I turn to Chase. “Get rid of this,” I say, handing him the cup and nodding toward the trash can along the wall.
He disappears in the crowd, and I look back to Addison, throwing a quick wink her way. I watch her shoulders relax and the corners of her mouth turn upwards in a soft, relieved smile. She knows I’ll always have her back.
* **
Brantley just left for beer number five. The guy is terrible at reading Addison. How doesn’t he see how angry she looks or how tense her shoulders get with every sip he takes?
I glance at Chase and he looks across to Addison. “She’s pissed. Has every right to be,” he says.
“Yup.” I take a step closer to her. “You good?”
She glares at me.
Chase inserts himself. “He know it bothers you like that?”
“Of course he does.” Her teeth are gritted, the anger built up n her eyes, she will hardly look at me. The music gets louder and so does the crowd.
I lean in towards her ear. “Want me to say something?”
She swallows, finally looking up at me. Of course she wants me to, she just doesn’t want to say it.
“I’ve got it.” I nudge her arm and stand back where I was, leaving the empty space between us for when Brantley gets back.
He comes back with beer in hand and an expression as if nothing is wrong. I guess that by beer number five, you probably don’t care about much. I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had more than two in one sitting.
I turn towards him. “Hey, man,” I start, keeping my voice friendly. “Maybe hold off after that one?”
“Why?” He follows it with a gulp.
I jerk my head towards Addison. “She’s not really into that.”
Brantley shrugs. “It’s a concert.”
“Yeah,” I continue, “but maybe just show her some respect and stop?”
Addison looks away just as Brantley looks to her, and for a second, I think he’s going to argue, but he sighs and looks back at me instead. “Fine. Whatever.” He doesn’t completely roll his eyes, but the desire to do so is clear as day.
Addison mouthsthank youand I give a reassuring yet subtle nod.
The rest of the concert is good—very patriotic and the energy in the room is certainly right there with it. The worst part was probably having to watch Brantley drunkenly slow dance with Addison to one of the love songs. She’s loosened up a little now that he stopped drinking, but I can tell she’s still not loving the effects from the beers he did have.
On our way back to my truck, Brantley is holding Addison’s hand. He’s nottoosideways, I guess. Which isn’t exactly the greenest flag ever.
“Are you sure you feel okay?” Addison asks him quietly, but I hear it. I stare at the back of his head, waiting for his answer.
If he says no, we’re screwed. She’ll panic and refuse to get in the same vehicle as him if there’s the possibility he’ll get sick. Because thenshe’llfeel sick. I know the drill.
“Why do you keep asking?” Brantley’s voice is full of attitude, which I do not like.
“Because I don’t want you to get sick,” she tells him, and I mentally pat myself on the back for already knowing that.
They go back and forth a few more times but I have to tell myself to ignore it. I already stepped in once and I need to watch it. I don’t want to overstep; the last thing I wanna do is have Brantley concerned about Addison’s friendship with me.
* * *
At church the next morning, I keep to myself after Sundayschool. I’m still tired from getting home as late as we did last night. Addison looked it too, but she was still a smiling Chatty Cathy with everyone.
Heading into the bathroom, I feel someone behind me. Holding the door, I look over my shoulder and see it’s Cody.
