Chapter Forty-Six: "Booze, Bruises, and Beds."
WHAT THE HELL is he doing here?
"Then we'll talk tomorrow. You're not supposed to be here!" I hiss, dragging him away from the crowd. If anyone noticed him. . . then tonight won't be a good night.
"It's been too long." He says. "I miss you, and I want to make things right."
"Then go home!" I snap. "Atticus, you can't be here! If the boys see you here, they'll snap and it won't be good."
"Brooklyn. . ." He pleads.
"Atticus!" I say sternly. "Go. Home."
He leans in closer, sniffing me. His eyes darken and widen in anger. "Have you been drinking?"
"What? Of course I have! Now go away. I'm at the level of drunk where my actions come first and thought comes later." I slur, and his eyebrows furrow.
"You speak Spanish when you're drunk, don't you?" He deadpans, and I nod instead of answering. He sighs heavily, and scans my face. "You look really good in glasses."
He leans in slowly, and the only thing that comes to my mind is: red flags. Red flags everywhere!
He's going to kiss me!
Last second, right when his nose brushes mine, I put my hands over his face to stop him, and jump away, pointing to the door.
"Come on, Brooklyn, I'm sorry." He says, and I shake my head.
"Don't make me get someone, Atticus." I say softly.
"I thought you liked me?" He continues, and I groan, tugging at my hair. This is too much. He's trying to talk to me while I'm drunk and that's not good! I don't speak the truth when I'm drunk, I'm the complete opposite: a drunk Brooklyn speaks lies, not sober thoughts.
"I did. I did like you that way but now I don't." I say.
He chuckles, then turns to walk away.
I pay no mind to it. I can't, I don't want to. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and slump against the wall.
What made him think that he could mosey on in to the house where his rivals live to demand me forgiveness, then has the audacity to compliment me and try kiss me? I may be drunk but I'm not fucking stupid, and I have a boyfriend. Of whom I am loyal to.
I stand there for a good five minutes, just trying to calm myself and relax.
When I compose myself, I sigh and walk to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of strawberry vodka, opening it and taking a drink.
"Brooklyn!"
I turn my head to the source and see Lance waving me over. I push through the hot bodies of sweaty teenagers and make my way over to him.
"What's up?" I pant. Pushing through those people was a tough exercise.
"Play beer pong with us. We're short a player." He grins, and I shrug.
"Sounds fun," I say excitedly. "But I don't know how to play."
"It's easy," he says, throwing an arm over my shoulder. "All you gotta do is throw a ping pong ball into one of the cups across from you and if it goes in, then the other team has to drink the contents of whatever cup the ball gets thrown into. It's an easy way to get drunk." He explains.
"Well, I'm already drunk, so game on!" I shout, and everyone around us hoots, and teams are starting to get formed. I catch Landon on the other side of the room who looks at me with a smirk on his face. I talked to him not too long ago and he already knows how much alcohol I consumed, but then he got dragged away by some of the lacrosse boys and I haven't seen him in over an hour until now.
He doesn't look drunk, though, so I assume he's sober.
In the end, I'm teamed up with Lance, Zach, Maya, and some other senior named Beck, and the team against us is Jacob, the two twins, and my eyes widen when I see that the other players were Annabelle and Mary.
Of course they showed up.
Annabelle doesn't look pissed for some suspicious reason. She looks oddly victorious, and that kinda worries me, but with my drunken mind, I don't pay attention to it and decide to have fun with the alcohol now and face the consequences later.
Louis is the scorekeeper, since apparently he's the one keeping track of the games being played and the winners, so there's a final round for those who won.
"Go ahead, you drunk motherfuckers!" Louis yells, and our team was able to start first.
"You first, Rookie." Zach nudges me, and I grin, tossing the ping pong ball and it splashes into one of the cups in the middle of the table. I smile in satisfaction before Landon picks up the glass and chugs it down with ease.
He winks at me before the trend continues and by the end, I'd like to say we're all drunk. Annabelle and Maya chugged the most, but I wasn't far behind. Lance drank the least, the same goes for Liam, who I think only drank a cup before the game ended. All in all, the opposite team, Team Banana, won. I don't know why, but we ended up having fruits and vegetables as our team names.
We were Team Eggplant, go figure. I already knew that they had to sexualize the game. Every game.
"Maybe next time, babe." Landon sings, swinging an arm around my shoulder.
"Shut up." I mumble.
He laughs. "Having fun?"
"Right now, yes. Tomorrow, probably not." I sigh. "But who knows, tonight could change."
"I didn't know she was showing up." He says, and I shrug.
"It's okay, it's a party. It's not like it was private." I ensure him. "I think I mightâ"
"Landon!" Someone screams, and we look to see the same senior that was on my team for beer pong. "Thank God I found one of you! You need to come quick."
"Can't you see I'm busy?"
"No, dude, come on, we got a fight out front."
"What's up, Beck?"
"Liam, and some other kid are at it bad." He huffs. He looks like he's been running around for a while.
"Who?"
"I don't know, but I was looking all over for any of you and you're the only one I found. We've tried everything but they won't separate!"
"Okay, okay," Landon says in a rush, grabbing my hand. "Come on."
We're lead outside, and my eyes widen when I see Liam on top of some guy, throwing heavy punches at his face. He gets a few pretty hard hits in until the guy flips them over, and I gasp when I see the opponent.
Atticus.
He's a lot stronger than I thought.
It's slightly harder for Liam to throw him off, but he finally manages to find a loop hole.
"You son of a bitch!" Liam screams, and throws Atticus off of him, and they both stand up, going at it again and Landon grips my hand roughly, running towards the yard. It's hard for me to keep up with how long his strides are, so I just let him drag me.
He finally lets go of my hand and rushes up to his brother, stepping in between the two, but it fails, making him get a punch in the cheek by his brother.
It definitely struck him but he doesn't show it. Beck was right, nothing is stopping the two.
So I make the drunken decision to interfere.
"Stop!" I scream, pushing myself between Landon and Atticus. "Liam, Atticus, stop, please!" I duck when a punch is thrown from Atticus, and then touch his face.
It's like everything stops. Their fists are raised in the air but not connecting to any faces. I can hear the heavy breathing and I sigh in relief once I realize I stopped them. I don't pay attention and instead turn to Landon and Liam.
Liam has a busted lip and nose, and Landon's cheek is starting to puff, with a cut on the cheekbone. "Are you okay?" I ask them both.
"Get that piece of shit out of my face!" Liam hisses. "Get him off my fucking yard before I shoot him!"
My eyes widen at his hostile tone and Landon nudges me to take Atticus away. "What about you?"
"Don't worry, just take him." He says softly, and I nod numbly, turning to Atticus and pulling him away. A crowd has formed but now that the fight is over, they're starting to disperse.
"Where are you taking me?" He mumbles, and I clench my jaw, yanking him harder.
"Home." I hiss. "I told you to leave! Why didn't you?"
"I was, Sweetheart, I promise," he argues, and stops, making me turn around to face him. His eye is dark, his top lip is swollen, and he has a cut running across his forehead.
The whole walk to his house is silent.
"You're an idiot." I sigh once we finally reach his laneway.
"Why?" He asks.
"Because you shouldn't have shown up in the first place, Atticus. You knew those boys would tear you apart. Why would you take that risk?"
He unlocks his door, and I groan when I see none of his mothers in sight. Where's a doctor when you need one?
"Because I needed to see you. I need to apologize."
I push him towards the counter, and he takes a seat while I go to his bathroom and raid his medicine cabinet. When I find what I'm looking for, I see that Atticus has stripped out of his muddy clothes and is just in his boxers.
That little shit.
I freeze in step, but shake my head to clear my mind and stand in front of him, placing the products on the countertop.
"Do you mind if I wear this?" He asks. "If not, I can go change. I just don't want to keep you waiting, I know you want to get back."
"Yeah, I do," I say harshly, "because I know how I am when I'm drunk and I know you're purposely doing this, Atticus. And I don't appreciate being taken advantage of. Especially when I'm under the influence and my head is clouded."
"I've wanted you since I laid eyes on you, Brooklyn." He tells me. "And I shouldn't have said what I did at lunch that day. I was just anxious with what Annabelle would do to Carly. I was scared."
"Still doesn't make up for disrespecting me and where I come from. Being Mexican had nothing to do with me sticking up for Carly and Becca. That was just me being me and if you had a problem with that, then that's too bad for you because I'm amazing and I know I'm amazing, but you don't. It's your loss."
"I know, I know you're amazing and I didn't mean anything I said, I promise, Sweetheart. . . ow, fuck!"
"Sorry." I say nonchalantly, dabbing more alcohol onto the cotton ball and onto Atticus' forehead.
"Please forgive me. . ." He whispers desperately. "I'll do anything, Brooklyn. Anything for you."
I sigh.
The thing I hate about having this conversation drunk is the fact that I don't have enough soberness in me to think thoroughly about this. So of course, that leads to me saying, "Fine. I forgive you. But I will probably regret it in the morning because you're a fucking idiot for doing this when I've been drinking."
"Yeah. Sorry." He chuckles, but then hisses in pain. "I haven't failed to notice that you've spoken English throughout this conversation."
"Yeah, me too. But I'm also mad, so that could be why. And I'm also sobering up." I say. I then place the bandage over his forehead, press it together with my fingers, then pack up his first aid kit.
He stares at me for a moment, and my heart starts to race when I see desire flash through his eyes. It then gets covered up with sadness, remorse, and guilt. I blink.
"Can I hug you? Or is that against policy?" He asks, and I eye him suspiciously. I have a miniskirt and revealing tank top on. Is he going to try to seduce me? He sees my hesitation and sighs. "I'm not trying to take advantage of you, Sweetheart. Just a friend hug?"
"Okay." I whisper, and he gives me a small smile before pulling me into his chest. He's really warm, and I haven't noticed how cold I was until he gave me my heat.
"Christ, you're freezing." He whispers, and I nod into his shoulder. Considering I'm standing and he's sitting, I'm his height.
"Yeah, I'm a poor conductor of heat." I laugh, and pull away. "I should probably get back, though. The boys will worry if I'm out too late since the bears haven't got fully into hibernation yet."
"Yeah, it's still a little warm to them, given that it's November." He replies, and rubs my cheek. "I'm still sorry, Sweetheart."
"It's okay," I say honestly. "I'll see you at school Monday. Good night." He pecks my forehead and grins, and I give him a kiss on the cheek for the heck of it and walk to the front door.
I jog back to the house, and I see the party still in full swing. I sigh, and tread to the front door, swinging it open. Bodies are dancing around the living room and family room, and some are making out in the unsuspecting corners, as if it'll give them secrecy.
I try finding any of the brothers, but so far all I'm coming up with strangers, until I spot Jacob in the crowd, flirting with a girl.
"Jacob!" I exclaim, rushing up to him.
"Yes?" He turns towards me. "Make it quick, Brooklyn, I'm in the middle of somethin'."
"Where are the boys?"
"Which one?"
"Either."
"Oh! Um, last I saw, Liam and Landon went to the bathroom to clean his face."
I nod, and rush to the closest bathroom. There's six of them, so they should be easy to find. And I can cross the one in my room off because people shouldn't be in my room to begin with.
Four bathrooms later and they aren't found.
I check the one on the second floor which has Landon, Liam, and Lance's rooms. The door is closed, so I squint my eyes in case I find anyone doing the dirty in one of our bathrooms.
There were couples hooking up in one of the ones in the basement and second floor. Thankfully, none of them were Landon.
I open the door, and my eyes widen.
Make that three couples.
"Maya?"
They both turn around.
"Lance?" I gasp.
"Brooklyn!" They both shout in surprise, and I widen my eyes, slamming the door.
Oh my God!
Did I really just see. . . Maya and Lance making out in the bathroom? Does this mean that Maya is cheating on Tyson? Are they broken up? Could he have cheated on her and this is revenge?
Eugh, tonight is not a good night for me to be racking my brain!
Screw this, I'm going to bed. Next thing I know, Zach will be getting it on with one of the horses, and I don't want to come across that.
I groan loudly and make my way upstairs. I just wanna go to bed, hope I drank enough where I can't remember what happened tonight, and sleep all day because the hangover tomorrow is not going to be friendly.
I slip off the heels and then bounce up the stairs in a heap of exhaustion. I wasn't expecting tonight to be so hard on me. First partying, then drinking, then Atticus, then drinking again, then Atticus again, then walking home drunk, then Maya and Lance. It's all too tiring for me.
I open the door to my room and jog up the steps, throwing the heels onto the floor beside my bed. I grab the tip of the fishnet leggings and slip them off under my skirt, and take my top off as well. I sigh in contentment when my girls are finally able to let loose. Needless to say, the top was very tight and the wiring of my bra dug into my valley.
I take my hair out of the bun I put it in and let it fall down my shoulders, and make my way to my bathroom. There's no sign that anyone came up here, so I'm relieved to find that my room has been untouched.
I walk tiredly over to my bathroom, but not before checking my phone. There are a couple messages from Landon asking how I was doing with Atticus, and that he wanted to see me before I went to bed, and one from Lacey, telling me to call her in the morning.
I put my phone back on its charger, and go to the bathroom to do my nightly routine. I'll hate to see my room in the morning given I stumbled quite a bit up here.
I do my business, then brush my teeth, followed by washing my face. When I'm done, I see a pile of my clothes on the ground so I bend down to pick them up and put them in my hamper. I was going through what I was going to wear last week that could keep me at a moderate temperature while I kept having hot and cold flashes during my sickness, and I didn't have enough energy to put them away, since that required bending over, and that was painful. Since I only had to go through my closet, it wasn't as painful; I just had to keep standing.
Something pops out in front of my line of sight and I jump up, a small scream coming out of my mouth. I hold my hand to my rapidly beating heart, trying to catch my breath.
"Sorry baby."
"You should never scare a drunk person!" I exclaim, slapping Landon on the chest.
"You're still drunk, huh?" He chuckles, backing away as I bend back down to finish grabbing my clothes.
"Yes. I probably wouldn't be if I didn't play beer pong." I say. Landon is silent, and I turn around to see him looking at me. I look down at myself to see that I still only have a miniskirt and bra on.
Pervert.
"Enjoying yourself?" I question, tossing them in the bin and turn to face Landon, who has a look of desire and want in his eyes. Oh brother.
Over the course of my residency here, I now feel comfortable enough in my own skin where I can walk around freely with not many clothes on. To me, it's no different than wearing a bikini, except the clothes you wear as a substitute are more. . . lustful.
Back in LA, there is no way I would ever do thisâespecially a boy who saw me as more than a close friend. I was fine with Justin and Casey and Johnny and Jason, but it was pushed. Before the bullies, most certainly I would show skin, but after. . . I felt obese, and I was a thin stick.
He walks over to me with a smirk on his face, and grabs and slaps my butt at the same time he says, "Most definitely."
I roll my eyes, and place my hands on his neck lazily. "Yeah, well, you're not getting anything tonight. I'm drained. My brain's been forced to think way too much tonight."
He nods. "Understandable."
"Well, goodnight." I grin, and push myself away from him, taking off my glasses, putting them on my table, and jump onto my bed. The bed dips, and I hear Landon groan.
"Okay, no. This thing is way too uncomfortable. Come on." He says, and I turn to face him, and his face is scrunched up cutely.
"Where?" I press. "I'm tired, Landon."
"I know, Blue." He whispers. "That's why you can sleep in my bed."
"Is that an invitation?"
"Yes." He smirks. "But don't worry, I won't try anything tonight. Simply because I don't want you puking on me."
"Ah, what a sweetheart." I say sarcastically, and sigh, sitting up. "I don't know if I should take you literally or not."
"You should," he states, "we'll strictly be sleeping."
I tilt my head. "In the same bed?"
"Yes?"
"Together?"
"Yes?"
I shrug. "Alright."
"Alright?" He repeats. "You're not bothered by it?"
"No." I say honestly. "But I will be if you try anything."
"Noted." He says with a smile. "Come on, my bed's a lot more comfortable than your bed of steel."
"You better be right." I warn.
"I'm pretty sure anything is more comfortable than your bed, Blue."
"Ditto."
He tugs us down, but I stop myself. How could I forget? The house is loaded with sweaty bodies! "What? What is it?"
"I'm half naked." I say, and turn around to my closet.
"Not a problem." He grins, and before I can blink, the sweater over his back is off.
Sadly, he has a shirt on underneath.
"That's coming off, right?" I ask him as I slip the warm hoodie over my head. It sags, and hangs about the same length the miniskirt does.
He looks down and smirks. "Yes. But I'm kinda tempted to leave it on to tease you."
I roll my eyes. "I was just asking, you idiot. Like I said last week, your heat is a lot better than your trucks."
"Ah, true." He slings an arm over my shoulders. "Anyway," he draws the word, "let's head to bed."
"Don't you have a party to tame?" I question when we start going downstairs. The music is still going off, and it's already around one in the morning, and I can still hear the screaming of the drunks downstairs singing to the music blasting through the McGibbon's expensive sound system.
"I have three brothers who can handle it. Besides, I was kinda done after the fight."
"Yeah," I sigh. "Me too."
"How is he?" Landon asks as we reach his door. Believe it or not, I've maybe only seen Landon's room once or twice the whole time I've lived here, and that's because he wasn't up for school and I needed to wake him up. He's a really organized guy, but his room is still a little messy like you would expect any teenage boy to have his room. It's mostly water bottles, clothes, and books sprawled out on his floor, though. He's not a grubâhe's far from it.
He closes the door behind me, and moves to his bed to grab some clothes off of it. He has a king size bed like I do, sitting in the middle of the left wall, to the right of the window. I just realize that his bed sits exactly where mine does above us.
His desk is across from his dresser under his window, which is next to his walk-in closet beside his door.
Landon takes his shirt off, and I lean against his desk chair, shrugging. "He's fine, physically. He's still upset and eager about my forgiveness."
He starts to unbuckle his jeans, but stops. "Is this okay?" I nod, and he removes the belt, followed by his jeans, revealing his tight black boxers. Oh my God. "Did you forgive him?"
"I told him yes, but there was a good possibility I might regret it in the morning because I'm drunk."
"Did he mean it?"
"I don't know." I say honestly. "I was too focused on his body language and looking for red flags to pay attention to his words."
I watch his back muscles tense as he turns to look at me. His abs shine under his light, and I need to force myself to pull my eyes away from his very toned stomach to his face. "Were there any?" It wasn't a question.
"Um. . . not really." I say shyly, my voice slightly higher in pitch. While drunk, I am also a bad liar.
"That doesn't sound very believable." He grumbles.
"He didn't try anything," I say immediately. "He. . . his clothes were covered in mud, so he took them off. That. . . that was it."
He relaxes a little bit and looks at me expectantly. "Please tell me he was wearing underwear."
"I would've killed him if he wasn't." I point out.
"Okay, good." He sighs in relief. "Because I don't want you seeing anyone naked unless it's me."
"Please don't take those off just to make your statement true." I plead sarcastically, and he clicks his tongue flirtatiously. Another part of me is really nervous that he might actually do it. I've never committed in fornication, but I have gone just a rank underneath that. I wasn't ready then, and I'm not ready now.
"Don't worry," he smiles cheekily, "not until you're sober."
I laugh softly, and he gestures for me to follow him, so I do and situate myself on the edge of his bed. "What side do you sleep on?"
"Center."
I frown. "That's gonna be a problem."
"Why?" He says, narrowing his eyes.
"Because that's where I sleep." I reply.
He chuckles. "I don't see how that's a problem." He tells me. "You can just sleep on me."
"Okay, I know you've slept with girls before, so what side do you sleep on?" I press.
"I've never stayed." He shrugs.
"Landon." I warn.
"What?" He argues, his voice higher. "I've never hooked up with girls at night at their house or mine. Only at parties and during the day, and I leave when she passes out."
I gulp. That doesn't sound promising, and I'm curious if that's what he would do to me if we ever got intimate. I mean, I can't control what time of day it would be at, but what if we did do it during the day? Would he stay? We live together, so it's not like he could go far if we did it here, but would he leave it happened at a party?
What if it happens at night? When he's never done it and I've never even had a chance to go all the way?
"Okay," my breath shakes, "but surely when you stop you lay down before getting up, right? So what side is that?"
"Oh." He snaps his fingers. "That would be the left side."
"Okay, cool. I usually take the right, so that works out." I nod in satisfaction, and fiddle with my fingers when a sudden thought occurs.
If he doesn't stay, why is he letting me sleep in his bed?
Shut up, Brooklyn! He's probably had a bunch of girls sleep in his bed without anything happening. Stop overthinking! God, you overwork everything while you're drunk. Sober up you big baby.
"What are you thinking about?" He asks, sliding closer to me. I move to play with the hem of his sweater before shrugging. I'm not going to overthink this. So much has happened tonight and I simply can't think anymore.
"Nothing." I smile. "Just tired."
"Ditto." He whispers, and I crawl to my side of the bed, shimmying under the covers, Landon following. I face him, and his hand comes to stroke my cheek. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," I say, touching his hand. "I'm good. Are you?"
He smiles, and leans in pressing a soft, gentle kiss to my lips. "I'm great."