Chapter Three.

Party time!

 

Chapter Three.

 

December, fours years previously.

 

“Scout! Wait up!”

 

I turned around to see Angela pushing through two seniors to reach me in the crowded hallway. Her face was slightly flushed, her blonde hair pushed back.

 

“Hey, Ang,” I said, smiling.

 

“Hey. So, James asked me to go to this party down in Ashawk tonight, but I am so not going alone. So, I’ll pick you up at seven tonight? Please?” James was Angela’s latest interest.

 

I sighed. “I’ll see. I’ll have to think up some excuse or something.”

 

“Just say we’re going for pizza,” Angela said, before turning the corner and waving over her shoulder as she melted in with the mass of students.

 

 

 

“Just where do you think you’re going?”

 

I froze on the last step; panic striking through me until I realized this question was not directed to me. My mother stood in the kitchen doorway, back to me, scowling in the direction of my father as he tried to slip out the back door.

 

“If you’re going for more-“

 

“I’m not, Charlotte. I was just taking a walk.”

 

“Well, if I catch so much as a whiff of whiskey, I’ll-“

 

“You’ll what?” he shouted. My father never shouts.

 

I cleared my throat loudly. “I’m, uhm, going out for a little while with Ang! Be back later!” I called over my shoulder as I pushed open the screen porch.

 

“Don’t be back late!” Mom’s voice roared as a little red Toyota pulled up.

 

I slid in the back, smiling at Angela as she started talking full throttle about James and a load of other rubbish. I tuned her out, nodding and agreeing occasionally while wondering who would be at this party and who would drive us home of Angela’s brother drank too much. We pulled into the ritzy neighborhood of Ashawk, driving down streets lined with well-maintained shrubbery and neat gardens.

 

“Scout, c’mon,” Angela said as she hopped out of the car. “What are you gonna do, wait in the car the whole time?”

 

Here goes nothing, I thought to myself before sliding out and adjusting my shirt, walking toward the house. Loud music was blasting, the kind you can feel in your feet as it vibrates the floor.

 

“Angela! Scout!” Bianca Thompson cam barreling toward us the minute we walked in the house. “I’m so glad you came!” she said, throwing her arms around me. She smelled like sweet smoke and far too much beer. It wasn’t long before I got rid of her, pushing her off on Greg Franklins.

 

Turning around, I tried to find someone I knew besides Angela, but she was glued to James like there as no tomorrow. It was hot in the house; too hot. I pushed through the living room, packed with people dancing, to the kitchen, which was no better.

 

“Hey, Scout!” A few people shouted, waving from where they were sitting.

 

I waved absent-mindedly before going out on the deck, which was thankfully deserted in the cold. Slumping down, I closed my eyes and though of everything happening at home. I didn’t want to be here, I didn’t want to be there. Dad was drinking heavily again, and that always puts Mom in a temper, stony silences only to be broken by shrieking and cursing. Sometimes, I just wished everything-

 

“Hey there,” came a voice.

 

My eyes snapped open, staring up into a green-eyed face framed by curly dark hair: Andrew McKinnon.

 

“Oh. Hi,” I said. “Sorry, I thought I was alone.”

 

He slumped down beside me. “Want me to leave?”

 

“No. No, it’s fine. I’m Scout.”

 

“Andrew.” He just sat there, looking across the deck. “So, what year are you in?”

 

“Freshman.”

 

“Oooh. Hey, Freshie,” he teased, poking me on the shoulder.

 

I blushed and giggled. “Shut up,” wishing more than anything that he wouldn’t.

 

“You want me to leave now?”

 

“Yes,” I said.

 

“’ight.” He got up to leave, but I grabbed his arm.

 

“God, I was just kidding. You’re in my study hall, right?”

 

He laughed. “Yeah, and here I thought you never noticed me.”

 

I knew he was just teasing, but I blushed tomato-red anyway.

 

He nodded back toward the house. “Wanna dance?”

 

“Yeah. Sure.” And for the first time, but by no means the last, Andrew reached down, took my hand, and pulled me from the ground. We walked toward the house, his hand still loosely around mine, before Angela spilled out of the door.

 

“Yo! Scout!” Her face was streaked with tears and mascara, her mouth set in a firm line. “We have to go. Now.”

 

“Oh, s**t,” I whispered. “Where’s your brother?”

 

“Harry’s passed out on the couch. Let’s just find a ride and get out of here.”

 

I glanced at Andrew, wondering if he was sober enough to drive. “Can you give us a ride?”

 

“At your service, madame,” he said, smiling and kissing my hand.

 

And that was it. In exchange for a ride, I traded my heart.

 

 

 

Present Day.

                 Nate is holding my hand as we walk into the hotel. It’s smooth and dry, but somehow repulses me. I glance at the clerk, knowing that no one will recognize us here. I guess that’s the point: none of this will be able to get back to his wife.

Author's Note

Another chapter :)