LOW FUEL LIGHT
Demi and Tao pick me up right from my spot on the side of the road. I kiss Josh goodbye and slide into the backseat without another thought.
"Where are we going?" I ask, still clinging to the last bit of my buzz.
"Glad you asked," Tao says, handing back a tumbler with what I can only hope is alcohol inside. "Demi knows a place."
"A party. House party, well a warehouse party. Someone owns it and always has huge parties on the weekends. I think there will be a DJ. That cool?" Demi asks, glancing at me in the rear view.
"Sounds perfect, to be honest," I admit.
I sit back in my seat and relax, enjoying every single thing about Demi's 1999 Jeep Cherokee -everything right down to the blaring music. I frown at my empty phone screen, wishing more than anything someone would text me right now.
Do you ever feel like no one cares? Not like no one likes you and you're going to die alone, but just no one cares. You're not on anyone's mind. Sometimes I go days without any of my friends (or even parents) checking in one me. There's Josh, but that's not the same type of check-in. It's very out-of-sight-out-of-mind.
It's 2AM East Coast I remind myself. Not in LA.
I'm a few sips into Tao's mystery drink when it finally starts to hit me. I lean into the bubbliness, eager to be a happy-drunk Emmy tonight. Demi whips her car into a crowded parking lot in the warehouse district. The street light buzzes like an electric razor and the pavement vibrates beneath my feet.
"Already feel the DJ," Tao says.
"Yea, we have feet," Demi says while applying a new layer of lip gloss.
"Oo, gimme some," I ask, puckering up my lips for her.
Bright neon lights bounce off the large windows, illuminating them from the inside. Dark shadows of people strobe in and out of view. The noise is insane!
"It's giving rave vibes," Tao determines when we make it to the door.
"Oh, 100-percent," Demi agrees.
Groups of people walk past us in both directions, some exiting the warehouse and others just going in with us.
"I'm an old lady lady!" I giggle at Demi and Tao. Luckily, I'm almost too drunk to care about the fact that I'm a lone millennial fish drowning in a Gen Z sea.
"Stop it, you are not," Demi shushes me.
"Plus, you're still hotter than mostly everyone here. Even if you have 10 years on us." Tao winks.
Dead.
We are inside all of an hour when I officially level-up. I'm a few shots deep and a few brain cells short. A nice looking alien decorated me with some glow- necklaces and neon face-paint. After some hazy dancing, I scoot into the bathroom line with Demi, pulling out my phone and ready to make a royal fuck up.
Surprisingly, it's not Brooks whose name I find myself looking for. It's Josh's.
"Girl, what are you doing?" Demi looks at me, mad sus.
"Not whats you think. Trust mes," I slur. I'm about to press the green dial icon.
"Emmy-"
"I got this." I wave her away. "Be right back. Promise."
I back up until Demi and her pink war paint-clad cheeks fade from sight. The phone is pressed so hard to my ear, yet I still can't say if it's ringing or not. My eardrums may be permanently ruptured.
"-Llo? Emmy?" I hear bits and pieces of Josh's words.
"Josh? Hey!" I shout back. "Hold on, almost at the door."
"What's wrong? -Mmy? -Hear me? Babe can you hear me?"
His voice finally comes into full audible focus when I reach the side of the warehouse. A cool breeze greets me as I step under the open garage doors.
"Why did you comment about the wedding? What was your -what was the point? What did you mean not my friends-" I babble into the phone.
The luminescent teal powder on my wrist glows under the laser beams. I let my eyes focus on it as I wait for Josh's response.
"Emmy? I didn't mean anything. Are you that drunk?" I can hear his concern.
"Nos, not that drunk. You're drunk," I whine. "You don't like my friends or-"
"Emmy, stop," Josh says warningly.
I sway into the cement wall, half with the music, half because I can't stand up straight.
"Where's Demi? Are you alone?"
"You stop!" I laugh, a few seconds behind in our convo and trying to catch up.
"Okay, I'm coming to pick you up. Do you know where you are?" Josh asks.
"I don't want you -I mean want you to. To pick me up," I shake my head, although I know he cannot see me through the phone.
"Where are you, Emmy?" He asks again, more insistent.
"Outside," I tell him. "Breezy nights."
"Go back inside. Tell me where you are," Josh says.
I bring my phone down to look at the time. 12:40 PM.
"It's one AM!" I blurt.
"I know. But where are you?" Josh asks.
"Um, it's that spot. The place over by the water that's always got parties. By the big parking lot with those orange pole things." I'm laughing again. And I get it. My life's a joke right now.
"I'm coming. Please go back inside and don't move."
The line clicks dead. I pout to myself as I trace my footsteps all along the wall, miffed. I'm annoyed at Josh -irked by his comments earlier and unhappy about their insinuation.
So, I can't be friends with people from my past? Brothers or not? I'm sure Josh sees exes from time to time or knows of other people he met through them. I don't give him grief. It seems silly. And I am spiraling.
I'm thinking about waltzing into Brody and Lauren's wedding with Josh again -only this time it's an absolute shit-show. This time he sucks. And he ruins it with his whining and making me feel bad. And I don't like the scenario playing out in my headspace one single bit. I'd rather go stag.
J comin' 4 me
luv ya
I shoot Demi and Tao some quick texts. It's not worth it to try and track them down inside right now. Another 10 minutes pass and my ass and shoulder blades are sore from leaning against the cinderblocks. My phone buzzes with a text from Josh.
Here.
Oh, hail the one-word response. He even used punctuation.
I sigh, yawn, and rub my eyes all at once. Traces of the luminescent paint cling to my arms and bracelets, and fingernails.
I clamber into Josh's car, ignoring his judgy eyes as I do so. Without another word he pulls back onto the main road and floors it. I can almost hear the tires screech beneath us.
YOU ARE READING
Never Really Over (Bremmy 3)
ChickLit*THREEQUEL* Even when they're done, all things are never really over. It's been one year since Emmy left for the airport, two tickets in hand. A long, eventful year. Brooks has successfully launched the flagship Edge and snagged a model girlfriend...
