and throw them in the laundry.
I’ve managed to get through the afternoon without thinking of Quincy. Until I get to my bedroom. When I push the door open, my eyes are drawn to the empty bed, expecting to find the tangled sheets from last night. I can’t help but smile. Little Miss Perfect made my bed. I would have expected nothing less. I turn and walk out, closing the door behind me. I can’t bring myself to change the sheets I’m convinced must still smell like her.
Once I think I’ve cleaned enough to meet my mother’s approval, I grab my bag and walk out onto the porch. S tanding on the steps, I take one last look around. The only evidence of last night’s party are the faint smell of smoke and the dark circle burned into the field. It almost hurts to get in my Jeep and leave it all behind.
With the top down , I turn the music up as loud as I can and peel out. Most of the brothers drive SUVs or pick-up trucks. But not me. I love driving with the wind in my face and the sun at my back. Like hiking, it just makes me feel free.
I’ve always found driving to be a form of therapy. Sometimes, I jump in the Jeep and try to get lost on purpose. By the time I find my way home, I’ve either forgotten what was on my mind in the first place or I’ve worked it out of my system. Either way, I feel better. Though some days, like today, it wouldn’t matter if I drove to Canada. For all intents and purposes, Quincy Priest may as well be riding in the passenger seat beside me.
When I pull up at the house, the driveway is full. I almost forgot our weekly meeting. They're always on Sunday nights, and I hate it. That’s my last chance to study for Monday tests, and let’s face it, it’s usually my night to recover from partying all weekend.
The meetings are in the basement, and even though it’s just us guys, we have to wear dr ess casual. I run upstairs and change into a button-up shirt and slacks before hurrying downstairs. Sliding into a seat just before the meeting begins, I let out a deep breath, relieved that I made it on time. We have to pay a fine if we’re late. Yes. A fine. Money.
Afterwards, the room slowly begins to empty as brothers wander upstairs or back to their dorm. I find myself sitting between Eric and Declan while Seth stands against the wall. With his arms crossed over his chest, it’s obvious that something is eating at him , but I’m the only one who notices.
I’m watching Seth , willing him to look at me when Declan stands and stretches his arms. “Man, I’m tired. I didn’t get a text from Quincy until 3:00AM. She forgot to text me when she got home.”
Seth’s eyes widen and snap to glare at me. I brace myself. This is it, the moment I knew would eventually come. Eric begins shaking his head, “I don’t think she…”
Seth loudly interrupts , “Hey, Dec, have you won that bet or what?” All eyes turn to him, the conversation forgotten. I would thank him, but I know he doesn’t care what I think. He didn’t do this for me.
Declan breaks out in a grin and claps Eric on the back. “Not yet. I don’t expect details, but he’d better not let me catch him lying.” Seth and Declan continue to give Eric a hard time while I try to compose myself.
When Declan follows Eric up the stairs, I stay behind with Seth. I breathe in a deep sigh of what I thought was relief, but the wave of guilt washing over me leads me to second guess it. Both emotions wage war in my soul, I can’t decide which one should win.
When I make a move toward the stairs, Seth steps in front of me, blocking my path. “Look, Bro, I know it’s none of my business…”
Before he can say another word, I shoulder past him and say, “You’re right. It’s not.” It’s a shit thing to do, but I just can’t deal with this yet. “Leave it alone, Seth.” I walk away, feeling like I’ve built a house of cards, and one mistake, one breath, could cause it to come crashing down.
As I pass by Declan's door, I
I’ve managed to get through the afternoon without thinking of Quincy. Until I get to my bedroom. When I push the door open, my eyes are drawn to the empty bed, expecting to find the tangled sheets from last night. I can’t help but smile. Little Miss Perfect made my bed. I would have expected nothing less. I turn and walk out, closing the door behind me. I can’t bring myself to change the sheets I’m convinced must still smell like her.
Once I think I’ve cleaned enough to meet my mother’s approval, I grab my bag and walk out onto the porch. S tanding on the steps, I take one last look around. The only evidence of last night’s party are the faint smell of smoke and the dark circle burned into the field. It almost hurts to get in my Jeep and leave it all behind.
With the top down , I turn the music up as loud as I can and peel out. Most of the brothers drive SUVs or pick-up trucks. But not me. I love driving with the wind in my face and the sun at my back. Like hiking, it just makes me feel free.
I’ve always found driving to be a form of therapy. Sometimes, I jump in the Jeep and try to get lost on purpose. By the time I find my way home, I’ve either forgotten what was on my mind in the first place or I’ve worked it out of my system. Either way, I feel better. Though some days, like today, it wouldn’t matter if I drove to Canada. For all intents and purposes, Quincy Priest may as well be riding in the passenger seat beside me.
When I pull up at the house, the driveway is full. I almost forgot our weekly meeting. They're always on Sunday nights, and I hate it. That’s my last chance to study for Monday tests, and let’s face it, it’s usually my night to recover from partying all weekend.
The meetings are in the basement, and even though it’s just us guys, we have to wear dr ess casual. I run upstairs and change into a button-up shirt and slacks before hurrying downstairs. Sliding into a seat just before the meeting begins, I let out a deep breath, relieved that I made it on time. We have to pay a fine if we’re late. Yes. A fine. Money.
Afterwards, the room slowly begins to empty as brothers wander upstairs or back to their dorm. I find myself sitting between Eric and Declan while Seth stands against the wall. With his arms crossed over his chest, it’s obvious that something is eating at him , but I’m the only one who notices.
I’m watching Seth , willing him to look at me when Declan stands and stretches his arms. “Man, I’m tired. I didn’t get a text from Quincy until 3:00AM. She forgot to text me when she got home.”
Seth’s eyes widen and snap to glare at me. I brace myself. This is it, the moment I knew would eventually come. Eric begins shaking his head, “I don’t think she…”
Seth loudly interrupts , “Hey, Dec, have you won that bet or what?” All eyes turn to him, the conversation forgotten. I would thank him, but I know he doesn’t care what I think. He didn’t do this for me.
Declan breaks out in a grin and claps Eric on the back. “Not yet. I don’t expect details, but he’d better not let me catch him lying.” Seth and Declan continue to give Eric a hard time while I try to compose myself.
When Declan follows Eric up the stairs, I stay behind with Seth. I breathe in a deep sigh of what I thought was relief, but the wave of guilt washing over me leads me to second guess it. Both emotions wage war in my soul, I can’t decide which one should win.
When I make a move toward the stairs, Seth steps in front of me, blocking my path. “Look, Bro, I know it’s none of my business…”
Before he can say another word, I shoulder past him and say, “You’re right. It’s not.” It’s a shit thing to do, but I just can’t deal with this yet. “Leave it alone, Seth.” I walk away, feeling like I’ve built a house of cards, and one mistake, one breath, could cause it to come crashing down.
As I pass by Declan's door, I
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