Me: Yeah, soz
Me: Hey, I miss u! Can’t wait to c u tomorrow.
Rachel: I miss you too. Tell your mom I said hi.
Me: Will do.
16
Randy
I lean on the kitchen counter and watch the girls as they laugh and talk to one another. Makeup, hair accessories, bottles of pink champagne and crystal flutes cover our kitchen table. Shelby is curling Letti’s hair while Dani is adding jewels to her face.
“What are you looking at?” Dani asks me. “You have a weird frowny look on your face!”
“Just wondering what the hell you are doing?”
Now she’s frowning at me. “Putting on face jewels, it’s New Year’s.” She shrugs like the answer is obvious. “Don’t worry, I got some for you and Rachel too,” Dani says, the center of her forehead displaying a sparkly jeweled pattern. It actually looks really good. Her face is decorated in jewels that are black and navy, and she has done an amazing job—not that I’m going to tell her that. The girls are fully relaxed, all rocking various oversized Raptors shirts—something we have in abundance around here—and comfy shorts as they chat and dance away while they are getting ready.
“Uh, yes, of course, silly me.” I point my beer toward her. “But FYI, I’m not wearing those.”
She pouts. “Oh, come on!”
“Hard pass, Dani.”
“I’m not going to let you be a party pooper. After a few shots you will change your mind.” She shrugs, turning her back to me because apparently our conversation is over.
Hmm, she is probably right; it wouldn’t be the first time she has put makeup on me. Dani is stunning and hard to argue with, and when she was twelve, it was even harder. I rode home from Christian’s a few times with blue eyeshadow, orange cheek bones, and bright red nails. It’s a weird experience when you’re a fourteen-year-old male taking a shower and glitter starts streaming all down your body, and it’s then and only then that you realize it wasn’t hairspray she was putting in your hair. Then the next day at school everyone was wondering why I was rocking glitter, because for the life of me I couldn’t get it all off.
The front door opens and closes as Tyler walks into the kitchen dressed in attire ready to celebrate the night. Gray slacks and a light blue shirt that only enhance those wolf gray eyes that drive the women crazy…this Stone is smart!He shoots me a smile and gives a head nod in greeting as he swaggers toward Dani with pretty much the same look I just gave her.
“Hey,” Dani says to him in welcome. She takes a sip of her champagne as she watches her brother. He looks over our kitchen table full of makeup, spotting all the packets of jewels. Picking one up and examining it both front and back and knowing his sister all too well.
“Stay away from me with these,” he says, chucking the packet of jewels back on the table.
“That’s not going to happen!” She throws back with confidence, taking another sip of her champagne.
He takes the glass from her hand, throwing back the remaining pink bubbly liquid.
“Hey,” she scolds him.
He screws his face up in disgust. “Egh, that tastes like shit.”
“Beer, man?” I ask him on a laugh as I push off toward the fridge.
“God, yes, anything to wash that crap down.”
Tyler’s cut back on his drinking, stepped away from the party scene, and focused on fitness. He looks stronger, more in shape, and his hard work on the ice and in the gym is paying off. Christian is relieved, and so are we that he has snapped out of his overly partying ways from last semester.
“You’re looking good, man,” I say to him as I pass him a beer from the fridge. I don’t think I have ever seen our fridge this full of alcohol. Usually there is some butter, or at least one condiment squeezed in there somewhere, but not today. Once we all put our beer in there and picked up the girls’ drinks, we could barely shut the fridge.
“Thanks, man,” he says, throwing back some beer. “Coach really laid down the law and gave me a big wake-up call. So no more partying every weekend like before, and he found me a tutor to help me get my grades back up.”
I slap him on the shoulder in admiration. “That’s good; proud of you, bro.”
The door opens and closes as Christian, Seth, and Walsh stroll in with their hands full of groceries for the barbeque. Christian places the bags on the kitchen countertop while Walsh and Seth do the same. The kitchen area is filling up—not only with people, but we are now completely out of countertop space.
Christian whistles when he opens the fridge and observes the lack of space. “Wow, I guess we better start cooking and drinking now,” he says.
