Those Cold Eyes ✓

Chapter 4

My phone purred insistently, letting me know that someone was calling, and more importantly, not giving up after reaching voice mail for the third time. I was sitting in our comfy arm chair, and the phone lay on the kitchen counter. I figured I could call them back when I had the strength to move. Did someone say lazy?

"You gonna pick that up, or what?" Lily asked from where she sat in our overly large sofa.

"Go ahead, answer it. I know you've always wanted to do it, here's your chance."

That brought her up short. She looked at me, completely dumbfounded as if I'd spoken in a completely different language.

"You're kidding right?" she asked again, sounding as if she didn't dare to believe me.

"When have I ever lied to you?" I asked, trying to keep a serious face.

"Asshole," she snapped, and threw an orange peel at me which I caught and threw back, hitting her straight in the face.

"I'm serious, pick it up," I said again. She still looked at me incredulously, but dashed into the kitchen and answered it right away.

"Yes, hello," she said softly, not in her usual confident voice. "I'm his sister," she continued. "You're outside? Okay, I'll tell him."

She hung up and looked at me with raised eyebrows. "Why didn't you want to answer? That girl sounded really nice, they're outside by the way."

"Right," I said, and left her questions unanswered. I didn't think they would pick me up this early. Perhaps they had planned to do something before.

I took my phone from Lily's hand and fetched my jacket, pulled it on and was out of the door with a wave of my hand.

"Hey, where are you going? Have you told Mom?" Lily hollered.

"Tell her I'm with friends, I'll be home in time to take you to school," I yelled back, followed by the sound of crunching gravel as I walked toward the car.

"Hi Dylan, cute sister you've got there," Tyra said from the driver's seat. I looked over my shoulder and saw Lily standing in the doorway, glaring at me like she wanted to say something but didn't dare in front of my friends.

I chuckled softly. "She's a brat, but a rather cute one, I admit."

"Well, with a good looking guy like you for a brother I can't say I'm shocked," she answered, her eyes bright with laughter.

"Well, let's hope there are more of those good looking guys at that party," I replied, winking at her.

"This is why I've always wanted a gay friend. Mike or Russo would never say stuff like that. They are totally useless."

I laughed as I took the seat next to her.

I was wrong about the possibility of a plan. We went directly to the party, and despite being quite early on in the evening, the house was packed with drunken teenagers. I even saw one hanging over the white fence, clearly not feeling too good. Music blasted out through broken speakers and I felt at home right away. Tyra intertwined our hands again and pulled me toward the kitchen. Red plastic cups littered the sink and table, and the floor was sticky beneath my shoes. Someone would have a great time cleaning this up tomorrow.

"Who lives here?" I asked. The house was huge, and I wondered briefly if the person living here might be popular on account of throwing parties in their house. It was a sad thought, but I knew how these things worked. The social ladder was a predictable one and despicable at that.

"I honestly don't know," Tyra answered.

Just then a busty girl bumped into me, obviously on purpose. She looked up, trying to look both innocent and seductive at the same time. "Hi there, Dylan, right?" she said, batting her fake lashes. They looked ready to fall off. Poor girl.