Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

Oh, Thank God

Skye

The stomach issues from this whole nightmare are going to be legendary. My hands are shaking as I climb into the driver’s seat and turn the engine over. It isn’t until I’ve pulled out onto the street that Violet speaks.

“Can I say something now?”

Every time she’s tried to speak I’ve told her it had to wait until we were in the car. “I need you to be honest with me.”

“Last night I came back to Sid’s after the emergency Mathlete’s meeting in which both Toby and Michael had full on meltdowns that included hyperventilating, which was fun, and the house was full of Buck’s friends. And apparently they call him that because his front teeth are missing. I think it’s supposed to be some kind of joke. Anyway, he was wasted and so were all his idiot friends. I mean, I guess a few of them probably weren’t idiots, but the booze definitely impacted the level of stupidity going on last night. It was a shitshow.”

“The red plastic cups and the horrible number of condoms made that pretty clear,” I grind out.

“I’ve never witnessed so much exhibitionism in my life.”

“Oh my God. Your innocence is gone,” I lament.

“Maybe we should stop and get me a milkshake. I don’t know that driving while having this conversation is the best idea,” Violet says.

I try to strangle the steering wheel. “Did anything happen between you and Miller? He was naked .”

She points to the right and I pull into the drive thru line up. There are four cars ahead of us.

“When I put Buck to bed last night he was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. But I imagine he gets pretty hot with all that fuzz he’s sporting.”

“Why did you put him to bed? And what were you doing in his bed in the first place?” My voice is too loud. A teenage couple entering the restaurant stop to stare for a second. I roll up my window.

“Can you stop yelling? I’m two feet away. I get that you’re freaking out, but I feel like maybe the volume doesn’t need to be so high.” Violet pushes her glasses up her nose.

I drop my volume to a reasonable level. “I just need some answers, Violet.”

“I know. I’m trying to explain. Like I said, Buck was a mess. He started talking a bunch of nonsense and ended up throwing up all over the hallway. It was disgusting. I had to clean it up. And then he spent another twenty minutes in the bathroom regurgitating everything he’d put in his stomach, which was excessive and repulsive, but at least that stuff was flushable.”

“Move the story forward, Violet.”

“Right. Yeah. Anyway, I had to get all these people out of the house, which took freaking ages. Buck passed out in the bathroom for a while and then I finally got him into his bed, which was a feat because he’s huge and I’m me.” She points to herself.

We pull up to the drive thru and Violet orders half the menu. I pay for the obscene amount of food I’m sure she’ll never finish and then wait as the line of cars moves forward at what feels like a snail's pace.

“So I get him into bed and I make sure he’s lying on his side, because that’s what you’re supposed to do with intoxicated people.”

“How do you know that’s what you’re supposed to do?”

“I learned it in health class, maybe? Or when I took that Red Cross course? Anyway, drunk people aren’t supposed to sleep on their backs because they could asphyxiate on their own vomit. And while the whole party thing was horrible to come home to, I think a slightly trashed house is highly preferable to something like that happening. But Buck kept rolling over onto his back. So I kept having to roll him back onto his side. Which means I had to stay awake until, like, six in the morning, monitoring him and making sure he didn’t die. He owes me so big.” She crosses her arms and waits as we pull forward and the drive-thru kid passes over three enormous bags.

I pull over and park. “So, nothing happened between you and Miller?”

Violet wrinkles her nose. “You mean other than me cleaning up his vomit and making sure he made it through the night?” She opens the first bag and pulls out a breakfast tray of pancakes. “Man, I'm hungry.”

“He was naked.”

“Can we not keep bringing that up? Buck’s dangler is the last thing I want to think about when I’m about to eat a maple syrup dipped sausage.” She spears a sausage link with a fork.

“So all you did was make sure he was okay? That’s it?” I’m still gripping the wheel so tightly my knuckles are white.

“ That’s it ?” Violet stops with the fork half an inch from her mouth. “I had to prod a hundred teenage hornballs out of the house and the yard, clean up the mess he made in the hallway, and stayed up until six in the morning to make sure he didn’t die. I feel like ‘that’s it’ is downplaying how kickass of a stepsister I’m gonna be.” She takes a hearty bite of sausage link while glaring at me.

“So nothing sexual happened?” I ask.

“What?” Violet flails and her sausage link goes flying, as do her pancakes. The syrup flips over and lands on her leg, then slides down her shin and hits the floor. A pancake lands on the dashboard and another lands on the center console. “Oh my God! Ew! No!” she gags dramatically. “Seriously, mom? Did you miss the part where he hurled all over the hallway? Or the part where I’m vying for top spot as stepsister of the fucking millennium? You’re dating his freaking dad, who might end up being my stepdad. There is a less than zero percent chance I would ever entertain that scenario. Also, he’s not even remotely my type. Nothing against hockey players, but they all seem to be relentless horndogs and my energy is currently funneled into getting into a great college, not fumbling my way through lackluster sexual experiences with dude-bros.” She looks down at her lap. “Jesus. Why am I covered in pancakes and syrup?”

“Oh, thank God.” I release the steering wheel and burst into tears.

“Mom? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

I try to reassure her, but it comes out as a relieved sob.

“Mom? Ma? Mummy?”

I hold up a hand and shake my head.

“Did you honestly believe something happened between me and Buck? I feel like I have to call him Buck instead of Miller until the end of time now. Wait. Is this because you’ve been reading those smutty stepbrother romance novels again in your book club?”

I get myself under control enough to say, “He was naked.”

“I was fully clothed. And his room smelled like vomit and dirty socks.”

“I panicked.”

“Clearly,” I say.

I hand Violet a napkin.

It sticks to her fingers, so she uses the bottom of her shirt instead.

“I need a shower, and your car needs to be detailed. I have no idea where that sausage went, either.”

“Why don’t we go home and get cleaned up?” I need half an hour to get over this before I call Sidney.

“That seems reasonable.”

I pull out of the spot while Violet cleans her hand with a wet wipe and then digs around in another bag, producing a container of french fries.

“I can’t believe you actually thought something happened with me and Buck,” she muses as she pops a fry into her mouth. “He’s got a lot of chest hair for a seventeen-year-old and, logically speaking, he’s only going to get fuzzier with time and hormones. Also, that he takes out his front teeth to entice random girls is a little weird.”

Her phone buzzes and she spends the next minute trying to find it. “Buck texted me.” She frowns and pops another fry into her mouth as she reads the message.

“What did he say?”

“Oh, this is interesting,” Violet mumbles.

“Interesting how? What did Buck say?”

“He apologized, then asked what happened last night, and followed it up by saying he hopes he didn’t do or say anything inappropriate.”

“So he doesn’t remember? Poor Sid. I need to call him. He must be losing his mind. Apparently Buck is a real Casanova.”

Violet snorts. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.” She punches in a message in response.

“Are you messaging him back? What are you saying?”

“That he owes me for making sure he didn’t die last night, and that he didn’t do anything inappropriate.” She pops another fry into her mouth. “I would have made him sweat a little longer if I didn’t feel bad for Sidney. No wonder you two were freaking out so hard. I bet Buck is going to be grounded for eternity.”

“Yeah. Probably.” At least we don’t have to call off the engagement.

* * * *

“How’s Violet?”

“She’s already in bed. She was exhausted.”

“I bet.”

Sidney ushers me inside the house and I follow him through the kitchen, which has been cleaned, to the backyard, which I’m also assuming has been cleaned since there are no red cups littering the lawn. “How’s Buck? I mean, Miller.” Violet is now insisting she call Miller by his nickname rather than his given name.

“He’s banished to his room with no TV and no devices until the end of time. He cried when Violet texted. He really couldn’t remember what happened.”

I press my hand to my chest. “It’s sweet that he cried, but scary that he couldn’t remember.”

“Hence, his being grounded for life.” Sidney’s gaze drops to my bare ring finger.

“It’s in my nightstand drawer. I figured we should probably let the dust settle before we go sharing the news.”

“That’s a good idea. He was really worried that he’d messed things up. So was I, to be honest. I can’t tell you how relieved I was when Violet texted.”

“I cried loudly in a fast-food parking lot, then relief binged on burgers and fries.”

“That sounds like a reasonable thing to do.” He wraps his arms around me. “Lesson learned, huh? Miller will stay with his grandparents when I go away, since I can’t trust him on his own.”

“How does he feel about that?”

“He knows he has to earn my trust back after this.”

Sidney releases me when there’s a knock on the sliding glass door. I turn to find Miller standing on the other side, looking a lot like a sad golden retriever. His big shoulders are hunched, one of his thumbs is tucked into his shorts pocket and his bottom lip slips through his teeth.

Sidney motions for him to open the door.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I saw Skye’s car in the driveway. I can come back later, though. Or maybe you don’t really want to talk to me right now.” He drops his head and stares at his feet.

I glance at Sidney. “It’s okay. Is there something you want to say, Miller?”

He nods and rubs the back of his neck. “I uh…my dad really likes you. Like a lot. And I like you a lot, too. And I know I fu—messed up this weekend. And that Violet is only sixteen and what I did was stupid and dangerous. Especially because I got hammered and then she had to be the one to take care of me instead of the other way around. And that’s not to say she can’t take care of herself. But all my friends were here, and she doesn’t know them and some of them can be real douchebags, but I don’t think they were douchebags to her.” He sucks in a long breath. “Anyway, I wanted to say that I’m sorry. And I promise to do better. I’ve never had the chance to be an older brother, but I think Violet would be a great sister, even if we’re both almost adults and I’m probably going to be on a farm team in a year. So, yeah. I’m sorry and it won’t happen again, and not just because I’m grounded until I move out.”

“It wasn’t your best choice, but you’re a teenage boy, and your kind aren’t known for making the best, rational decisions. I forgive you.”

His head snaps up, his eyes wide with surprise. “You do?”

“It can’t ever happen again.”

“It won’t. I promise.”

“I’ll wax your arms and legs if it does.”

He rubs the fuzz on his forearm. “That’s a fair and just punishment.”

I open my arms. “Want a hug?”

He nods and engulfs me in his enormous arms. He smells like body spray, sweat and dirty socks. “Thanks for being so cool, Skye.”

“It’s easier for me since I’m not the one who has to dole out or enforce the punishment. Remember this moment when you feel like giving your dad a hard time about it?”

“You should go to bed, son. You have a busy day and practice tomorrow after school,” Sidney says.

“Okay. Good night. And tell Vi I’m sorry again. And thanks for making sure I didn’t die like an asshole.”

“Will do.”

Miller disappears back inside and trudges upstairs to his bedroom.

“I think when you’re ready, we can probably tell them?”

Sidney’s eyes light up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think Violet already suspects something, anyway.”

“How about a barbecue later this week?”

“That would be perfect.”