Home > The Summer of '98

The Summer of '98
Author: Tay Marley

 


Dedication

 

 

To the readers. This book wouldn’t have happened without you.

 

 

MAY 28, 1998


   Ellie

 


There were rules when it came to attending an open frat party. I’d seen them in Teen Cosmo while at the nurse’s office waiting room when my mom had an allergy shot a few weeks ago. I read the article as a way to pass the time. But now that I was at an actual frat party for the first time, I was reciting those rules in my head—I wanted to follow every step.

   Alpha Theta Phi was one of the biggest frat houses in Waco, Texas. It belonged to Baylor and was along the same road as the several other fraternities and sororities. It smelled like stale beer and it looked like someone emptied a thousand trash bags and scattered garbage across the house. Nothing was broken. It was just a mess of beer bottles, solo cups, and glow sticks. It might be a nice place in between parties, but from what I’d heard, there was never much of a breather.

   My best friend Amber managed to convince her sister, Sasha, to let us come along tonight. Sasha’s boyfriend is in the frat, and he, along with the rest of the house members, decided to throw the doors open to whoever wanted in as long as we paid a twenty-dollar entrance fee. They were trying to save so that they could fund a summer vacation in Mexico.

   The first rule was obvious: Don’t leave your drink unattended. No issue there. Don’t take your shoes off. Looking at the floor, that one made sense. Don’t steal. Who would do that? Don’t eat from the fridge. Don’t break house items. Don’t wear anything you care too much about. That last one was harder. I wanted to look cute and all my clothes were treasures, considering I didn’t have a huge wardrobe. Don’t go to the bathroom alone. Again, another rule that made sense.

   “Amber!” I shouted over “I Love Rock ’n’ Roll.” It was a shame that I was so desperate to pee—I loved this song. “Amber! I need to go to the bathroom!”

   It was useless. She couldn’t hear me. Or if she could, she was too drunk to respond. I reached out to give her a quick tap because her eyes were closed as she danced to the music with some cutie named Eric. He was from Colorado; he was here with a friend. That was all I’d acquired so far. When my fingers lightly connected with Amber’s cheek, she startled and snapped her eyes open.

   “I’m bursting! Can you come with?”

   Making our way off the dance floor, we headed to the staircase to find the bathroom. I wasn’t inexperienced with drinking or parties, but I hadn’t been to one like this before. If Momma found out I was here, she’d blow a fuse. But Amber convinced me that it was the perfect way to celebrate our graduation.

   We pushed our way through the crowd.

   “Eric is so hot, right?” Amber slurred, we held onto each other—well, she held onto me—as we stumbled up the staircase. “He reminds me of Will Smith. But with more hair and a sharper jaw. He’s so funny and sweet. Do we look good together?”

   “You look perfect together.”

   “Am I being a bad friend? I shouldn’t be chilling with a boy, should I? I’ve ditched you.”

   “No, it’s fine! You came out to have fun. It’s good. I’m fine.”

   And I was. Amber was always there for me when I needed her. She was one of those friends that was so familiar, she felt more like a sister. We could go three weeks without talking and fall right back into a routine when we saw each other again. Or we could spend three weeks straight together and never get sick of it. I loved her and I’d never stand in the way of her meeting a cute boy.

   “Okay, good,” she said. “You know I told him that as soon as school is out, I’m getting this ’fro twisted into locs and he said that I would look super cute and he approves and I said, I didn’t ask for approval! But thanks, and then he said he loves a confident woman and I don’t think a boy has ever called me a woman before, but damn do I feel sophisticated.”

   I laughed. “Make sure you get his number. He sounds like a total babe.”

   “Right?!”

   As soon as we hit the landing upstairs, Amber was intercepted by a friend of Sasha’s—Aliyah was her name. There was no way that I was going to wait while she had her drunk cuddles-and-catch-up. Normally the two had nothing to do with each other, but with the way they carried on, you’d think they were best friends.

   I told Amber that I’d be back in a minute and dashed up the corridor where the bathroom was open. I slammed the door shut and locked it, breathing a sigh of relief when I finally got to sit down. There was something so uncomfortable about getting blackout drunk in a huge house of strangers, so I’d opted for being the sober friend tonight. There had to be one. But in place of beer, I’d downed a fair amount of soda.

   When I was done, I gave my outfit a quick once-over in the mirror. Summer had barely started but I was a sun-kissed olive due to the weather we had almost year-round. My strapless crop top and denim midrise jeans were free of alcohol spillage and I was thoroughly impressed with how well the double-sided tape had kept my top from slipping down while we danced. The rules might have been to wear something dark and cheap, but I was proud of how well I was keeping free of spills. Perhaps it helped that I was sober.

   When I opened the door, I froze—a group of guys had gathered in the hall. Ducking and weaving through them, I awkwardly made my way toward the staircase; luckily, they weren’t paying any attention to me at all. But there was one boy who watched me with his deep-brown eyes. His dark, unkempt hair was effortlessly wavy in a tidy mess and his fitted T-shirt accentuated what appeared to be an incredible physique.

   When I stole a glance behind me on the way to find Amber, he was still looking at me with a small, curious smile that made my heart hammer.

   When a hand gently touched my shoulder, the beautiful boy was there behind me. “Hey,” he said.

   “Hey.”

   “I’m Leroy Lahey.”

   “I’m—”

   “Stunning,” he interrupted, and I couldn’t help but laugh. He shook his head and almost looked as though he was blushing. “Sorry, go on.”

   “I’m Ellie Livingston.”

   “That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

   I laughed and folded my arms across my chest. “Do these lines usually work for you?”

   “Lines?” he said. “Why would I use cheesy pick-up lines when the truth is so much more accurate?”

    “Like I haven’t heard that one before,” I teased.

   He slid his hands into his pockets. “Believe me, Ellie. The fact that my heart almost leaped out of my chest when I saw you is not something I could make up.”

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