Some kids were puking outside, couples were either making out on bales of hay or arguing about Gods know what. Girls held their hair back as the ale betrayed their stomachs. Though I enjoyed taking bets on who’d lose their guts and who’d end the night in tears, it wasn’t my kind of hangout.
Standing by myself, watching the chaos unravel, I knew I shouldn’t have been at the party in the first place. An older kid in town was hosting it while his parents were gone for the weekend. He was a sixth year in secondary school. I was a fourth year and only sixteen. But when Laken, one of my closest and longtime friends, insisted we go and have fun, I couldn’t say no.
“McCarthen.” A boy in his sixth year pulled my attention to him. Looking him over, it took one glance at his black fighting leathers, undoubtedly belonging to an older sibling or someone who could fill them, to know this wasn’t for me. He leanedagainst the wooden post where I’d basically shoved myself into a corner—accidentally trapped. “Got any plans later?”
“Oh, I have to take care of the creatures.” I shrugged; what poor luck.Anyway. Where’s the door?
He shifted on his feet, grinning at the ground before meeting my stare again. “Come on, McCarthen…” The smoke on his breath gagged me.
“I really can’t,” I repeated, trying to sidestep him. “The creatures…” Before I forged more lies, an arm wrapped around my shoulder—along with the smell of mint and honey. I’d know that smell anywhere.Saved at last.
“And if she’s late, there will be hell to pay with the hellblazers.” A young voice full of charm defended my stance. I gazed up at Laken with his shaggy dark-blond hair, wearing a cream tunic that once fit but had become too stretched over his collarbone. His dreamy grin could’ve convinced me of anything.
I caught on to Laken’s lies and where they were going, and the rest poured out of me.
“Feathers and flying, flaming chicken shit everywhere.”
“A nightmare, honestly.”
The guy, whose name I’d yet to catch, shuffled back as he crossed his arms across his chest. He furrowed his brows and glanced between the both of us. Bait and trap set—we needed to keep it going. “Then Laken will have to clean my mess up.”
“Because I always do.” Laken’s hand tightened around my shoulder, and for some reason, my stomach ignited with flurries as I leaned into his side.
“Because he always does.”
Still debating what had unfolded, the guy remained confused and bordered on defensive. “I thought y’all were just friends.”
“Isn’t that how it always starts?” I began before thinking about what I’d said, about what he’d asked. Laken and I were just friends… right? This was just for fun. Or—oh Gods. Did the room start spinning? Was my skin on fire? Did I remember to wear clothes?
“Just friends, they say…” Laken added, “until your hands brush and something changes.” No. The room wasn’t spinning. It tethered around us; Laken’s voice anchored me to our world.
My eyes flickered to his and something changed in the way I saw him. The way he saw me. In the way he held me. In the way we talked and breathed. “He stares at you a little too long and there’s a twinkle in his eye.”
Laken’s lips parted, struggling to find breath because he knew it, too. “And you realize you were never just friends at all.”
Never just friends.
The guy scoffed and I’d forgotten he even existed. Turning to face him one last time, I shrugged. “Holy matrimony after that.”
But I didn’t know then what I’d gotten myself into.
Dates turned into months at each other’s side turned to years of being someone’s everything turned into conversations aboutourfuture. In our last year of school, those talks started to become serious.
Sitting against the wall on Laken’s bed at his parents’house, I fiddled with my thumbs, throat tight. His home had become my second; I spent more time with his family than I did my own. “Laken… what are you—or we—what are we going to do after school?”
Laken furrowed his brows, his eyes softening. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, are you going to want to go off and travel or stay and get jobs, save money, then what?”
A little grin curled his lips, and he lay over my legs, head in my lap. “What do you want to do? We could stay here working with your father.”
Stopping him right there, I rolled my eyes. “Gods, I’m being serious, Laken,” I scoffed.
He sat up. “So am I. You know we both love it, and your father will—”
“My father will never let me have anything to do with it,” I interrupted with pain heavy in my tone. My father had taken that from me long ago, but the wound had yet to heal.
Taking my hand in his, Laken let his thumb trace over mine. “Okay,” he said, slow and easy, “then we’ll do something else. We’ll work and save until we can buy our own place, or we’ll leave and figure it out somewhere else.” Gentle laughter rattled in both of our chests. A moment of silence passed before he kissed the back of my hand. It wasn’t a very good answer. I didn’t think either of us really knew what we wanted to do or be, but as long as we had each other, we’d be fine. “I’ll follow you anywhere, always.”
