better. My parents have scared me with their endless stories of people wrapping their cars around trees or killing poor innocent families while driving drunk. It’s not a risk I’m willing to take. Besides, drinking has never appealed to me. In all the times I’ve watched Ashley get hammered, nothing about it has appeared fun. The first time I saw her fall all over herself and puke in the bushes, I decided the party life wasn’t for me.
Pulling my gaze away from Christian, I hurry over to Josh. Perhaps if I focus on my boyfriend I can erase all thoughts of the boy that shouldn’t be on my mind. As Josh drapes his arm over my shoulders, drawing me into his side, I remind myself that I made the right choice when I stayed with him. Clearly our kiss meant nothing to Christian. He kisses new girls every week. It’s like his lips can’t help themselves. They have to attach to any girl within a two-mile radius or something. I can’t believe I fell for his act. I would’ve thrown away everything for him, and that would have been the worst mistake ever.
Then I would be alone right now. My stomach clenches at the thought. There’s nothing I hate more than being alone. My mom loves solitude. I’ve heard her say a million times that her favorite part of the day is when we are at school and she has the house to herself. Which I guess makes sense because that’s when she gets to spend time with imaginary characters, and we all know that she likes them more than real-life people. As a kid I used to be so jealous of her characters. In her office she has a corkboard where she pins little index cards filled with information about her characters – height, weight, hair and eye color. I used to go into her office, yank down those cards and tear them into tiny pieces. It was like I believed I could truly get rid of them that way. But all I succeeded in doing was making Mom upset with me. As if I needed to give her any more ammunition.
But I don’t have imaginary friends or characters filling my mind. Therefore, when I’m alone, I’m truly alone. And I hate it. I hate the silence. I hate the emptiness. I hate the loneliness. But most of all I hate feeling like no one really cares. Being at this party with Josh’s arm around me, I can pretend I’m someone special. Someone worthy of attention. Even if deep down, I know it isn’t true.
Josh, Chase and Nolan are talking about baseball while chugging their beers. The bitter scent wafts under my nose. When Josh laughs some beer sloughs out of his cup and lands on the toe of my boot. He doesn’t notice and keeps on talking. Ashley sidles up beside me, her gaze flitting around. Clearly she’s on the prowl. I nod my head in Hayes’ direction.
“Hayes has been checkin’ you out since we got here,” I say.
“Of course he has.” She rolls her eyes. “But I’m so not interested.”
“Why not? Hayes is a nice guy.” I’ve always liked him. He’s funny and easy to talk to. He never judges me the way some of the other guys do. During the first baseball party I attended with Ashley, he was the only guy who talked to me at all. Ashley had immediately abandoned me for some guy she hooked up with, and I was all by myself. None of the other guys on the team would even look at me, much less talk to me. Oh, the perils of being the pitcher’s sister . But Hayes saw me sitting alone in the middle of the field counting weeds, and we struck up a conversation. By the end of the night I found myself crushing on him a little. Cal was upset when he found us, worried that Hayes had been hitting on me, but I assured him that Hayes wasn’t. And I was being truthful. Nothing about the way Hayes interacted with me felt predatory at all. He was nice, friendly, and funny. That’s it.
“I’m not looking for nice.” Ashley stares at Hayes, wrinkling her nose. “I’m looking for hot. And that tub o’ goo is not hot.”
I hate when Ashley says things like that. Hayes is a bigger guy, yes.
Pulling my gaze away from Christian, I hurry over to Josh. Perhaps if I focus on my boyfriend I can erase all thoughts of the boy that shouldn’t be on my mind. As Josh drapes his arm over my shoulders, drawing me into his side, I remind myself that I made the right choice when I stayed with him. Clearly our kiss meant nothing to Christian. He kisses new girls every week. It’s like his lips can’t help themselves. They have to attach to any girl within a two-mile radius or something. I can’t believe I fell for his act. I would’ve thrown away everything for him, and that would have been the worst mistake ever.
Then I would be alone right now. My stomach clenches at the thought. There’s nothing I hate more than being alone. My mom loves solitude. I’ve heard her say a million times that her favorite part of the day is when we are at school and she has the house to herself. Which I guess makes sense because that’s when she gets to spend time with imaginary characters, and we all know that she likes them more than real-life people. As a kid I used to be so jealous of her characters. In her office she has a corkboard where she pins little index cards filled with information about her characters – height, weight, hair and eye color. I used to go into her office, yank down those cards and tear them into tiny pieces. It was like I believed I could truly get rid of them that way. But all I succeeded in doing was making Mom upset with me. As if I needed to give her any more ammunition.
But I don’t have imaginary friends or characters filling my mind. Therefore, when I’m alone, I’m truly alone. And I hate it. I hate the silence. I hate the emptiness. I hate the loneliness. But most of all I hate feeling like no one really cares. Being at this party with Josh’s arm around me, I can pretend I’m someone special. Someone worthy of attention. Even if deep down, I know it isn’t true.
Josh, Chase and Nolan are talking about baseball while chugging their beers. The bitter scent wafts under my nose. When Josh laughs some beer sloughs out of his cup and lands on the toe of my boot. He doesn’t notice and keeps on talking. Ashley sidles up beside me, her gaze flitting around. Clearly she’s on the prowl. I nod my head in Hayes’ direction.
“Hayes has been checkin’ you out since we got here,” I say.
“Of course he has.” She rolls her eyes. “But I’m so not interested.”
“Why not? Hayes is a nice guy.” I’ve always liked him. He’s funny and easy to talk to. He never judges me the way some of the other guys do. During the first baseball party I attended with Ashley, he was the only guy who talked to me at all. Ashley had immediately abandoned me for some guy she hooked up with, and I was all by myself. None of the other guys on the team would even look at me, much less talk to me. Oh, the perils of being the pitcher’s sister . But Hayes saw me sitting alone in the middle of the field counting weeds, and we struck up a conversation. By the end of the night I found myself crushing on him a little. Cal was upset when he found us, worried that Hayes had been hitting on me, but I assured him that Hayes wasn’t. And I was being truthful. Nothing about the way Hayes interacted with me felt predatory at all. He was nice, friendly, and funny. That’s it.
“I’m not looking for nice.” Ashley stares at Hayes, wrinkling her nose. “I’m looking for hot. And that tub o’ goo is not hot.”
I hate when Ashley says things like that. Hayes is a bigger guy, yes.
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