When the song changed, Cass and I squealed, and I downed the remainder of my drink. I threw the paper cup into the fire and bounced up and down with Cass, our hands in the air as we belted out the chorus to Rage Against the Machine’s “Killing in the Name Of.” There were a few other people doing the same around the yard, shouting the words, getting hyped up as the outro neared.
Cass was on form as Noah came sauntering around the corner with a sway in his step. He eyed her greedily as he leaned against the back of the couch, sipping his beer. She wasn’t oblivious to him and she directed the lyrics at him, emphasizing the “fuck you” part.
She spun around in a circle that almost seemed . . . flirtatious. I wasn’t a big fan of cursing, so I just continued to dance, mouthing over the words that she so vehemently aimed at the younger Lahey brother.
He didn’t seem bothered, more amused than anything, and I wondered if there was more than just hostility between the two. It was as though their sexual tension was being masked by anger and insults. Noah stood up and walked toward her. She carried on dancing beside me, shouting the lyrics as he got closer and closer. When he came to a standstill in front of her, she laid a solid slap across his cheek that no one seemed the least bit surprised or concerned about, least of all him. He smirked at her before he wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and kissed her with obvious aggression.
What the hell was I watching? There’s no way this is healthy. Eric and Leroy were engrossed in a conversation, and when my attention turned back to Cass, she was very much into the kiss, the two of them having at each other as they backed toward the house. Should I follow Cass and tell her that she might regret that in the morning? She might not. Who was I to judge the situation? Not that I’d have been able to find them considering there were now two back doors, and both were blurred and moving, and the ground beneath me was no longer stable.
Leroy
Ellie was standing beside the fire pit, watching Cass and Noah retreat into the house. She looked adorable—all dumbfounded and confused. She wasn’t alone in her confusion—who knew why the hell Cass kept going back for more? We both knew Noah wouldn’t be interested in the morning.
“I better go and get that one,” I said to Eric, gesturing at Els, who was suddenly looking wobbly on her own two feet. A couple of quiet drinks had turned into a half dozen and it was clear that it had gone straight to her head. Still, she was having a good time, couldn’t argue with that.
“Where did Cass go?” Eric threw his empty cup at a trash can and missed.
“Noah,” I explained.
“Got it.”
He gave me a quick nod as I stood up and walked toward Ellie. She spun around and collided with my chest. Startled, she stumbled backward but I wrapped a hand around her waist and kept her from falling over. The music was still blaring, loud and hard to hear over, so I leaned in close and watched her unfocused gaze trying to watch my face.
“Should we get out of here?”
She looked over her shoulder. “But . . . Cass and—”
“That’s just them,” I explained. “They hate each other so much that they regularly fuck. No one gets it. No one tries. We just leave them to it. Should we dip?”
“If you want.”
“We can stay if you’d prefer?”
“Na-uh,” she slurred and fell into my chest. Shit, she was worse than I realized. “Lesgo.”
“You want me to carry you?”
“No,” she said, but there wasn’t a lot of effort on her part to get moving. Eric watched us from the sofa, a couple of the cheerleaders flanking him now, and he gave me a questioning thumbs-up.
“I’ve got it,” I called back and put an arm around Ellie.
Finally, we were headed toward the back gate. The concrete was scattered with solo cups and bottles and even a few teammates who had decided to pass out where they stood. It was times like these where I was tempted to hold a random Sunday football practice just to watch them all suffer for the hell of it. But as entertaining as that would be, I knew it wouldn’t be fair considering all of them put one hundred percent into their game. The weekends were for blowing off steam and they deserved that.
Getting Ellie into the car was like a game of Tetris. First, she slid right off the seat and into the gutter, and then her leg ended up over the center console, and then her laughter was so hysterical that she couldn’t keep her body from going limp and she was no help at all. I exhaled and shut the door when she was finally seated and buckled. There was no way that I could take her home in this condition. Not if Mom and Dad were awake. It was midnight, but there was a good chance that they would be waiting up. We had an hour to get her as sober as possible and the only idea I had for that was food.
“Ellie,” I gave her a gentle shove when we arrived at Rocky Ryan’s diner. The owner kept it open late on weekends because of how much business the students brought through during the late nights. Ellie had her forehead on the car window, eyes closed, shoulders slouched. I gave her another shake and she snorted awake, blinking. “You want something to eat?”
Her eyes were narrow, glaring at the storefront that was illuminated with neon signage and flashing string lights.
She smacked her lips and stretched, “A burger sounds dope. Damn, did we fly here?”
I laughed and opened the car door. “Yeah. We did.”
She met me on the other side and straightened her dress, combed her fingers through her hair, and bumped into my wing mirror while she watched her feet moving forward. “Shit, my bad.”
She was amusing the hell out of me—her demeanor was so different from its usual timidness. We held hands and I opened the door so that she could head in first. The diner wasn’t packed but there were a few different groups of people spread out, in the booths, ordering. Anna, Murray, and Kevin, who had been at the party tonight, were at a table near the counter.
“What’s doin’ bro?” Kevin hollered and leaned over the table so that we could slap hands while I stood in line with Ellie tucked into my side. Her arms were wound tight around my waist, head on my chest. Kevin gestured at her. “She straight?”
“She’s just a little drunk,” I said, not loving the way that Murray was staring at her bare legs. Anna leaned back in her seat, her long pink hair falling behind her. She gave my girl a slow once-over and I didn’t like it one bit. Anna was notorious for her bitchy attitude to everyone—not just people she didn’t like, but people she did. Just a classic mean girl. She and Noah had dated for about six months in his sophomore year, but one day I noticed that I hadn’t seen her in a while and my brother said they’d broken up. He wouldn’t tell me what had gone wrong, just that it was over. It surprised me at the time; from what I could tell, he really cared about her. But then again, she was not a nice person to be around.