Charlotte gives Chase a confused look while he’s talking, and I try to change the topic before he says something he regrets. “Why did you come here, Chase?”
“Weeeelllll, a bunch of Silvers crashed the partayyy—”
“What! Where are Mason and Noah?” I interrupt him, worried for my friends and thinking about the last time the Kings and Silvers clashed.
“Relaaxx,” he slurs. “Nason and Moah are fine. The crashers were cool. The Silvers that we all hate are at the Tra—oops.” He stops himself before he finishes.
“Where are the bad Silvers, Chase?” I ask him, not even sure if he’s a reliable source since he got Mason’s and Noah’s names mixed up.
“I . . . I . . . what do I know? I’m drunk? Remember? Maybe you’re the drunk one!” He laughs.
“What do the Silvers crashing the party have to do with you coming here?” Charlotte tries to bring him back on track.
“Oh yeah! Anywayy. These Silvers are cool, ya know? Like, they’re just chill. But they brought their girlfriends with them. And I was lookin’ around and thought, wow, ever’one has a girlfriend. Even Noah was hooking up with some chick and Mason was talking to some girl.”
A little pit of jealousy rises in my stomach when he says Mason’s with a girl. I don’t know why, but I feel it. I know we’re just friends. That we’ll only ever be just friends, but the attention I get from Mason is nice; it makes me feel normal.
Chase continues, looking at Charlotte. “And I thought, they all look so happy. I could be happy if I just grew some balls and said how I really felt. I’m soo stupid for not telling you that I—”
“Chase!” I interrupt him, seeing how close he is to making a mistake that he’ll regret in the morning, “I’m leaving now, anyway. How about I drive you home?”
I don’t give him the option as I throw his arm over my shoulder and start walking him away from the door. He’s so drunk he just goes along with it.
“Bye, Char,” I say quickly. “Call you tomorrow.”
We’re at my car and I’m half shoving Chase into it when he notices where he is. “But, I can’t go yet, Amelia. I finally decided I’d man up and tell Charlie that I love her.”
Charlotte has already closed the front door. “I know you do, Chase, but you might want to think this through when you’re sober.”
How Chase feels about Charlotte is pretty noticeable if you look hard enough. He’s always sitting beside her, teasing her about her name, and making sure she’s okay. The one missing piece to the puzzle is how she feels about him. We’ve never talked about it, and so it makes sense to me that Chase should think it through, especially if he’s about to announce to his best friend since childhood that he’s in love with her when he’s decidedly less than sober.
I deposit Chase in the passenger seat and jog around to the driver’s side. “If you puke in my car, you’re dead.” I start the car and pull out of the driveway.
“I have thought it through. Not the puking. About telling her. All those couples are sooo happy. I wanna be happy. Charlie makes me feel that way and I wanna be with her.”
“Chase, even if you did decide to tell her, you shouldn’t do it while you’re drunk.” I sigh. “I’ll just get you home and if you still want to tell her, you can do it tomorrow.”
“I can’t go home. I told my parents we weren’t drinking since last time Noah got a concussion.”
“Okay, then where were you supposed to stay?” I’m not patient enough to deal with a smashed Chase. “Where—”
I look over at the passenger seat to find Chase already passed out. “Ughh, why me?” I complain out loud to myself.
Pulling over, I grab my phone to call one of the Boys so I can drop Chase off at their house. Mason and Noah are probably still at the party—they don’t answer my calls. Julian’s phone is off, and Aiden’s rang once then went straight to voice mail. Jerk. I call again, and this time it skips the ring entirely and goes into voice mail, meaning he turned his phone off. I guess I’m taking Chase to my house.
Once we pull into my driveway, I turn off the car and turn to look at my new predicament.
“Chase?” I shove him, and nothing. “Chase!” I shove him again, and again, and the boy barely even moves.
Fantastic. How am I supposed to get this giant, sleeping man into my house? Maybe I should just let him sleep it off in my car? But what if he pukes? I don’t need my car to smell like vomit and regret. Getting out and rounding the car to his side, I open the door and take off his seat belt.
“Chase?” I try one last time, and his head lolls to the side as I shake him.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sigh in frustration. Looks like I’m putting that gym membership to good use. Reaching into the car, I put my hands under his arms and after several unsuccessful attempts, I manage to pull him out and lean him against the car.
“Chase!” I practically yell into his ear.
He murmurs something and slumps on the roof of my car. Standing behind him, I wrap my arms around his back and link my hands together across his chest, under his arms. When I move him away from the car, the sudden force of his full weight causes me to stumble, and the two of us practically slam into a tree, Chase taking the brunt of it.