“Well, you’re late,” I say and start out the driveway.
Chase glances back at Addison and Brantley. “Hey, lovebirds.”
Addison giggles and Brantley says hi.
I’m glad Chase is going. One of Brantley’s friends was supposed to go instead but he had some family thing come up at the last minute.
As I near the end of the driveway, I catch a quick glimpse of Brantley scooting closer to Addison in the rearview. He doesn’t have his seat belt on, giving him no restriction.
I may or may not press on the brakes a little harder than necessary when I reach the end of the driveway. Brantley’s body bumps into the back of my seat, Chase catches himself on the dash, and Addison, thankfully, stays put thanks to her seat belt.
A collective groan rises from all three of them as I turn left onto the road.
“Whoops. Sorry,” I bite.
“What was that for?” Addie asks, loosening her seat belt from across her chest and stomach.
“Thought I saw a deer,” I lie. “Might wanna buckle up, Brantley,” I add.
Even though my eyes are on the road, I still see Chase staring at me. He’s stifling a quiet laugh and shaking his head. He knew my intention. He knows I like Addison, but we don’t talk about it. Ever. It’s one of those unsaid things between us that he knows not to bring it up.
* * *
It was a long drive, especially when I had to witness Brantley whispering God knows what in Addison’s ear the entire way. Then she’d laugh and they’d kiss or something disgusting. Not thatshe’sdisgusting, but I’d rather smear cow crap all over my face than watch them kiss.
I don’t know what Addison sees in him, honestly. I guesshe’s not ugly, and he has the bull rider thing going for him, but aside from that, he’s really not that great.
At least she seems good, anxiety-wise. She’s been talkative, has color in her face, only asked me to turn up the AC once. It’s a good feeling, knowing I seem to be enough of a comfort to help her get here tonight. Even if it’s overlooked and more for her to prove to Brantley that she can be “normal” sometimes. I’ll take the win.
The line to get in was about a mile long but we’re finally on the main floor, about fifty feet in front of the stage. There are no seats where we’re at; it’s standing room only.
Once the concert finally gets started, the lights go out and music fills the room. I don’t know the last time I was at a concert. I forgot how loud they were.
When Justin Moore comes out, the crowd gets louder, and everyone with actual seats is now on their feet. He jumps right into “Small Town USA” with a giant American flag waving on the screen behind him. He sounds great but he’s way shorter than I expected.
As he fades into the next song, I hear Brantley going back and forth with Addison. I turn to see what’s going on. He’s holding a clear plastic cup full of beer for Addison to take.
“C’mon, it’s one drink,” he insists.
“I’m not even twenty-one.” She laughs, but it’s not her normal laugh…it’s her nervous laugh.
I feel my body stiffen, my shoulders straightening out as wide as they’ll go and my chest puffing out slightly. It doesn’t take an idiot to see Addison’s discomfort. She doesn’t drink, doesn’t even like beer, and like she said, she’s not even twenty-one.
“Nobody knows that here. Don’t be a party pooper. Youcan’t go to a Justin Moore concert and not drink something,” Brantley says, which is enough to have me taking a few steps over, standing in front of him.
“Hey, she said no.” My voice is hard.
Addison sidesteps away, fixing her hair and adjusting her shirt. She does that when she’s nervous—fidgets. If he actually cared enough, like I do, he’d know that. But he doesn’t know her like I do, and he never will.
“Well, I bought two, and they’re eleven dollars, so someone’s drinking it,” Brantley argues. His eyes flash at me and then back to Addison. She looks uneasy enough that I don’t trust she won’t cave.
My throat dries but I manage to muster out, “I’ll drink it then.”
Addisons eyes flash with worry, like she doesn’t believe what I just agreed to.
“Good.” Brantley hands it over and sips his beer before reaching for his phone in his pocket.
I look back at Addison. She’s watching me, waiting to see if I’ll actually drink it.
