Camryn Quinn is finally getting what she wants...sort of. Moving into a dorm and away from her not so supportive father is a good first step, but like everything with him, it comes with strings. She must attend the college of his choosing for at lea...
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"Bro, how the fuck did you do that?" Chase yells with his head cocked to the side, his fingers smashing against the buttons on his controller.
I just laugh and continue to flick and press my own keys to ensure a victory. Chase's girl walks in from the other room and stops a few inches from where we're sitting on the couch. "Uh, Taylor?" she says. "I think some girl is here to see you. Or at least I thought I heard a girl's voice yelling your name outside."
Having delivered her news, she plops down into Chase's lap making him have to duck his head around her to not lose his view of the screen. I ignore her comment while we finish our game. It's not until I hear a thud against the front door that I bother to press pause. No one else seems bothered as they continue to stare at the screen and sip from their beer cans.
Handing off my controller to Anderson, I move towards the front of the house. Our music is loud enough that I barely hear the next thump from the other side of the door. I peer through the peep hole, but don't see anything. I turn the knob and pull the door open, but again, there isn't anyone on my porch.
I'm nearly back inside with the door closed behind when a nose off to the right side of the porch catches my attention. Sure enough, sitting on the concrete railing with her back against the house is Camryn. The bottle sticking out of the top of a brown paper bag in her hand catches the light as she swings it back and forth like she's the conductor of a drunken choir.
She slowly lifts it to her lips, taking a long pull before resting it back in her lap. I clear my throat into the darkness, hoping to get her attention. She either doesn't hear me, or is ignoring me.
"Camryn?"
I swear a soft laugh falls through her lips as she says, "So he is home." She brings the bag to her mouth and takes another sip.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"What the hell am I doing?" She gives that laugh again. "I'm just having a little drink," She slurs and lifts the bag in my direction. "I would offer you some, but—well then there wouldn't be enough for me."
She finally tilts her head towards me and the light reflects off her glossed over eyes. Not only did she show up here looking for me, she's piss-ass drunk.
I haven't seen her, or talked to her since I left her to find a ride home after the museum three days ago. I even skipped our session today because I didn't want to deal with her. She was upset the other night, but not the kind that would lead to this.
She all but told me to go fuck myself, so it doesn't make sense why she came here.
I haven't dared to move closer, but when she goes to move off the rail and nearly falls on her face. It's pure instinct to lunge with a hand out to catch her. With a steady grip on her arm, I help her sit on the floor and then ask," What are you doing here?"
