“You okay?” Josie grabs my arm gently before glaring off towards Vicky’s direction.
“Yah.” I nod, but I’m anything but. I was tired of her little game of cat and mouse with me, her antics were getting old and if she didn’t stop soon, I was going to explode.
“What’s going on with you two?” Josie asks, genuinely concerned.
“Nothing.” I lie. “She’s just a bitch.”
“Major bitch.” She grumbles.
As the crowds begin to disperse, we find it a good time to start walking back to our cars. The party at Nate’s was going to be starting soon and we still needed to drop my car off back at home.
“Woah, looks like daddy Fitzgerald and Wes are getting into it.” Josie gestures across the lot where they both stand by a pick-up truck, blatantly shouting at each other.
“I’m fucking trying, Wes! What do you want me to do?” Mr. Fitzgerald barks with his hands tangled in his hair. Pure agony was written all over his face as he stared at his son. Wes’s expressionless face said it all, like he could care less his dad was causing a scene in front of the whole school.
“Whatever.” Wes shakes his head while trying to maneuver around his dad, but a quick reach of his hand and he’s latched onto Wes’s upper arm.
“Don’t walk away when I’m trying to fucking talk to you!” Mr. Fitzgerald growls like an animal and bares his teeth.
Wes immediately rips his arm out of his hold and all hell breaks loose. Wes’s normally aqua eyes turn dark and he rears his hand back before striking his dad across the face, landing a harsh blow to his nose. He stumbles back grabbing onto his face, but in seconds he’s ready to attack. My feet move quickly and before I know it, I’m in between the both of them with my arms out.
“What are you doing here?” Wes asks, completely caught off guard by my interruption. I peer down at his shaky hands, and then look over my shoulder at Mr. Fitzgerald.
He didn’t bother covering his nose as blood flowed freely down his face, dripping off his beard and staining his white dress shirt. His eyes were unrecognizable as they stared down at his son, completely avoiding me. His unreadable expression was what terrified me the most, he looked as if he was ready to kill.
“Are you okay?” The words come out slow but clear enough for him to hear. His mouth clenches the minute I speak as he keeps his gaze directed on his son. “Mr. Fitz..”
Like a strike of lightning, his eyes come down on mine. Once unreadable, they're now full of emotions. Like he’s unloading everything he feels on me. Anger, sorrow, hurt, and emptiness, the emotions of a deeply broken man. The rhythm of my heart increases, and I feel my arm slowly lift. Sensing my movement, he grimaces and quickly spins around before hopping inside the truck and slamming the door shut. Starting the ignition, he peels out of the parking lot leaving me there confused.
“Becca?”
I almost forget Wes was behind me. Spinning around, I take in his worried eyes. Raking a hand though his disheveled hair, he stares up into the night sky.
“What happened?”
“He just…pisses me off sometimes.” He drags his hand down his face. Where he should be feeling on top of the world right now after winning a game, he looks defeated. “We’ve had a shitty relationship my whole life.” He confesses.
“I get it.” I nod. “Maybe next time hold back on the punching, Rocky.” I make a joke, hoping to lighten his mood. He chuckles while slightly dropping his head.
“Fuck.” He groans with his eyes shut.
Hearing fast footsteps approach us, Josie slides in beside me.
“Jesus Christ, are you okay?” She asks Wes hysterically like he was the one who got hit.
Lifting his head, his eyes trail down the length of my body, noticing the unusual outfit choice. He was used to seeing me in anything baggy or concealing, not...this. Swallowing, he glances between the both of us. “Where are you guys goin’?”
“A party.” Josie answers quickly.
“Nate’s?” He frowns.
“Yeah, him and Travis invited us.” She says happily, but only causes Wes to scowl. “Are you going?”
“I wasn’t planning on it, but after that, I need some alcohol.” He forces out a laugh.
Out of his football uniform, he looks fresh, dressed in a pair of jeans and black Nike tee, with a gold chain around his neck.
“You can ride with us if you want?” Josie invites. My eyes quickly fly to hers, mentally strangling her for asking. Wes can sense the apprehension in my eyes before scratching the top of his head.
“It’s okay, I don’t want to intrude.” He starts to back away from us.
I feel a small amount of relief, until Josie opens her big mouth. “I insist.” She grins. “Showing up with you might ease our anxiety a bit.”
He stops mid-step, eyeing me like he’s making sure it’s okay with me. “Yah... okay.”
Perfect.
There was no escaping him, even if I tried. And by the playful smirk across Josie’s face, she knew exactly what she was doing.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Becca
I decided to leave my car at the school and after the party, Josie would drop me off. Riding shotgun, Wes is stuck in the back, but is sitting in the middle. Every now and then I glance up at the rearview mirror, observing him. His legs were spread wide, while his arms were resting behind each headrest. He looked to be deep in thought, never straying his eyes from the window. Whatever it was seemed to be bugging him.
The rest of the ride was quiet, until we pulled up to a house that had cars lined up and down the block.
“Holy shit.” Josie mumbles, staring in awe at all the cars. As we passed the house, you could see people scattered throughout his yard. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Wes lean forward peering out the windshield. “Why are there so many people?” She groans.
The sick feeling in my stomach was already starting and we weren’t even inside the house yet…
“You ever been to a party before?” Wes chuckles.
“Of course!” She says like she’s offended he would even ask. “Becca and I are like total party people.”
Rolling my eyes, I can’t help but giggle at her lie.
“Quit laughing and help me find a parking spot!” She barks.
About ten minutes later, we’re pulling ourselves out of the car and onto the sidewalk across from Nate’s house.
“Thanks for parking.” Josie smiles embarrassed while grabbing her keys from Wes.
Josie was a shitty driver plain and simple. Or should I say, shitty at parking. She’s hit four parked cars since she got her driver’s license and she didn’t want to chance it again with parallel parking. Luckily Wes was with us and offered to help.
“No problem.” He smiles back, but catches my eyes.
Remembering the little deal we made about only being friends at work, I avert my eyes and start walking towards the house. Josie catches up with me while Wes trails from behind.
Crossing the street, we start marching up the sidewalk that leads up to Nate’s house and all you can hear is music blaring.
Drake, if I’m correct.
His house reminded me of Josie’s. Large, extravagant, and worth more than my life.
The loud thumping of the bass vibrates the ground, sending shockwaves up my legs and through my back. “You sure you want to go in there?” I ask, secretly hoping she changes her mind so we can go back home and be hermits.
It takes her a moment to respond, but she confidently nods her head. “Yea, let’s go.”
Sighing, I follow her up the front porch that’s covered in people standing around with solo cups in their hands. They didn't take notice of us but the minute we step foot inside the house, there was no turning back.
The words of Drake flowed throughout the house, making it nearly impossible to hear your own thoughts, much
less people talking. Feeling a body lightly brush up against my back has me tense, but when I twist my head, I notice it's Wes and feel somewhat relieved that it’s him and not some perv. He peers down at me, nodding his head towards the inside of the house. Confused, I finally realize I'd stopped just in front of the door and was blocking it. Taking a few more steps into the house, I stand beside Josie who’s taking it all in with wide eyes.
“You guys want anything to drink?” Wes shouts pointing to the kitchen. Glancing over, I see an array of choices on the table. Vodka, beer, wine, whiskey, rum, literally anything you could imagine, it was there.
“Beer’s fine.” Josie answers while I shake my head.
Wes saunters away catching the eyes of girls who were leaned up against the wall chatting. By their grins and over the top giggles, they liked what they saw.
“I wonder where Nate is.” Josie leans in close to my ear.
We both peer around the room, checking for familiar faces. It would be almost impossible to make him out with all these people around.
Wes comes back with two beers in hand and gives one to Josie. We stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to do or where to go and for some reason, Wes stays beside us.
“You don’t have to stand here.” I try to get his attention.
“I don’t mind.” He shrugs, knocking back his can of bud light. My gaze is fixated on his neck, watching his throat muscles contract as he swallows the liquid.
“I do.” I gulp, watching his confused eyes turn to hurt. “I’m sure you’d rather be celebrating with your actual friends than us.”
Tossing back the rest of his beer, he crushes the can with his bare hand and tosses it on the floor. “You’re right. I would.”
He walks away, disappearing into the crowd while I’m left feeling like crap.
I hurt his feelings.
But why should I care? It wasn’t like we were friends anyway.
“Where’d Wes go?” Josie asks while sipping her drink.
Shrugging, I lean back against the wall. “I don’t know.”
We soon find ourselves in the backyard by the pool, it wasn't as crowded but you risked the chance of seeing naked girls.
“Maybe he's already with a girl.” Josie frowns disappointed while untying her hair band, letting her brown locks cascade down her back in waves.
There was a strong possibility that was true, but I didn’t want to tell her that. “Or, he’s celebrating the win tonight and getting shit faced with his friends?” I try to keep it optimistic.
“Maybe.” She shrugs. “Or he’s upstairs getting a blow job.”
Grabbing her arm, I start to pull her along with me. “Okay, that’s enough.” I drag her to a table with shots lined up down the middle.
“Take one.” I point.
She’s reluctant at first, but grabs one.
“Take the shot and forget about Nate.”
Rolling her eyes, she sets the shot back down. “Take a shot with me.”
Chuckling, I stare at her in disbelief. “You know I don’t drink.”
“Then no shot for me.” She shakes her head, but then suddenly her eyes land on someone in front of her and face seems to brighten. “It’s Nate, there’s Nate!” She squeals in excitement.
Turning around, I find him standing beside the pool surrounded by a few guys who are dressed identically to him. A pair of red board shorts and a polo.
“What do you plan on doing?” I question, as she reaches for the shot and tosses it back with no problem. Fluffing her hair, she adjusts her dress and makes a bee line for him.
“Wish me luck.” She waves nervously.
Nate doesn’t seem to notice her approach until she’s inches away from him. I can sense his confusion when she stops directly in front of him. And without hesitation, she grabs the dark locks on the back of his head, and pulls him down onto her lips. His arms stiffen at his sides and to make matters worse, they guys who were surrounding Nate are now laughing in amusement.
My mouth gapes open in pure horror.
What the hell is she doing?!
He’s hesitant at first and when I think he’s about to push her away, he doesn’t. Wrapping his arms around her slim waist, he deepens the kiss, tugging her closer.
Standing there completely shocked, I needed to find an open area to breathe. Somewhere I didn’t have to watch my best friend make out with a guy who didn’t deserve her.
My feet move quickly, weaving through random people until my sights set on a bench swing that was deep in the backyard. Stuck in between two trees, I plop down as it begins to sway back and forth. Resting my head back, I let my eyes close and a flash of Mr. Fitzgerald’s bloodied face pops in my head. The torment in his eyes played on repeat, and the way he flinched when he saw my worry. Sure, he was still a dick in my eyes, but it was hard not to feel bad for him.
“This seat taken?” Wes appears out of nowhere with his hands stuffed in his pockets.
With my eyes still tightly shut, I don’t bother opening them. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“If you’re still pissed at me.” I lift my head to gauge his reaction. Instead of responding, he drops down beside me. Slouching on the bench, he tilts his head back and peers up into the sky. There’s a small gap between us, our thighs are millimeters away from touching but that seemed to be the least of my worries.
“I’m not pissed at you.” He finally speaks up. “I just don’t get you sometimes.”
I didn’t want people to get me. I wanted them to avoid me.
“Good.” I adjust in my seat, gripping onto the arm rest beside me. “It’s better that way anyway.”
“For who?” He turns his head slightly, reading my eyes like he’s trying to understand.
“For me.” My eyes drop down to his hand that’s resting on his thigh. It appears swollen and bruised, probably sore as hell too. “How’s your hand?” I motion toward the welt.
Raising his hand as if to inspect it, he lets out a forced laugh. “Probably not as bad as my dad’s face.”
I could tell he felt like shit about what he did, even if he didn’t have the best relationship with him.
“I’m sure he’s fine.” I try to somewhat console him in the best way I could. The last thing I wanted was to get in the middle of it, but I think I crossed that line when I physically put myself between the both of them.
“Yah…probably.” He sighs.
Curiosity was getting the best of me. I didn’t plan on asking, but it just came out. “So what's the deal with you and Mr. Fitz anyway? Seems like more than just a bad relationship.”
Thinking he might shut me down, he peers at me questioningly. “You really wanna know?”
Nodding, I brush some blonde strands behind my ear. “Yah, I mean, if you want to tell me you can… but you don’t have too though. I don’t want to be nosy.” I blab on.
“It’s fine.” He sits up straighter. “Well... uh... I didn’t exactly know he existed till I was around ten. My mom decided to drop me off at his house like it was any normal day and that’s when all the problems started happening. I was hurt my mom threw me out like trash, hurt my dad wasn’t around and now I was stuck living with someone I barely knew.” His fists clench at his sides like he’s reliving his painful past. “Now I’m just waiting for graduation so I can get the fuck out of here.”
His words hit me deep because they were the same one’s I swore by. We were both dealt shitty cards in life growing up and now here we are.
“Where’s your mom now?” I peer up at his side profile. His defined jawline was that of a marble statue, sharp and elegant. It was impossible not to admire him. He had a timeless face that any man would be envious of.
“Who the fuck knows?” He chuckles darkly. “I stopped caring after my sixteenth birthday.”
Frowning, I knew exactly how he felt.
“Thirteenth.” I add while staring off into the distance. The moon dances over the small pond that’s a few yard
s in front of us.
“Huh?” He questions.
“I stopped caring after my thirteenth birthday.” I admit.
His eyes soften when he realizes he isn’t the only one without a mother.
“I’m sorry.” He apologizes, focusing on the glistening pond. The light of the moon reflected off the water, creating a glittery effect. It was calming, almost sensual in a way as I sat within arm’s length of one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen.
“I’ve managed.” I shrug. A cool breeze suddenly hit me, and I tugged my jacket closer to my skin.
“How’s your dad doing?” He asks, surprising me he even remembered anything about my dad.
“As good as you can be in prison.” I grin, watching out of the corner of my eyes as he smiles.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what did he do?” He sounded hesitant at first, but it was only fair to tell him after he told me his story.
“He was caught in a sting operation six years ago with ten pounds of stolen cocaine.” I wince, noticing how messed up it sounded. “He wasn’t the same after my mom dipped out on us. I guess he thought the only way to keep us afloat was to sell drugs.”
His sorrowful eyes connected with mine, and something unusual passed between us. There weren't sparks flying, but there was an understanding in them that made me feel like I wasn’t the only kid with a fucked up family.
Coughing, he averts his eyes, focusing on the bruise forming on his hand. “Is he getting out soon?”
“Hopefully in a year, but I might be gone by then.” It pains me to say.
“College?” He raises a brow, not questioning the fact I wouldn’t see my dad get out of prison.
Nodding, I start messing with my chipped nail polish on my fingers. “Yeah, I’m hoping to get into the University of Georgia.”
“What’s there?”
“They are ranked number one for their musical therapy program. Ever since I could remember, I needed music just as much as I needed air. Whatever mood you may be in, whether it’s sad or happy, there's a song for it.” I could go on for hours about how powerful of a tool music was, but I feel his heavy stare on me again and my nerves sky rocket. “I just want to help people with music, like it helped me.”