“Oh, yeah? You ready for this?” Brian grabs onto Mark’s shoulder and gestures between the two of them.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Ryan, who was it that won the last time?” I mock confusion.
“Oh, why yes, Todd, I believe that was us.”
I stroke my chin. “Yes, that’s right. Thanks for the reminder.” I smile at Brian and Mark.
With that, Brian serves and we all immediately go into a play-to-win zone. Ryan and I are nailing shot after shot.
“Out!” Blythe shouts as her arm gestures to Brian and Mark’s side of the table. “Drink.” She hands them their glasses. We started with the glasses half full for each shot, but I can tell she’s eased up a bit on the portions, which I appreciate. Even though we are winning, I’m definitely feeling it.
Ryan has a perfect hit, which Brian goes for and misses.
“That’s eleven! And the first match goes to Todd and Ryan. Drink up, boys.” Blythe hands the cups to Bri and Mark.
I hear Gretch’s squeal before I see her as she runs up between me and Ry. “You won.” She drapes her arms around him, still wearing her crown, but it’s a bit lopsided now. She looks how I feel, and I know she’s pretty wasted. “I came to give you a good luck kiss,” she says as she attaches herself to him.
I shake my head, yet it makes me think of Ash. I scan the room, but I don’t see her. Where are they?
“All right, all right! Gretchen, remove yourself from my boy please. We’ve got a game to win this time!” Brian shouts over their impromptu make-out session. “Let’s go! Serve the ball, Ryan.”
Brian is clearly on a mission. For this next game, Ry and I have to drink almost every time. I keep squeezing my eyes open and closed to try to focus. Things are getting a little fuzzy, and I know we need to win a few, or I’m going to be in trouble.
I glance over at Ry, and when our eyes lock, I know he’s feeling the same way. Luckily, we win the next few and catch up.
“Gretch, come back over here!” Brian shouts out to the party. “You were a good luck charm for me and MC.” He’s smiling, though I know he’s serious; he’d truly do anything to win. He’s so damn superstitious he taped a four-leaf clover to the inside of his football helmet.
“Yeah, yeah. Serve the ball!” I shout back sarcastically.
“Oh, worried?” Mark says back as he prepares to serve. “Match point.”
MC slams the ball over the net, and Ryan and I both lunge and miss.
“It was in!” Blythe shouts with a smile. I know who she’s routing for.
“Yes!” Brian throws his hands up in the air and then jumps into Mark’s arms. “We won!” He saunters over to Blythe. “That was for you, baby.” He runs his finger down her arm.
I clear my throat. “Um, I believe we are now tied, so calm down over there.” I shake my head with a smile.
“Hey, you two. We’d like to play, so put your Johnson away, Johnson,” Ryan shouts over.
I fist bump him, impressed he could still come up with something that clever since we’re both nowhere close to sober.
“Hamilton.”
I turn to see Casey’s cocky grin as he comes over. I already want to punch it off his face.
“What do you want?” I raise my chin to him.
“I was just curious,” he shouts over the crowd, gathering some attention. Then he slowly looks around the room. “Which girl are you going to hook up with tonight? There’s a cute blonde in the corner over there,” he shouts over the music, he is so calm and casual with a bleach-blonde girl hanging on him and running her finger down his chest in support of this confrontation.
“What did you say?” I feel the hate bubbling up. I don’t know where he’s going with this, but I want him gone.
“Oh, please, I know what happened with Ashley because of one picture. Figured this time you’d do it right out in the open.”
I see red. I thought that was an expression, but it just really happened. I don’t think; I just lunge, needing to wipe that cocky smirk off his face more than anything.
Ryan is fast, pulling me back before my fist can connect with Casey’s face. The girl who was hanging on him screams and jumps back. Guess she’s not that supportive.
Casey’s grin grows even wider as I try to break free, but Ryan has an incredibly firm hold on me.
“What’s your problem, Casey?” Ryan shouts past me as he holds me back.
“Him. First my sister, now yours. He hurts everyone. I’m just looking out for your sister, man.”
“I think she’s good,” Ryan says as he squeezes my wrist out of his own anger now.
“Let me go, Ry. Someone needs to finally shut him up,” I shout back at him.
“Should I let him go?” Ryan asks Brian while I struggle to break free.
Brian looks back and forth between Casey and me, and then his eyes finally settle on Ryan. “Nah, it’s not worth it.” Brian comes up to me and places his elbows on my shoulders. Then he leans forward so only I can hear him. “He’s not worth it, Todd. Trust me. It’s not worth it.” I hear his words, but I can’t comprehend them, or maybe I don’t want to.
“He is. It really is,” I say back to just him.
Brian shakes his head. I know I’m not getting through to him or Ryan, so I shout out to the gathering crowd, “Look at him. He’s all talk. You want to go there, Casey? It’s not like you’re Mr. Faithful.” I look at the blonde who has resumed her position attached to his chest. “I’ve seen what he’s done to girlfriends in the past, so I’d be careful.” I see Casey’s cool façade slip for a second, making it clear I’ve got him, so I go for the jugular. “And what happened with your sister had nothing to do with me. You know that, she knows that, and your parents know that. You needed someone to blame, so you blamed me. Ashley doesn’t want you. Deal with it.”
On that, he lunges for me, and I can only hope Ryan lets go. Instead, Brian grabs Casey, so now we are both being restrained.
I see only Casey, and I want to kill him. That would solve everything. I have felt this way twice in my life, and both were because of him.
I shake my head to try to think clearly, but I can’t. I still want to kill him. I need to permanently wipe that cocky smirk off his face, permanently shut him up.
“Shit, Todd, stop,” I hear Ryan shout, and I know I’m almost free to pummel Casey.
“I need a little help here,” I hear Ryan’s voice again through the blood rushing in my ears.
ASHLEY
I’m outside on Mark’s front lawn with Shane. It’s much cooler out front; the night air is cutting through us now that the house isn’t blocking the breeze. The lawn is littered with people, but it’s far less crowded than the backyard.
I know Shane, and he’s about to lose it, so I grab his hand and start to stroke his back with my other hand.
“What happened?” I say with a small shiver as my body adjusts to the new temperature.
His eyes stay on the grass and scattered dirt in front of us. He’s quiet for a while, just staring straight ahead, but then he finally speaks. “He wants to cool things off.”
I tread lightly, feeling anger building up already. “What does that mean?”
“He wants to take a break. No, he wants to stop everything.”
“Why?”
Shane pulls his hand away from me and starts pulling at the grass that his eyes are still locked on. “Something some stupid scout said.”
“What?” I quickly try to piece everything together, but that doesn’t make any sense.
“One of the scouts he met with started talking about the ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ mentality of the college sports system, and he said something like he didn’t want any fruits on his team. Then he looked at Johnny and said, ‘It’s not like I need to worry about that with you. I’m sure you are dripping with girls.’ Then he winked at him with a smile, but like a guy-to-guy smile, not an I-know-your-secret smile.”
“What did Johnny do?” I try to hide how appalled I am. Though I always knew with sports it was a double standard, hearing it makes me want to punch that scout in the face. A good player is a good player.