Sixteen

Brian

Ispent the day helping the guys build our booth. It took a while, mainly because Frank was in a pissy mood. The more we teased him about the wings, the grumpier he got. But that was how it was amongst us. We teased and teased until the person either exploded or laughed along with us. In this case, Frank would soon explode.

"If y'all don't stop, I can't be held responsible for my actions." He popped his knuckles against his palm, a clear indication of a punch soon to come.

"I thought you had turned over a new leaf. You are an angel, after all. Angels aren't violent, Frank." I was the one to push this time, which wasn't usually like me. Around now, I would be the one telling the guys to cool it and lay off of him, but today…today I was in too good of a mood.

Last night's events were on repeat in my head, causing me to smile the entire time we worked. My cheeks were starting to hurt, reminding me I hadn't felt this way in years. Not since Sam, not since Lizzie before that. I'd been so lost, so torn, and Lizzie was piecing me back together. Hopefully I was doing the same for her.

All the guys turned, staring at me for a moment in surprise, as I was sure they'd do. This was out of character for me, and they knew me well enough to note that. Mason was the one to speak about it first, as always, being the one who didn't know when to shut up.

"Are you feeling alright?" He placed his hand over my forehead, checking for a nonexistent fever. I shoved it away with my forearm, waving him off.

"I'm perfectly fine." I smiled again, shaking my head at them all as I slammed my hammer down onto the last nail. "She's done, guys."

"Uh, no. You're not changing the subject like that." Zayden leaned over the perfectly-leveled booth with a grin of mischief. He was looking for answers, like all of them.

"Yes, I am," I argued, pointing to the paint buckets behind them. "We have painting to do."

"Oh, no you don't!" Frank blocked my path, his broad shoulders appearing twice their size as he closed in on me with his arms crossed.

"You're not getting anything out of me, guys. You might as well accept that now."

I tapped Frank's arm a little condescendingly, taking a step to the right in an attempt to make my way to the paint. Jaysen appeared out of nowhere, blocking my only other path. These four guys had managed to round me with the booth behind me, essentially trapping me in a semi-circle they created.

"Not that we're complaining or anything, but what's got you in such a good mood?" Jaysen asked, his eyes shimmering with curiosity as he squinted with interest.

"You don't know? I decided to make our booth a kissing one and you guys will be rotating shifts. Aren't you excited?" I joked, shrugging my shoulders at them. No one bought it, of course, because they weren't stupid. Jaysen was the newest hire, and that was three years ago. It was safe to say they all knew me more than I would have liked at this very moment.

"I'd love that, but I know that's a lie. You're not that cool." Mason sighed, dangling his head in disappointment at the fact we weren't doing a kissing booth.

"We may be your employees, but we're also your friends. Start talking, Brian," Zayden demanded, his arm still perched on the top of the booth's counter with serious eyes.

"I can't really say. All I can tell you is that I haven't felt this happy in a really long time, so can you just let me enjoy it and know that everything is fine?"

"But curious minds…" Jaysen complained.

"Things are just going well with Liz. How about we leave it at that? And not make assumptions, either." I pointed my finger at them all, seeing wide grins all around. As if they were in middle school, I was sung with ooo's and ah's. "You're all so immature. Now come on. We actually have to paint this thing."

Lizzie

Sorry, Milo is in bed with me tonight. Lil asked to go to some party and he's feeling lonely right now.

Lizzie:

Don't be upset with me. Please! (~_~;)

Brian

I could never. Enjoy your time with little man. Tell him I said hi. I'll see you on Monday.

Lizzie

What about tomorrow night?

Brian

Are we sinning on a Sunday?

I sat perched on my large king-size bed with my arm lazily hung over my head as I stared at my screen with too big of a smile. My stomach turned, wondering if maybe that joke wasn't too funny and now I had caused her to overthink everything again. Thankfully, she replied rather quickly.

Lizzie

Maybe >.>

I laughed, missing her already, but glad she was spending time with Milo one-on-one. I think they needed that…Milo needed that.

Brian

Can't wait ;)

Lizzie

I'll tell you all about Lane and Elle when I see you.

Lizzie

You would be so proud of the way I contained myself and didn't go away for murder.

Brian

Beaming with pride.

Brian

Can't wait to hear all about it.

Brian

Can't wait to be by your side really…

Lizzie

Too sappy. Take it back!

Brian

Taking it back.

I smiled, loving the way we flowed, as if no time had passed between us. We were picking up right where we left off, right before Lyle. It was as if our time could be categorized in two ways: before Lyle, and after. There was no in-between.

I was waiting for her response, but it being eleven and her having Milo by her, I figured she'd probably fallen asleep. With a sigh, I placed my phone on the nightstand, opening my book to see if I could finally finish it. A little Wuthering Heights before bed never hurt anyone.

I was about three pages in when my phone started ringing. Lizzie and I need to chat about when it's okay to call. She's always so spontaneous with it, but I do love it. In a hurry, I reached for my phone, turning it to see it wasn't Lizzie at all. My stomach flipped, reading Lily's name on my screen.

"Hello?" I answered, schooling my tone so she wouldn't hear the absolute concern in it.

"I need help," she whispered, her voice drowned out by the blasting music in the background.

"What? I can't hear you, Lil. Where are you?"

"I'll text you the address. Just…please hurry."

There had never been a time in which I left my house with the speed I did tonight. In two minutes flat I was racing down my street towards the Willard's place on Holly Drive. The Willards had one son — Baxter. Everyone called him Bax and knew him as the star quarterback. The word around town was that Bax threw quite the ragers when his parents were out of the country.

My heart was racing so fast, I was sure it was running faster than my car. My tires peeled as I abruptly stopped in front of the expensive two-story house — scratch that — manor. Teenagers littered the yard in swimwear despite the cold air. In almost everyone's hands were the infamous red solo cups which, judging by the smell in the air, didn't hold soda.

My eyes scanned the crowd, meeting the judgmental stares of teens who'd mutter "creep" when I passed them by. It wasn't until I made my way to the backyard that I spotted her cornered near the tall hedges that surrounded the property. Around her were three large football players, and a girl blocked, almost hidden, behind her. Lil looked ready to take on all three boys by herself, and something told me she'd get a few punches in before they got her.

I strode over, walking past stumbling girls who were clearly at their limit. Memories of a night I'd like to forget kept surfacing, trying to force their way into my mind. Thanks to my time in the Army, I had learned how to compartmentalize, putting this situation above my own trauma.

My eyes were locked on the target ahead, knowing full well if I didn't tread lightly, I would be fist-fighting minors tonight. There was no getting out of jail on that one. I had one favor, and I used it already.

"Lil!" I yelled her name, eyes flaming with fury. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

I knew it was messed up, but the best way out of this was to pretend she was in trouble. Her bewildered eyes quickly changed to shame, catching on to what I was doing. She was her mother's child after all, and the pair were intelligent as could be. She hung her head, putting on the best performance I'd ever seen.

"I am sorry. I just–"

"I don't want to hear it! Let's go! In my car. Now!" The three guys locked eyes with me for a moment, trying to determine who exactly I was. "And you too, Tulip. Your mother's about to blow a gasket."

I couldn't believe the girl Lil was trying to protect — or at least that's what it looked like to me — was Tulip, of all people. The not-so-bright girl furrowed her brow, opening her mouth to say something Lil and I knew would blow it for us. Without a second to spare, Lil grabbed Tulip by the wrist, pulling her along.

"Woah, hold on." One of the guys pulled Tulip's other wrist, halting the girls from escaping as they essentially played tug of war with Danielle's daughter. "They came here to party, Old Man. They don't have to go with you if they don't want to."

"Oh, they're coming! You can either let them go, or I can call Captain Rivera myself to break this party up."

The boy's face soured, his nostrils flaring and his brows pinching in anger. He knew he'd have to let them go, because having the cops called would mean no more ragers at the Willard's. The idiot finally released Tulip, causing the girls to stumble as they'd been pulling the entire time.

"Let's go. Keep up." I kept the act going until the three of us were safe in the comfort of my Mustang, heading towards Danielle's house. "Did you drink?" I asked her, feeling like an overbearing parent, but needing to know this instant.

Would I need to take her to the hospital? Could someone have slipped something into her drink? Before I could spiral out of control, Lil shook her head.

"No. I didn't trust the drinks the moment we got there. They were already poured."

With that worry set aside, my mind was able to wander, freaking out when I remembered her cousin. "Wait. Where's Addie?" I panicked, thinking I had left behind the most innocent and sweetest girl in Willowbrook.

"She's with Kim at her house. She had told me not to come, but I just…" she sighed, regret written all over her face as she stared out of my windshield. "I wanted to be like him."

"Like who? Your dad?" I arched my brow, seeing Tulip from the corner of my eyes gagging as she held her stomach. "Don't throw up back there! Let's talk after we drop her off. You can start by telling me why you called me instead of your mother."

Lil nodded, probably thankful to have the heat off her for a moment. Tulip's health was deteriorating by the second, leaving a sheen of sweat to gleam on her forehead as her face turned a sickly shade of gray. Thankfully, she managed to hold it in until she stepped out of the car and emptied her stomach into the bushes of her lawn.

"I'll walk her to the door," Lil offered, helping Tulip off the ground and holding her upright until they reached the porch. She fell to the corner by her front door, leaving Lil to ring the bell and run away before it was answered.

"Gun it," she told me, and I did.

"Start talking, Hot Shot."

The exasperated sigh that left her made it seem as if I was asking the world of her. "Kim heard about the party through Snapchat and apparently they were doing it in Dad's honor. As a kind of late birthday thing. Well, people kept tagging me in it and asking if I would show. Tulip added in the comments that, according to her mother — who I really should never believe — Dad was a party animal."

She picked at the side of her thumb, the same way her mother did when she felt bad about something. "Addie asked me not to go and told me those parties got way too wild, but for some stupid reason, I needed to see it. I needed to see if I was anything like my dad. So, I took an Uber because she refused to drive me. I'm sure she's still ticked at me. I told Mom I was going to a party, but I didn't mention I would be alone."

"Lil!" I scolded, surprised at the turn of events. "Is that why you called me instead of her?"

"Partly," she shrugged, "but mainly I didn't want to worry her more. Plus, I didn't want her to get arrested again."

"You know about that?" I stared at her for a moment, seeing her worried expression illuminated briefly by the streetlight.

"Yeah. I mean, she's not exactly quiet, and I know how Uncle Lane can be. I saw her deck him. Addie did too, actually. It started a whole thing between her parents, but Addie is happy to see her mom finally stand up for herself."

"Your mom was going to tell me something about them."

"Then I'll let her do it. Will you just take me back to Kim's house? I need to apologize to her and the best cousin in the world." A look of determination settled in those green eyes of her as she stared ahead again. "Please don't tell Mom."

"I won't…but you need to." She rolled her eyes at my response, but I could tell that she would listen. "So…one more question, as you guide me to Kim's house, cause I think you forgot I don't know where she lives. What happened with those guys and Tulip?"

"Stay straight," she instructed before diving into her story. "I'd been keeping to myself for the most part, trying to avoid the kids that just wanted to ask me questions. Stupid questions, like if Mom really killed Dad or not. I'm getting tired of that insensitive rumor."

Her hands opened and closed as she recounted the events of the evening, clearly still frustrated. "Anyway, I noticed these guys just kind of circling Tulip and handing her a drink anytime her cup was empty. They were trying to get her drunk, and at first I didn't care. Thought ‘that's what you get', but when they tried to take her stumbling self to the house, I couldn't just watch. That's when I called you, before I got the group's attention." I was proud to hear her stand up for someone she had just punched not that long ago. Her heart was pure, just like her parents. "Turn right here," she guided me.

"You're a good kid, Lil. Just like your father. He didn't enjoy parties like everyone thought. He went because it was expected of him. Back then, he would do a lot of things to meet other's standards. I later learned he hated it, making idle chit chat just because he had to. Yet when he was at a party, you knew all the girls were safe. He was this watchful eye who would call anyone out if they were doing something suspicious. Of course, he would do it in a way that kept him from losing his popular title, usually egging on the guys with an ‘I'm sure you could get a sober girl to sleep with you.' You did exactly what he would have done."

"Really?" she questioned, her eyes wide, looking like a picture I had once seen of her at eight. Her hands tucked her black hair behind her ears, straightening in her seat with pride.

Lil directed me the rest of the way to Kim's house, feeling more confident than when I had first picked her up. I just hoped for her sake, Addie would forgive her. She was definitely her father's child, having the same values but with her mother's attitude.

This girl is going to set the world on fire.

"Don't forget to tell your mother, Lil," I reminded her as I pulled into her friend's driveway. The picture of an upper-middle-class suburban home.

"I won't."

I watched her enter the house, greeted by her cousin and friend in a tight embrace. They would forgive her, or so it seemed. Friends didn't hug each other like that when they were mad. Now that Lil was safe, my mind didn't have anything else to focus on, pulling on the memory I pushed back all night. A blurry one due to my own intoxication at that time.

22 Years Ago

"Look at him go!" James yelled out to the crowd as I tapped the keg in a handstand over the metal. The tip of the mohawk I had started growing grazed against the keg, feeling the thing move my entire scalp. I had so much gel in my hair, I could feel anytime it touched something, since the whole thing would move.

"Chug! Chug! Chug!" The crowd chanted, sophomores, juniors and seniors alike, enjoying the show the freak was putting on for them.

The mixture of the blood flowing to my head along with the buzz of alcohol caused my head to spin so much I knew I wouldn't last too long. Not wanting to embarrass myself, I hopped down from the keg to a crowd of awes and a few boos. I stumbled as I stood, caught only by the foot I extended behind me.

"Who's next?!" James yelled out, moving the party right along.

I was already an afterthought, blurred into the background even with the spikes on my head. Finding my way inside, I spotted the kitchen island littered with various bottles of tequila, vodka, and some Crown Royal. Deciding I needed more, I threw back three shots of Vodka.

I'd never drunk before. Mom would have killed me. She was dead now, and Dad was just as dead to me. After what he did, I'd never forgive him. Who sleeps with their wife's hospice nurse as she dies in the next room?

So what was there to lose? Lizzie wasn't even here, visiting Elle to see her sister's dorm room for Labor Day weekend.

I am alone.

I stumbled my way to the bathroom, feeling the need to take a leak like no other. The line was way too long. Time to go find a tree. Despite the ground moving and the walls sliding, I managed to make it back outside.

James needs to fix his house. It shouldn't be so hard to walk in. Oh! That bush looks good.

I relieved my bladder, accidentally getting some on my shoe. "Shit!" I cursed, stumbling as I zipped my pants back up.

Maybe I should call Lizzie? She'd think it was funny I peed on my shoe. I fumbled with my phone, squinting at it as I adjusted my vision.

Shit. I think the thing is broken.

"Hello?" she answered after the fifth ring, her voice groggy with sleep.

Fuck! What time is it?

"Hey, Lizzie, baby."

Baby?

"Bry?" she questioned, sounding a little more awake.

"You'd never guess what I just did?" A random hiccup left me as I tried to make my way back to the drinks inside. "For fuck's sake! James has a weird ass house. You can't walk right here."

"Bry, are you drunk?" The disapproval in her tone hurt more than anything.

This was a stupid idea.

"You know what? I'll call you tomorrow. Sorry I woke you."

"No, wait…"

I hung up before she could say anything else, tucking my phone back in my pocket. I could feel it vibrating, knowing that she was probably calling me back. Despite James' odd lawn, I made it back to the sliding door.

Oh my gosh! I'm not the only one with a mohawk? I furrowed my brow, trying to discern what asshole decided to copy me. Oh, wait. That's just me. I laughed at myself, sliding the glass door, moving my reflection with it.

The ache in my chest felt small, but not entirely gone. I need more vodka. I took two more shots, spilling the third on myself. In the midst of my refill, a random large hand took my glass from me.

"Hey, man! That's my fluid."

That's not the word. What's it called again?

"And that — right there — is why I'm taking it." He pointed his finger at me as if to prove something. "You need to stop, man."

That stupid hand was attached to none other than Lyle Foster, the golden boy of the town. With an arm like his, everyone knew he'd be the new quarterback in no time. What would Lyle Foster know of heartache? Of needing to drown out his sorrows?

"I is fine."

"You is not," he threw back.

What an idiot. That makes no sense.

"Fine. I'll just make myself another one."

"Brian, I know what you're doing. This isn't healthy. Let me take you home."

"Fuck that! I don't have one of those anymore. Not really. My home is at a college right now."

Lizzie isn't here.

"You're making no sense. I'm worried you're going to give yourself alcohol poisoning."

"Don't worry ‘bout me. I handle myself fine."

"Brian, you have two options. Either I get us a ride to take you home willingly, or I throw you over my shoulder and into their trunk. I'm not afraid of kidnapping you." Serious green eyes stared back at me, urging me to choose the easy way.

"Asshole," I muttered, trudging towards the front door. No way was I going to let this guy carry me out in front of most of the kids at our high school. I was only a freshman at Willowbrook, and being the kid with the dead mom had set a very bleak tone for the years ahead.

"That's okay, Brian. Call me what you like. You probably won't remember this tomorrow. But I will. I will know you got home safe, that I didn't let someone drink themselves to death."

"What do you care?!"

"Who knows? Now let's go. I'll get you a ride."