Chasing Blue

Chapter One

             "Kolby," Sadie says, and I have to stop myself from frowning. I'm sure Kolby had other plans — he tends to be Mr Popular, what with being the starting linebacker for Calum's football team. Number twenty two, I've only missed six games since the start of his college career.

          "Oh," I say, "What's Drew up to? I figured Kolby would have something better to be doing."

             Sadie grins — there's two types of grins that Sadie Bradford produces, I've realized over the many years of our friendship. The first, her fake grin, the one used at her gymnastics' teams banquets, or when talking to her sorority sisters, and the second is borderline evil, reserved most often for her brothers. Sadie's the only girl her parents had, sandwiched between an older, overachieving brother, and the younger, private-school-attending twins. Her claim to fame is being an excellent gymnast, with an athletic scholarship to Calum, and the teams highest-scoring floorist and vaulter.

           "Drew's grounded," she says lightly, though her smile (the evil one) betrays her act, "And Kolby did have better things to do, but I promised him you'd go to a bar with him after, and then drive him back home, safe and sound, preferably drunk."

Kolby's football season is officially over — so now all he has to stay sober for is the post-season training and practices, which are easily much less of a pain than pre or during season training, and besides, it's a Friday night, and even I know that Coach Emmons hates getting up any earlier than ten am on Saturday's.

I nod my head, "So two beers and I get to go home, sounds good to me." I slant my head to the left, "Drew is grounded?"

Again, Sadie's evil smile returns as she nods her head, her entire small body moving jerkily with it, "Get ready for this one —," she pauses, making sure my full attention is on her, "Dad found him balls deep in some girl a few nights ago — shush it gets better — on the counter!"

I slap a hand to my mouth, my eyes wide enough to probably fall right out of my head. Like I said, Drew is the quietest of the Bradford Brood, as I enjoy calling them, then again, everyone always says it's the quietest. "No shit."

Sadie giggles, "No shit. Mom made him clean the entire kitchen, floor to ceiling, twice. Kolb's and Jessie are having a field day." She shakes her head, almost solemn, "Poor kid can't go downstairs to get a drink without one of them asking if he did it against the fridge, or the wall, or on the sink, or anywhere else their filthy minds can conjure up."

I give her a pointed look. Sadie is no Virgin Mary by any means. Once, I came home to find her and her conquest had been too impatient to make the ten foot trek to her bedroom, and had gone at it like bunnies on our sofa. Our sofa, that I now refuse to sit on unless there's a blanket laid overtop it.

"Can it," she tells me, "I heard you and Greer, all the time."

Greer, my ex, and I, hadn't had sex in over a month and a half before he broke it off. I guess I should have seen it coming, he was practically sex on a stick in the early days of our relationship, and I know him well enough to know that he didn't turn into a prude overnight.

I shrug, "At least I was in my room."

Sadie opens her mouth to retort, but she's cut off my the shrill ringing of my phone from my desk. I lean back to grab it, on the screen is an awful candid of Kolby eating a hamburger, and his name is bold white letters flashing across the screen. I tap the green accept button, and then put him on speaker, a habit of mine I formed with Sadie from our long calls studying during high school.

Kolby doesn't bother with a hi, he never has, "What do I wear to this thing, anyway? S literally told me to avoid looking homeless. Like, jeans? Or slacks? Tee shirt or button down? God, I hate shit like this, you best be bank rolling my alcohol consumption tonight, Blue."

Much like his sister, Kolby could talk to a wall. "I will not be bank rolling any form of alcohol for you ever," I say, rolling my eyes, "I'm wearing a dress, so wear like khakis and either a polo or button down. With nice shoes, too."

"Really?" He says, he sounds further away, like he put his phone down and wandered into his closet, "'Cus I had been planning on wearing my Old Navy flip flops. They have palm trees on them, Blue, palm trees."

Sadie is a fit giggles on my bed, her face red enough to match the auburn streaks in her hair, "Don't call me that, Kolby."

"It's literally your name," he retorts, and I can almost see his little half smile.

"Really? Have you seen a birth certificate I haven't?"

"Nah, I just know my colors."

I glare at my phone, and even through the black screen I swear to all the holy things in the universe I can see Kolby perfectly — the dirty blonde mop he calls hair, his nose, slightly to the left, where he broke it when he was fifteen, his pale blue eyes, the soft smattering of freckles on his nose and cheeks, and the stubble on his chin — he's probably grinning ear to ear, knowing how I look right now. Red in the face, eyes narrowed, brows drawn together. We've only known each other for the past twelve years, no biggie.

"Your such a dick," I say, sighing as I gesture for Sadie to get lost so I can finish getting ready. She climbs off my bed with all of her well-honed grace, and shoves my clumsiness in my face by literally cartwheeling out the room. I flip off the doorway where she had just been as I turn to face my vanity, grabbing my tube of concealer.

"So you've said before," is his garbled reply. He says nothing for a nearly a full minute, the only sound on his side of the like rustling and the occasional mumbling to himself. "I'll pick you up in twenty," he says, and then disconnects. Much like his aversion to greetings, he doesn't give two shits about goodbyes either.