august girls

chapter 7

Azalea

This party is fun.

I guess.

I'm surrounded by people I've known since I was in middle school and yet my chest is tightening with some kind of loneliness. And guilt.

I know it's because of Brandy. I should be somewhat angry that this girl is ruining my mood at the first party of the summer, but all I want right now is to be standing next to her. Or even dancing. Or even swimming in Peter's pool. I wonder what she looks like in a bathing suit.

I decide to give up on socializing and go to grab another drink. By the time I get to the table though, I decide drinking might not be the best idea as I have no idea where Patrick (who is my ride) is.

I also already feel as nauseous as I would 7 drinks in. Peter's comment about Brandy just being my new entertainment for the summer made me want to slap him in the face and squeeze Brandy's hand in front of everyone all at once.

And don't get me started on Maeve.

The idea that she felt the need to somewhat mark her territory on me to Brandy should feel flattering, but I just feel confused. First of all, we never dated. I've never dated anyone in St. Augustine. I've listened to enough summer fling breakup songs to know it never works out.

Second of all, I couldn't tell you for the life of me how Brandy felt about Maeve's words. At first, she had just looked shocked at the girl's bluntness. Then her face just transformed into her normal, blank mask. I wish I could read her better.

Azalea, get your shit together and just go talk to her.

I should just tell her that Peter is wrong and that Maeve is a naturally jealous person and she isn't even my ex. Simple.

I start trudging and pushing through the teenage crowd, searching g for a familiar dark head of hair when Carmen stops me.

"Jesus, Azalea, you look like you're acting out some superhero on a mission shit," Carmen says with a lazy grin.

"I am actually a woman on a mission," I say, hoping she'll wander off so I can continue my search. "I'm currently trying to locate your best friend."

"Aw, but my best friend's standing right in front of me!"

I give her a look.

"Ok, ok," she dramatically rolls her eyes, "Patrick had to take Brandy home because she's a mega lightweight and was about to drown herself in this four foot pool."

Shit.

Somehow, this feels like my fault.

"Turn that frown upside down, lover girl. They just left. I'm sure you can catch them outside the house."

Encouraged by her words, I rush to the path that leads to the front of the house, throwing a thank you over my shoulder.

Sure enough, Patrick is approaching his car with a slow moving Brandy next to him. From her dazed smile and her swaying steps, I can tell Carmen was correct about her being a lightweight.

"Wait, Patrick," I yell after them.

They both turn to look at me.

"Azalea, it's you!" Brandy exclaims. Seeing her this drunk in our first week at the beach was not something I expected for this summer.

I smiled sheepishly at her, still feeling guilty, and went to address Patrick.

"You should stay here with your girlfriend, I can drive her home."