I glance down at the beer. Dad likes to have a few at every game since it’s the weekend and all, and this is his second. It’s freezing cold in my hand, so I shift it to my other, then try to disguise it behind my leg.
“C’mon, let’s get back,” Mom says as she grabs the tray of hot dogs. She spins around and nods at me to go ahead as she follows. “Quickly.”
I begin to carefully weave my way around the thick crowd of people, but there are bodies darting back and forth in different directions, and the beer is too cold in my hand, and my steps are growing faster, and I’m glancing between the beer and my route back to our seats, and I trip. Just like that, straight over my own feet. I fall to the ground with a hard smack, landing on my hands and knees on the concrete, and Dad’s beer spills all over the ground in front of me. It happens so fast that I don’t even register any of it until my knees sting with the pain of fresh scrapes.
“Tyler!” Mom gasps, and she rushes to my side, crouching down next to me. “Are you okay? Oh, you’re bleeding! I’ve got Band-Aids in my purse.” Balancing the tray of hot dogs against her hip, she reaches for my elbow and gently pulls me to my feet.
People are staring at me. My heart is pounding too fast. Numbly,I glance down and see that I’ve broken the skin on both my knees. There’s a little blood, not much, and it stings, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I look up ahead at the empty cup that’s on its side on the ground. There’s a stream of Dad’s beer running along the concrete. He’s not going to be happy. My hands tremble, and the panic spreads through my chest until my entire body is shaking. I can’t help it. I’m a quivering mess as I stare at that empty cup. “Dad’s…Dad’s beer…” I mumble. He was happy tonight. He was smiling. I’ve ruined that again. I always do.
“Hey. Hey!” Mom says, stepping in front of me and crouching down again, looking at me with concern from beneath her eyelashes. “It’s okay, Tyler. I’ll just get him another later!” She’s trying to reassure me, but it isn’t enough to stop me from trembling.
Mom throws the empty cup into a nearby trash can and then places her hand on my shoulder, guiding me back to our seats. I feel sick, like I’m going to throw up right here and now in front of everyone. I don’t want to go back to our seats. I don’t want Dad to narrow his eyes at me and clench his jaw like he does whenever he’s mad at me.
We shuffle back along our row as my knees continue to sting. I brush past Dad as quickly as I can, keeping my head down and refusing to look at him, and then I almost run past Jamie and Chase until I collapse into the safety of my own seat at the opposite end from Dad.
“Where’s my beer?” I hear him ask as Mom sits down next to him with the tray of hot dogs. I peek at him out of the corner of my eye, and he’s furrowing his eyebrows at her.
“Oh,” Mom breathes, rolling her eyes, “Tyler had a little fall. I’ll grab you another later. Here, hold this.” She pushes the tray onto Dad’s lap and opens up her purse, searching for Band-Aids.
Slowly, Dad’s gaze moves to me. His eyes meet mine and I freezeunder their power, rooted to my seat, unable to breathe. He presses his lips together. His jaw twitches. “When did you get so clumsy?” he asks.
I can’t answer him. I’m not clumsy. I’m just too caught up in the mental battle I am constantly fighting with myself. Mom sits back and leans over Jamie and Chase, passing me a couple of Band-Aids. She gives me a sympathetic smile, one that’s reassuring, and I focus on that warmth rather than the negative vibes I can sense radiating from Dad.
Tearing the plastic off the Band-Aids, I lean forward and quickly place them over the cuts on my knees. Band-Aids have become a necessity over the past couple years, but they can only fix so much.
14
Present Day
I am crammed into the backseat of Meghan’s shitty, beat-up Corolla as she slowly drives us across town toward Austin’s house. It’s getting dark now and Rachael is controlling the music from up front, while I’m stuck in the back with Tiffani and Eden on either side of me. I have a box of beer in my lap, and it’s tempting to crack another one open just to help me survive this journey. I lock my eyes on the parking brake and fold my arms across my chest, keeping to myself.
Tiffani and Rachael are doing what they do best: gossiping and wondering who will be at the party. They refer to a couple people as losers, but I’m not listening. I never, ever do. I don’t have the energy for it.
Instead, I am thinking about Eden. She’s on my right and I can sense her looking at me, so I glance over, and our eyes meet for a fraction of a second before we both look away again.Yeah, she was definitely staring. It’s weird, I guess. I figure she’s not used to this either. This whole stepsibling thing. I’m trying to figure her out the same way she seems to be trying to figuremeout, but I’m not really getting anywhere. I peek at her again, and because she is staring out of the window now instead, I take the opportunity to fully study her. Her dark hair is straight andlays flat against her back, though thick strands keep falling over her shoulders and framing her face. She’s wearing a lot of makeup. Eyelids painted dark, like smoke. Thick lashes that seem to grow longer every time she blinks. Red lips. I have only seen her a handful of times so far, but I’ve seen enough to know that this isn’t her.
She senses me watching her, because she turns her eyes back to me, but I’ve already glanced away again. She catches me more than once during the rest of the drive, mostly because I can’t help it. It gets pretty awkward after a while, so I eventually stop looking. I focus on staring straight ahead at nothing in particular again for the rest of the trip, never saying a word, even when Tiffani presses her body against mine and starts touching my thigh.
It’s a relief when we finally pull up outside Austin’s place. I don’t even know the guy that well, but of course, he knows us. It’s still super, super early, barely eight thirty, but already the place is bouncing. There are several cars parked out on the street, and there are people standing on the lawn talking to one another. As soon as Meghan cuts her engine, I grab my beer and follow Tiffani out of the car, stretching my legs. I can hear the music already, and I fight the urge to groan. I don’t want to go through all of this again. The excessive drinking, the loud music…
“Hey, Tyler!” someone calls out, and when I glance up, I spot Austin rushing across the lawn to greet us. He’s a short guy, but his grin is big enough to make up for it. He waves his beer at me and, knowing I have to put on a show for the next however many hours, I give him a fist bump. “Glad you could make it,” he tells me.
“Yeah.” I bet he is. I bet he’s glad Tiffani’s here too. We are a permanent fixture at parties, and if we turn up, then it pretty much verifies that the host isn’t a loser. I nod to my beer, desperate to open another. “Kitchen?”
He points to the house and smiles wider. “Yeah. Dump it and come join us.”
I begin to walk, heading across the lawn toward the front door, but I do throw a final glance back over my shoulder at the girls. Tiffani is saying something to Austin, and Meghan is trying to ram her car keys into her purse, and Rachael is staring at the bottle of vodka in her hand. Eden, however, is wearing her usual unreadable expression, but her eyes are wary as she takes everything in. She’s going to regret coming. I just know she will.
Shaking my head, I continue into the house, murmuringheysto everyone who nods at me. A few hours ago, I was in my room, thinking. And now I’m here, at another party, buzzed off beer, acting. I hate this. I hate that this is what I have to do to forget.
I navigate my way through the house, keeping my head down as I enter the kitchen. There is alcohol covering every countertop, and the floor is already sticky with spilled drinks, and I accidentally step on a shot glass, crushing it. I kick the broken pieces out of the way in aggravation.
“I’ve been wondering when you were gonna show up,” someone says, and Kaleb steps in front of me. His eyes are bloodshot, his smile is lazy. He’s high, but that’s not surprising. I can’t remember the last time I saw him sober. “Austin’s letting us do our thing as long as we stay out of the way, so we’re in the fucking backyard shed.” He begins howling with uncontrollable laughter as he reaches up to open the first cupboard he finds, and he steals a packet of cookies. I watch in silence as he stuffs one into his mouth, closes his eyes, and sinks into euphoria. “Oh my God.Amazing,” he mumbles. He opens his eyes again and tries to focus on me. “So, are you joining? It’s good shit tonight, I swear. Look at me! I’mbaked.” Right now, I reallycoulddo with some relaxation. Just acouple hits to put my mind at ease, to numb it. I grab a bottle of beer, pop the cap on the edge of the countertop, and then nod.
“Count me in.”
Kaleb smirks with delight, only because he knows he’s about to make some money off me, and then he turns around, cookies in hand, and heads back through the house. I step behind him, swigging my beer, when someone grabs my shoulder just as I’m about to follow Kaleb outside into the backyard. I pause; it’s Jake.
“You finally made it,” he says. “Where are the girls?”
