Eighteen

Retribution

                         CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I was starting to feel it—the same insidious feeling that always found me at the bottom of the bottle. It blanketed me in numbness, and for the first time in forever, the echoes of Julian's betrayal were quiet.

If the pregame were a competition, I was definitely in first.

"My mom won't be back until Sunday." Lydia turned to me before she headed up the stairs. "So we'll have the house to ourselves this weekend."

She was so composed. "Message me when you get there, and I'll show you where our tent is." If the red in her cheeks hadn't deepened, giving her away, I would have never known that she was even feeling the effects at all.

She left me after that to join Noah and Ian as hosts for the evening. I turned away and let the intoxication walk me back over the bed. It was the best kind of feeling, like taking the passenger seat in your own body.

I didn't have to think. Or worry. Or mourn. None of that could reach me here.

"Nathan's on his way," Avery said as I plopped back down next to her at the foot of the bed.

"Is he picking us up first?" I asked, "Or them?" Avery's features hardened. At first, she didn't say anything, like she was mulling over all the possibilities in her head.

"He's probably gonna pick them up first." This new revelation had her reaching for the bottle. Avery wasn't even close to touching where I was. She didn't have a reason to dive off the deep end.

But something changed after these newly calculated facts, and I wasn't exactly sure what. She grabbed for the bottle and put herself closer to me in the race to the other side.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked, without even meaning to.

The heat in my face made my head feel too heavy for my body. I laid back on the comforter and felt the flames expand to my ears. "What happened at prom?"

She sighed, joining me on the cotton blanket, her eyes unmoving from the ceiling. "I just told Aiden that I don't feel that way about him."

Avery never painted a full picture of anything. Sometimes, if you were lucky, she would throw out scraps for you to put together yourself. "And I probably never will."

But usually there were far too many missing pieces for there to ever be a complete puzzle. Which always left my mind wandering.

"So," As a passenger, I was only allowed so much control over the more rational parts of my brain. Which made my thoughts harder to predict. "You don't like him, then?"

"No, Faith." Her voice jumped to the same octave that it did earlier. "I don't like him."

"I'll be honest, though." She continued, "I do feel bad about everything."

Our conversation ended there, with more questions than answers. The situation wasn't crystal but I understood things a fraction of an inch more clearly. Maybe, while my expedition was driven by hurt, hers was running on guilt.

We both heard Nathan pull into the driveway. The loud music makes his car especially distinguishable.

I was comfortable where I was. The world felt conquerable, and my mind was tuned to a channel that played only white noise. This would've been a good place to settle down if it were any other night, just not tonight.