“It’s such a nice night, Reed. Sit down on the tailgate with me and let’s talk. It’s not like either of us have much to go home to,” she says, and I guess she’s not wrong about that. We move to sit on the tailgate, and I guess it’s weird, but it sort of feels like I’m cheating on Callie like this. That’s absurd, because obviously Callie and I have never been more than friends—and now we’re not even that. Mitch and I had a knockdown, drag-out fight after I found out he was taking her to the prom. I ended up with a black eye and some sore ribs. My brother faired pretty much the same, minus the black eye—which for some reason pissed me the hell off.
“You really are hung up on that chick, aren’t you?” Chas asks, and I frown at her.
“Don’t know what you mean,” I lie.
“Oh, come on. The entire school is talking about how you and Callie are fighting. I’d have to be stupid not to see how you feel about her. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because if I hadn’t broken up with Mitch, he probably would have left her alone.”
“Eh, he’s not Callie’s type. It’s just one date,” I mutter.
“Not really,” she says, rooting around in the back of truck behind some milk crates I keep in there. They’re full of stuff like booster cables, a small air pump that runs off the cigarette lighter, that green gunk you put in a flat tire—essential shit really if you’re driving a truck put together on a shoestring budget.
“Huh?” I ask, wanting to know what she meant by that. Not really? What in the hell does that mean? Callie hasn’t gone out but once with Mitch—tonight. Honestly, I didn’t even seen them together when I was in there. “And what are you looking for?” I don’t keep the annoyance out of my voice. I don’t think I could if I tried.
“This!” she says, turning back around holding a bottle of tequila in her hand.
I can feel the wrinkles deepen on my forehead and I frown when I see the bottle. “Where did that come from?”
“I had a friend leave it here for me.”
“In my truck?” I growl. When you have a father and a brother like I do, alcohol is the last thing you want around you. I might drink a beer or something here and there, but that’s about the extent of it.
“You know the problem with you, Reed?”
“You?” I mutter—which just makes her laugh.
“You need to loosen up. You’re much too uptight. We’re only young once. You need to learn to live while you can. That’s what I do,” she says, taking a swig out of the bottle. “People talk shit about me, but I don’t give a damn. I am who I am. I’m going to fucking enjoy life while I can. That’s what you need to do, Reed.”
She hands the bottle over to me and I swear to God, it looks like she’s daring me to take a drink. I shake my head no. She rolls her eyes and takes another drink.
“What has being Mr. Nice Guy ever got you, Reed? There’s a reason they say nice guys finish last. Don’t you get sick of coming in last?”
“I don’t know what you mean. I’m not coming in last on shit.”
“Oh yeah? How about the fact that Mitch and Callie have been fucking like rabbits?”
“Bullshit. There’s no way Callie would sleep with Mitch.”
Chas lets out a laugh that simultaneously grates on my nerves and scares me. “You’re so cute, Reed. You know, Mitch was right about you. You always see the best in people. That’s going to be your downfall.”
“You know as dates go, Chas, your small talk sucks,” I snap, yanking the bottle out of her hand.
“Nah, although if you loosen up, I might show you exactly how I suck.”
“I told you when I turned your offer down to come by your house when you asked me to the prom that we’d only be going as friends.”
“Friends fuck, Reed,” she says with a grin.
I take a drink, wincing as it goes down. I realize I don’t drink much, but this shit tastes bitter. I make a face as I pull it down to look at the brand on the bottle.
“This shit sucks,” I complain. “And we don’t. Why would you want to sleep with me anyway? I mean, you know I’m in love with Callie.”
This is the first time I’ve admitted it out loud. Hearing it makes my heart flip-flop in my chest.
“You’re kind of naïve, Reed. Sex doesn’t have to have a damn thing to do with love. Sex is made to enjoy.”
“Maybe for you,” I mutter. “I’d prefer it to mean something.”
“Jesus. You’re a virgin.”
I wince, taking another drink, the taste starting to grow on me. “So? There’s no shame in waiting for the one,” I grumble, and hell, even I think I’m sounding like a little girl at this point.
“You think Callie is the one?” she asks, and when I look up, I can see her staring at me. There’s something in her eyes that should send off alarm bells. Logically, I know that, but I can’t seem to care. I look at the alcohol. I’ve barely drank any really. The bottle is about three-quarters full, but I can already tell I have a buzz going on. That shouldn’t be possible—maybe it’s in my head.
“Yeah, I knew the minute I first saw her,” I respond. “Is it hot in here?” I start pulling off my coat.
“Not really,” she replies. “Take another drink.”
“I think I’ve had enough,” I argue. As if to prove it, I feel a little dizzy.
“What you need is a little sexual relaxation, Reed. You have to have all kinds of pent-up sexual frustration inside of you.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. It’s the damn truth. I’ve wanted Callie for so long that I can almost taste her.
“If I prove that your sweet little Callie isn’t so sweet, maybe you’ll let me fix that ache you’ve got inside of you,” Chas purrs.
I don’t want that, but there’s no way she can prove that Callie isn’t everything I’ve always wanted, because she is. We lost our way and I let it go too fucking long. I need her. I’m tired of her not seeing what’s right in front of her. Of course, I want to be her friend, but I want more. Right now, it feels like every aching minute I’ve spent wanting to make her mine is barreling down on me. I’m literally aching for her right now. My cock is hard as a rock—so hard that it’s painful. I look at Chas, but as proof that I’ve probably drank too much, I begin to feel woozy. It’s Callie’s eyes looking back at me for a minute—Callie’s full, cherry lips beckoning me to kiss them. I shake my head, trying to clear it.
“I have proof, you know,” Chas says, and I can’t remember what she’s supposed to have proof of. It’s so weird how I keep seeing parts of Callie looking back at me. What’s going on?
I close my eyes for a minute, everything swimming around me.
“Proof?” I ask, not sure what we’re talking about. “You know your tits are really big,” I blurt out. “It feels really hot out here,” I mumble, my words almost sounding slurred. I claw at my shirt, undoing the buttons as dots of sweat line my brow.
“Take another drink. It will help,” she says, and I don’t want to, but for some reason I do anyway.