I was on autopilot the minute the first half-naked girl hopped out of the bed of Sam Hill's black Tundra and started dancing around giddily on the curb. Though they were the first to arrive, I knew it wouldn't be long before half our school was loitering in front of my house with no consideration for anyone or anything else. The aftermath of every party Sam's thrown has always left my own front yard a dumpster, and knowing better than to let my father set eyes on the mess it was whenever he rolled out of his own bed of vomit, I spent the hour before sunrise cleaning.
Tonight, would be different. Not only was this Sam Hill's last end-of-summer party before he took off to college across the country next May, but my aunt would be here any second with my younger brother, and I'd have to join the world of the living-and face the same peers that I spent every waking moment trying to avoid.
Just as I was pushing myself from my perch on my window sill, my eyes found Sam and my heart sped up just the slightest and the sight of him.
He'd discarded his shirt sometime in the hour and a half since the party had started, and in nothing but lowriding black swim trucks in his driveway, leaning into his truck with one arm resting on the toolbox and the other securing a red solo cup that was so full that with every small movement the alcohol splashed over the rim and onto the concrete under his black sandals. A quick wisp of dark blonde was my cue to fully turn my back to the scene and head for my bedroom door.
Maybe in some parallel universe there was a Destiny Mathers who was brave enough to cross the yard and slip under Sam's arm, rest my head against his chest, and try and converse with my peers. Maybe there was alternate version of me that confessed my feelings for him and they rode off into the sunset under a double rainbow on a Pegasus.
But in this sad reality, he'd never know me as anything more than his reclusive next-door neighbor who'd broke down in his arms for hours in January.
I felt the slight vibration of my phone notifying me of my aunt's arrival in my back pocket, but I didn't bother to pull it out, and continued my trek to my front door. Though my father wouldn't be home for at least another five hours, I still walked the hall with a flightiness in every step and threw a quick look over my shoulder every few seconds. I'd made sure Dad wouldn't be home when Aunt Kara had called with the exciting news that they'd be releasing my younger brother, Dylan, into her custody and she'd be dropping him off.
It'd been six months since I'd last seen my little brother.
It'd been six months since I'd found him dead on his bedroom floor.
Bracing myself for the inevitable attention I'd receive as soon as I was outside of the house, I turned the knob and slipped onto my front porch. I immediately wished to sink into the ground when heads started to whip in my direction, most eyes full of curiosity or familiarity, but to my relief, nobody said anything. I pulled at the sleeves of my burgundy sweater, so it was covering both hands, not immune to the heat beating down my back and sticking it to every inch of my body. The entire trip down my driveway, more attention was drawn to me and I silently prayed someone would make a scene and distract everyone.
I knew how it looked; sweater and sweatpants in some of the hottest weather we'd had in over a decade. I just didn't care enough about everyone's perception of me to do anything about it. The only person's opinion I valued would never see me as anything more than a pitiful little girl, and I'd come to accept that.
Only, just as I slowed to a stop on the curb at the end of the driveway, I heard approaching footsteps and lifted my head to find Sam closing in on me.
