Regret sits in my stomach like oil on top of water. I drew Gemma in the same way I drove her away.
There’s only myself to blame. I’m the one that sent the photo to Carter, well aware of the chance he’d crow about it at school. I guess part of me was nostalgic for the guy I used to know.
Maybe if I was a better person, I wouldn’t have done anything to hurt her. But I’m not a good person.
My thumb smooths the label over a bottle of whiskey that has a cool illustration.
I haven’t been able to draw for days and it scares me. I feel like I’m cornered and the only way out is football. I threw out my application for Oak Ridge College, finally opening the drawer where I hid it.
I’m only good for one thing. It’s time I accept that.
A knock sounds at the contemporary wall of glass panels on the deck. Carter stands there with a sheepish expression and what I assume is meant to be an I’m sorry six-pack. He’s such a dick.
“I didn’t invite you,” I say as a greeting when I open the door.
“C’mon man, really? I said I was sorry. I don’t know why you have your panties in a twist over some chick. But you do you, bro.”
Devlin comes up the steps behind him. I roll my eyes, turning my back on Carter. He takes the frosty reception as an invitation to come in. They both follow me. Carter puts the six-pack in the fridge.
“Dev, turn on music.” I want to get out of my own head.
He shoots me a finger gun and leaves me in the kitchen with Carter.
I crack open a beer and chug half of it. As soon as it hits my stomach, my body revolts. I keep it down—barely managing. Maybe I’m too stressed to drink. That doesn’t bode well for my plan to get wasted and numb. Bishop better bring the good weed tonight.
Carter hovers at the edge of my periphery. He needs to step back or I’ll lose it.
As other people arrive, I brush off Carter.
The party quickly gets underway, the music cranking and plumes of acrid cigarette, weed, and vape smoke curling into the air from my back deck.
For a while, I throw myself into cheering for a game of beer bong. When it doesn’t fill the hollowness in my stomach, I bum a cigarette from someone I’ve never spoken to and lean on the railing as I smoke.
Thunder rolls in the distance. Maybe it’ll hail. It was sunny this morning, but an approaching storm hangs heavy in the air.
It matches my mood. No matter how much I try to enjoy the party, it’s getting more difficult to be that guy.
I’m hanging with Devlin and Bishop when Carter lopes over to us. He’s drunk. I’ve lost the slight buzz I was working on and haven’t felt like another drink since the abandoned beer.
“Can’t keep me down!” Carter rants incoherently. “Didn’t want to miss out on the life of the party.”
I can feel Devlin and Bishop looking for my reaction. My jaw aches from gnashing my teeth.
“Maybe take the party over there,” Devlin suggests lightly. “Too much party in this corner. Not good for blood pressure.”
Carter sidesteps Bishop’s hand on his shoulder and the attempt to direct him away from me. Carter’s arm lands around my shoulders. He leans in my face with beer breath.
Bishop whistles low. “Dead man walking.”
“Lis’en. Lis’en.” Carter pokes my cheek, ignorant to the rising danger as my shoulders tense. “I only ask because we’re friends. Bros.”
“Yeah?” My tone is threatening. “I don’t know, you haven’t been a great bro recently.”
“No, no,” Carter goes on in complete drunken logic. “You finished with Gemma. So I can slide in now.”
All the nerve endings in my body jump for a fight at his words. Carter comes critically close to meeting my fist in his face. It takes every scrap of restraint I have not to cold-cock him.
The Homecoming game is soon. And the championship game next month. If I fuck with Carter now, I’ll still have to play nice with him and trust him to be my guard.