~Trista~
"Hey, guys! The punch is ready." J-Dog came out of his house with a glass pitcher in one of his hands, holding the red punch. In the other, he held a bag of stacked Solo Cups.
Jordon sighed, and he started to slouch in the ugly green lawn chair he was in, "Punch? Out of all the things, you get punch? J, you know that we are all grown men and women here, right?"
Jorel say the pitcher down on the table, then gave Charles a glance, "You know, it has alcohol in it, dumbass."
Charlie hesitated, and after a second he sat up straight in his chair, "Knowing you, I doubt there's anything in there."
Johnny walked out of the house, then across the yard toward us. He held a half-full bottle of vodka, and Jordon sighed.
Vodka was the worst kind of alcohol. The clear substance made me want to throw up every time it entered my mouth. The first time I've ever tried it was when I was about 13. My dad had set out a glass of plain vodka out, and I, thinking it was water, almost drank the whole thing before I noticed the taste.
"Gimme some of that sh*t." Charlie said, standing up and walking to the table where the pitcher was. He took a red cup and filled it almost to the rim with the punch.
"Really?" I say, as he sits back down. He chuckles.
George sat the alcohol down and he walked over to me. The other guys started to talk about something else, not even paying attention. He whispered, "Could you come inside for a sec? I have to tell you something."
I just stared at him for the longest time, and before anything else, he rolled his eyes. Before I was standing for a second, he was already at the back door. He slid it open, then walking into the clean kitchen. I followed, then closed the door after me.
"What is it about?" I ask curiously, stepping toward him, "Is it about Charlie? How I shouldn't--"
"You're my sister," George blurted out, not even letting me finish my sentence. It was so quick and simple I had no words. "I know you probably think I'm making sh*t up, but I'm not."
"What the f*ck." I say, totally astonished. I couldn't help but fall down into a chair, sitting and staring at the floor.
"Trista Jade Ragan." Johnny quietly says, leaning on the counter.
It's quiet for a few moments, but then he lets out a loud sigh.
~Johnny 3 Tears~
The room was quiet. My feet weren't even able to touch the tiled floor, so I decided it was a good idea to kick my legs. The chair was slightly cushioned, black, and terribly uncomfortable. I was a little kid, so who cares if it was or not?
There were a couple people sitting around the room, waiting, reading magazines or newspapers. My mother was up front at the desk, holding the swaddled baby as she filled out paper work. I didn't want to give her my attention. She didn't deserve it right now. I loved her so much, but I was aggravated with her.
After she finished, she turned to me, then walked over and crouched down so I could see the precious little girl she was holding.
"Trista Jade Ragan." I said, then gave her a kiss on the head before my mom went into another room.
Short chapter! Sorry.
