I think that’s the name of the girl that sat in his lap when we all hung out on Lucas’ dock last week. The one he’s been circling every time I see him.
“Cool. See you later. Good luck on your game.”
Elena holds her arms high in the air like a cheer pose. “Jacks and I rule supreme.” She thumps her chest and affects a deep dude-like voice. “Undefeated.”
I snort and give her a high five before venturing into the house to search for Alec.
This time I find him in the living room dancing between two girls—one of them that cheerleader, Marissa. She’s draped over his back, her manicured nails roaming his chest as he gazes up at the vaulted ceiling with glassy eyes. I don’t see Sasha around, but Alec’s face twists in a sour expression. He sways heavily from side to side, offbeat from the music.
“Are you drunk?” The accusatory words spill from me before I can process what I’m seeing.
He’s worse for wear, more blasted than I’ve ever seen. I haven’t touched drinking since the night with Matt, not interested in letting my guard down. But Alec has never gotten this sloppy.
He looks messed up as fuck.
“Alec.”
Marissa wrinkles her nose at me, sneering, “Chill out. What are you, his mom?”
A heavy sigh hisses between my teeth.
“Can you not see he needs you two to hold him up right now?” I reach for Alec, but he lets out a belligerent slurred grunt and shoves me away. “Alec, what the fuck, dude? Mom’s going to kill you. She’s lenient, but this is too far.”
“S’not,” Alec mumbles, turning his glower on me. “G’way!”
“Okay. You need, like, so much water. And to lie down.” I sniff the alcohol wafting off him. It seeps out of his pores with his sweat. “Ugh. And a damn shower. Why did you do this?”
Marissa and the other girl dig their claws in.
“Don’t be such a prissy bitch,” Marissa’s friend snipes in a mean girl tone. She’s like a carbon copy of Marissa, wearing a matching black leather miniskirt and a purple sweater. Their hair is even in the same high ponytail with a cheer bow. I decide to call her Marissa 2. She pinches my brother’s cheek. “Alec’s fine. Aren’t you, baby?”
And there’s the roil in my stomach I’ve been waiting for. My lip curls and I tug my brother away from them.
“If your definition of fine is unconscious and unable to consent!” The force of my own traumatic experience bleeds into my anger. The girls step back. “Go dance with someone else. I’m going to get my brother some help.”
“Whatever,” Marissa mutters. Most of her attention is on the guys in the corner where Lucas and his cohort hang around a keg. “Come on, Kel. There’s better dick hunting over there.”
Marissa and Marissa 2 hold hands and leave me to support all of Alec’s weight when they push him into me. I grit my teeth and awkwardly maneuver him over to the couch. No one offers me a hand or does much to get out of my way.
“Need some help?”
I jump at Lucas’ voice, not expecting him to materialize behind me when I just saw him across the room. I attempt to shrug, but it’s impossible with my brother weighing me down.
“Here.” Lucas takes Alec’s other arm
and together we get him settled on the couch. Alec groans. “Yeah, I hear you, buddy.” Lucas pats Alec’s shoulder. “I’ll get him a water bottle.”
“Thanks.”
I fuss with Alec’s hoodie, tugging it over his head to help cool him down.
“If you puke on me, you officially owe me for life.”
Alec lets out a garbled moan. His face is flushed and he can’t keep his eyes focused for too long. I mop the sweat from his brow with his sweatshirt.
“What did you get yourself into?”
Alec grumbles incoherent strings of words under his breath. Maybe in his head the rant makes sense, but all I hear is gibberish. I can’t take him home like this. Mom and Dad will stop trusting us to be responsible and go back to the helicopter parent act.