"Make it all about me, I'm on my own planet
'Round and 'round I go, take it all for granted
Hard to see when you live inside your own head
Stuck in the cycle, pushing idols, so I might as well"
"What even is this?" Sherrie and I look up at one another when I ask the question.
"I don't know," her shoulders shrug lazily, "every time I start this car it automatically turns to this radio station." She smashes the side of her fist down on the top of her dash. "Can't figure out how to fix it." She shrugs again and changes the station.
We buckle our belts and roll our windows down, chatting excitedly about the party we're going to this evening at Brandon Laker's house.
I'm currently experiencing one of those situations where you snap back into consciousness. I'm not sure how long I've been at the party or what time it is, but I'm here and I'm aware of that. Looking around my shoulder, Larson Elher is dancing right behind me; his hands are on me and I shove him off. He laughs and lurches back toward me when I maneuver around him. I hear others laughing with him, calling me a crazy bitch. I don't care. All I want are my friends, my girls. Where are they?
Mara squeals from somewhere to my left and a liquid smile flows over my face. I know she only makes that noise when she's with Jesper, and usually doing something they shouldn't be doing in public. I don't care right now. I just want my friends.
It feels like an eternity before I even see Mara and Jesper, wrapped sensually around each other with their mouths smashed together now. She still seems so far away, I feel like I've pushed past Mac Latill and Maddy Harrison eight thousand times. Why is everyone on top of each other? Something drops in my stomach.
A girl I don't know is standing in front of me. Everyone is blurring together like slurred words. She looks so familiar. She's holding a baby, swaddled in pink. The girls hair is pulled back into a braid. Her eyes are shining brightly. It looks unnatural on her face. The baby's arms reach up out of the swaddle, reaching for her mother. I don't remember walking over to them, but I'm looking down at the baby girl. She has gorgeous eyes that strike a nerve in my heart and in my stomach. The baby girl turns to me and I feel tears prick, my throat constricting, fingers curling. I hear her coo and my hand is covering my mouth. Tears have spilled over. My other hand reaches toward the little girl. I look up to ask her mother what she's doing at a party with a baby. She's gone. My eyes snap down, panic floods me. I whirl around, eyes slicing through the crowd for them. Tears have crusted down my face.
"Montana?" Larson's hands are on my shoulders. "Why are you cryin'?" His hands reach up, cupping my face.
"Get off me, Larson." I snarl, baring my teeth at him.
His gaze darkens. "Fine, I was just tryna be fuckin' nice to ya. Don't cry to me about nothin'." He shoves past me and I flip his back off.
The bright lights of the kitchen snap me back to my thoughts, my tears. I don't remember getting here. I only remember shoving Larson off me. Someone shoves a cold beer in my hand. I blink and I'm handing it back, exchanging it for a full one.
A buzzing haze fills me and spills over. Through the haze, I hear a baby crying. I ask for something stronger.
I wave sporadically to Sherrie and Mara, cackling at their wild hair and smudged makeup. Mara let me douse my clothes in her nicest perfume and use her toothbrush before she dropped me off. Standing at the bottom of my front porch stairs, I take deep breaths to try and sober up before I interact with my family who are laughing loudly in the kitchen.
"Montana Lynn," Pa greets jovially, the screen door smacks shut and I see his eyebrow twitch. I don't remember entering the kitchen. "Guess who's back in town for the summer."
My eyes drag down my Pa's right arm and my first reaction is: I'm so glad I'm drunk.
"Hi, Monty." Beau Gunnar Kincaid, living and breathing. In my kitchen.
