Harper flopped on her stomach and bounced my bed. "What are we watching?"
"Like you won't pick the same movie." I rubbed my better-smelling hair with my towel and handed her my laptop. Not surprisingly, Booksmart sat at the top of my Netflix queue.
She gave my screen a firm nod. "Read my mind."
I snuggled under the comfort of my blankets next to her and puffed out an exhale. She radiated warmth, so I snuggled into her side and rested my ear on her shoulder. "You're so predictable."
"I know what I like. Feel better?"
With a flick of my wrists, I tossed my towel at my laundry basket and fell short. "Cleaner, but I need a brain wipe."
Thanks to Logan, my brain was inoperable. Our exchange replayed on a loop like a bad movie that I couldn't leave because I was too invested in the plotline. What the fuck was he thinking? On what planet would any girl have been impressed -his apparent favorite word- with the shit he spewed out of his mouth?
Finally found something at the beach more irritating than the sand, which I couldn't wash off in my shower. Line after line after line. I was surprised my ears weren't bleeding by the time I got in Harper's car. Whoever this Logan idiot was, he wasn't worth the effort to insult him, despite the limitless inspiration he laid out at my feet.
Like I would kiss him. A frog wouldn't kiss him. The way the moonlight cast highlights on his nose and cheekbones and the slight part in his lips painted a tempting picture, but he probably had every kiss-transferable disease. I shuddered.
A date was worse. I couldn't spend another minute listening to that arrogant windbag. He would probably take us to a carnival house of mirrors to admire himself from every direction. "Why are the hot ones ruined by their hotness?"
The exaggerated gasp from the girl who named him Adonis was a bit much. "You... think he's hot?"
"Please, a blind person could sense he was attractive."
"I still think you two had a moment back there. You looked like you wanted to either kiss him or beat his ass into the sand." She turned back to the movie. "To answer your question, they know that they're hot. So, they can and will get away with being an asshole."
By far the worst one I'd ever met. Thank fuck Jake wasn't there to hear any of that shit.
Unless... Logan acted that way on purpose. Why though? He started with genuine sincerity. What a derailment.
It didn't matter. He didn't matter and 'arrogant jerk who thinks lewd statements are charming' wasn't in my plan. I left Logan for the sand crabs and blocked his number. That weird-ass exchange was, done and over, except for the annoying way he burrowed into my brain space and parked his giant butt on my hippocampus. Our interaction shouldn't matter, but it did. A lot. "Ahh." I cupped the pressure mounting in my forehead.
Harper's lips stopped twitching to the movie lines and she turned to me. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah?" I responded with a crack in my voice. Totally unconvincing. "No. That guy obliterated half my brain cells, I swear. I can't - I can't think straight."
Her voice softened and her warm, smooth hand rubbed my forearm. "I'm sorry, Elle. About today."
"For?"
"All of it," she admitted with a sigh.
"I'm glad it's over," I replied. Ugh, I still needed to get Jake. "Almost over."
She cursed and shook her head. As her lips twitched more movie lines, I reclined against my headboard. Me and football players. How did I attract them? I projected my most powerful 'go away' vibes, why didn't they work on Logan? What the hell was he thinking?
Jake bordered tolerable some days, but I wanted nothing to do with the rest of them. For excellent reasons. A shudder ran between my shoulders and trickled down my spine from the haunting images. Goosebumps prickled the hairs on my forearms and I closed my eyes.
When we left, Harper said she was proud of me and respected my silence. Unfortunately, my best friend came with an interest in details. She nudged me until I opened my eyes to curiosity swimming in hers. "On the asshole scale of ignorable indifference to bury the evidence, where's Adonis?"
"Off the charts." A dry taste coated my tongue. "A football asshole."
"Oh, your favorite kind." Her sarcasm contrasted with the sparkle in her eyes. "Can we narrow it down a little? Jake went from grade-B asshole to -"
"I'd rather we didn't." I shook my head and rubbed my aching forehead. "I want to forget about him, and any other boy if I can help it."
"I haven't seen Jake that riled up since Bright Eyes Foster stuck a flower on your locker last Valentine's Day. Poor kid is probably still picking his underwear out of his crack."
"Jake needs to dial it down." My eyes rolled at her reference to a boy who had the same sky blues as her, and Jake's reaction when the poor kid had the wrong locker. Total misunderstanding. "But the last thing I need is Jake finding out, so please let's just forget that happened. But thanks for the reminder. Come on."
I shifted out of my covers and walked into Jake's room. A thick, damp, hazmat-level smell rose from the dirty laundry tossed in the general direction of his hamper. Disgusting.
"Why are we - oh fuck, it reeks in here!" Harper pulled her shirt collar up over her nose and coughed. "How do you share a bathroom?"
"Water shoes in the shower and daily toilet wipes." My nose wrinkled at his crumpled blankets and I grabbed the two-foot-long, cylindrical cardboard tube on them. "We need a diversion, my dear Harper."
Her voice was muffled by her shirt mask, and a wrinkle in her nose peeked over the collar. "Another one?"
"Yep." My nails pried open the white stopper at the end and revealed a poster. The woman's bikini made Harper's dental floss number look modest. "Less dramatic, more tradition."
"Right. I'll be back." By the sound of a slammed cabinet, she went into the bathroom and returned with a small box paired with a smirk. "Why do we do this?"
I grabbed a Band-Aid and taped it over one of the blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman's protruded nipples. "Ha, this one looks like you."
"Seriously?" Harper grabbed it from my hands, dipping her chin so the model's body draped over hers. "What part of this reads me? Nipples the size of glue sticks?"
Before I answered 'giant breasts and pouty lips,' her fingers rubbed over a nipple, she closed her eyes, and squealed, "Oh, God, Jake! Right there! Fuck me harder!"
"And now it's weird." I taped over the second nipple, which was now aligned with Harper's.
"I can't believe he still hangs them up," I mumbled at the sea of breasts and ass that adorned the light gray walls between Jake's ridiculous number of football trophies and USC paraphernalia.
"I can. Spank bank material." Harper snorted. "Can we please go back to the pleasant-smelling side of the house before I catch chlamydia?"
With no response to her accusation about my brother's STD status, I followed her to the cheery, light yellow, clean solace of my bedroom. Curiosity swam in her eyes.
"Soooo...." She extended the 'o' sound in the dead air space between us. "I want the football asshole details. And don't look at me like that. You've only shared snippets, you tease."
"I'm not a tease." I crossed my arms and huffed, unaware I was wearing a look. "He was more self-absorbed than a sponge."
"That bad, hmm?" she asked, settling down under my blanket pile. "You said he was hot, so the better question is: Do you like him?"
Did I? Apparently, extreme asshole attention made me delusional. And gooey over a pair of ocean blue eyes. They were pretty, but he was awful. The shiniest apple could be rotten to the core.
Being torn between being flattered and disgusted was quite a mindfuck. I wasn't prepared to unpack why I hadn't felt any uneasiness with him. His arrogance was a focal point, but he carried himself with a laidback, pressure-but-no-pressure vibe. Until I almost crawled on his lap, his only touch was countless shoulder bumps.
"What's there to like?" I rolled my lower lip under my teeth. "He probably already bragged to his friends about sleeping with me."
"So, unblock him and find out."
I held back Logan's confession that he wanted to see me. His 'date' motives were as clear as mud, but I wasn't ready for her opinion on that subject. "I don't care."
"Compared to the alternative?" Harper's eyebrows raised. "Can't be worse than no-game Meade."
Prompted by my unimpressed look, her voice lowered to a bored, monotonous tone, "Go out with me, Elle."
"No." I giggled.
Her finger tapped her chin, and she let out a yawn. "At least it wasn't Mister Teeny-Weinie Hip-thruster. If it was, then I'd have an empty can of mace right now."
Small victory. "No, thankfully." I sighed and slumped into bed. My body sagged with fatigue, my limbs were heavy, and my muscles ached. The temptation to close my eyes made my eyelids heavy, but my phone buzzed with a text. "I need to pick up Jake."
She offered a sheepish smile. "And I need to make my curfew."
A frown creased her forehead until darkness hung over the humming street lights. "You sure you're okay," she said. A breeze lifted a few blonde strands across her cheek, which she ignored and palmed her hips. "Let me call Dad and see if I can break curfew."
"Technically, you're grounded... for breaking curfew," I reminded her.
"I don't like you going to a party alone." A wistful tone slipped in between her words. "When you told me-"
"I'll be fine." I cut her off with a raised hand. Bringing up the nightmare was the opposite of what I wanted – sleep. "I'll grab Jake and leave."
She cast two pools of doubt in my direction. "Text me when you're home, Elle."
"I will."
I chewed on my lower lip as the drive through Santa Cruz blurred into oblivion. A green light illuminated the top of the dashboard and my knuckles as I turned on Harrison Street. Radio music hummed while overhead street lamps flashed rhythmic beams across my windshield. By the second block, my eyes drooped, my shoulders slumped, and my back rounded over the steering wheel.
Where was it?
A few teenagers appeared on the sidewalk, so I slowed down. A head-on collision wasn't the most effective way to find Jake. The sidewalk traffic thickened in front of a split-level house. The air vibrated with party music bass and lawn dart bodies laid across the front yard. A guy peed on the mailbox, and no part of me wanted to know why the bushes to the left of the front door shook.
Inside, bass beats vibrated my bones. I paused in a front foyer packed shoulder-to-shoulder with unfamiliar, loud, and sweaty people. My tiptoes were no help as I looked for my brother. At 6-4 with a frame built like a tank, Jake should be easy to spot.
Tiptoeing from room to room, I wrinkled my nose and squeezed through. Some people danced but most engaged in groping sessions. Booze mixed with marijuana polluted the air. Random clusters of people yelled over the music, smoked, or drank to their heart's content. A few people slept in random spots, on wall corners, or impersonated floor speed bumps.
Déjà-vu struck me at the base of the stairs. The mental jolt stopped me in my tracks. My mind clicked back to the doorway of another party house. My eyes were wide and curious until they locked on his. He was standing near the kitchen.
The living room space around me included tan carpets, dark red curtains, and brown sofas. Instead of the warm honey-toned brown eyes that lured me in as bait laid upon a trap, tonight, I saw... Nothing.
Including no Jake. Ten minutes later and a trip outside, still no Jake. Fuck. I groaned up at the night sky, then weeded back inside.
We kissed while sitting on the stairs.
I pushed down the memory and lifted a shaky hand to the banister, squeezing it to ground my reeling brain. In one embarrassing bedroom check after another, I interrupted couples in various mid-sex stages. I shut each door with heated cheeks and mumbled apologies. Hopefully, none of them remember that I barged in.
Discomfort slithered over me the more rooms I checked. The hairs on the back of my neck and forearms raised goosebumps. A throb ran up the sides of my neck and into my ears. A tightness in my chest constricted my breath, and my palms turned cold and damp. Where was Jake?
One bedroom I wish I hadn't checked included an intertwined pair of coherent and consensual participants. A tall, leggy blonde knelt on the bed. Large hands caressed her bare back while she straddled a tall, blonde-haired boy with broad shoulders. His name croaked out of the back of my throat. "Kieran!?"
I clamped a palm over my mouth. Why did I say anything? Why hadn't I closed the door like a silent, creepy stalker? Gawd, he was as rotten as the others.
When his hands moved to her breasts, the blonde's head turned, and she smirked over her shoulder. My heart sank at her flashing blue-gray eyes.
"Camille." My fingers around the door knob were all that tethered me from going postal on her. Could this day get any fucking worse!? Was Ryder here too?
"Shit, Elle!" Kieran cursed with wide eyes. "It's not what it looks like."
Yeah, whenever anyone said that? It was exactly what it looked like. "Save it for someone who gives a fuck." I slammed the door and squeezed my eyes. There wasn't enough eye bleach in Santa Cruz to unsee that.
Jake sat in a place of last resort, alone in the master bathroom. Eyes closed, he wore the most forlorn expression. If it weren't for his pale cheeks and downturned mouth, then I would've giggled at his long arms and legs spilling out of the bathtub at odd and uncomfortable angles.
"Hey." I crouched down and curled my fingers on the cool porcelain. "Time to go home."
His eyes opened, then shifted to me with a heavy sadness. "Ellie?"
That look was enough, and my heart pinched around itself. He knew what was happening in that other bedroom. When my brother hurt, I hurt. I patted his shoulder, then grabbed his arm. "Yup. Let's go, big brother."
Tucking under Jake's armpit, I mouth-breathed around his unpleasant, musky body odor. Had he bathed in beer? We slugged down the stairs one awkward, three-legged race step at a time.
"Ellieeeeeeee," he slurred in my ear. I would have laughed at how ridiculous we looked, me dragging him through the house. His weight almost crushed me.
"I'm right here, Jake. Let's go." The cool air was the most refreshing thing I'd breathed since arriving. Sweat circled my armpits by the time I clicked his seat belt.
When I stood up, he grabbed my hand. His eyes, almost black, were as remorseful as his gravelly voice. "Ellie."
He wouldn't remember this conversation, even if I recorded it. Not that I'd ever done that. Nope. Of course, I had. Drunk Jake was the most honest, filterless version of himself. "Yes?"
He ran his tongue over his dry, pale lips. "Thank you."
"Any time."
"She was here tonight," he mumbled and closed his eyes. "Camille."
"Hang on." I slammed the door in his face, then ran to the other side.
"Jake?" I shook my head and slammed my door. "We're not unpacking that shit show because I'll get road rage. Say the word, and I'm happy to go back in there and punch her ovaries."
His eyes stayed closed, but his mouth stretched into a sloppy grin. "I'd like to see you do that someday."
"She's batshit crazy," he whispered.
No argument here. "You're such a sucker for blonde hair, blue eyes, and big boobs. And hey, no passing out in the car. I'm not lifting your fat ass out of the car bridal-style at home."
His grin curled up into a smirk. "There's no fat on me."
I did the nicest possible sisterly thing: I reached over and twisted his left nipple with my index finger and thumb. Hard.
"Oww!" The purple nipple treatment worked. His dilated brown eyes flipped open. "Ellie."
"No sleeping," I scolded and pulled away from Harrison Street.
"Why are you in such a bad mood? You're not... PMSing, are you?" The cringe on his face was almost comical as he rubbed his palm over his nipple.
He deserved a matching pair for that remark. "No!" Now was not the time to tell him about Logan, but I could mention something that lingered in my mind. It was better to discuss while he was drunk. "I... umm, had a nightmare," I mumbled at the steering wheel.
Jake sat up as if struck by lightning. "The nightmare?"
I couldn't help but smile. He remembered, which warmed my chest.
"Yeah." I swallowed against the tension in my throat as the overhead suburban street lights flashed highlights and shadows on my knuckles. "The one with Ryder."
"Shit, Ellie." Jake ran his fingers through his dark waves. "How many?"
"One," I assured him with a slow, heavy sigh. "That's why Harper and I were at the beach. She was trying to help me forget about it."
"Fuck, I didn't know. Any idea why?" When I shook my head, he cursed again and brought a clenched fist to his mouth. A faraway look glazed his dark eyes, and he mumbled, "Fuck, I'm sorry. Thanks for telling me."
"No secrets." Except for one tiny, gigantic asshole secret. But that was done. Correction: I was done, with Logan or any boy. Tomorrow's reset button couldn't come fast enough.
"Maybe because it's a new school year?" he offered after a few blocks of silence. "New set of losers, but I have your back. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Ellie."
I offered a fleeting smile. "I know."
"Kieran was looking for you tonight." His hands curled around his seatbelt.
"Yeah? He found someone else." After what I wished I hadn't seen tonight, Kieran had zero rebound issues. "And he can have her, as far as I'm concerned."
Jake threw me a lopsided grin. My nose twitched from the party stench that wafted from his gigantor body. His head tipped back, but he didn't flinch when I cracked open his window. The question of how well he knew Logan played on my tongue, but other than a few flutters of Jake's lashes flickering shadows over his cheeks, his response was an inaudible groan.
Guess that conversation's over. It was for the best.
My tired eyes welcomed our house's brown brick exterior and worn red shutters. After two more nipple yanks, Jake slugged out of his intent to sleep in the car. By the silence, except for the living room clock ticking, we hadn't disturbed our parents.
I tossed Jake face-down on his bed, turned his head to the side, and pulled an empty trash can close. A smile creased my lips at his peaceful expression. I patted his soft waves and tucked a blanket over him.
One of his large hands wrapped around my wrist, and he slurred in a low and raspy voice, "You're the best."
"Keep that in mind when I cash in these favors." I withdrew my hand, which flopped his arm in a noodle over the edge of his bed. "Two parties for Ellie and zero face punches for Jake."
"One," he mumbled with his eyes closed. A faint glow from the streetlamp cast a slight orange tint over his skin. "Kieran wouldn't shut up about asking you out... Didn't think he'd go for her though."
I rolled my eyes at Jake's omitted details. Kieran kneading Camille's breasts like bread dough meant he didn't like me, but I wasn't worth a face punch under any circumstances. "You didn't hit him, did you?"
"I told him you'd rather go out with Harper," he mumbled into his pillow. I rolled my eyes and gave him one more head pat. My hand stopped when he said, "Then I hit him."
Stupid boys. Put a fork in Ellie; she's done.
I shut his door and groaned. The 1:14 am time on my alarm clock hit me like a punch in the stomach. Ache filled down to the tips of my fingers as I texted Harper. Tension knotted my shoulders, and my eyelids hung heavy as a slow, hot yawn rose in my throat.
The best part of today was it ended. Tomorrow, I could forget about today like it never happened.
Seems like Logan did leave an impression. Poor Ellie. Maybe she can get some sleep now.