Roll the Dice

eight. sarah brown

[Dedicated to Cassie, who is one of the most loyal readers I've had so far. Like me, she's a hopeless romantic, and that really ties into the theme of this entire book, to be honest.]

"You're not even the slightest bit tired?" Dacey asked as the two of us walked along the path in the park where we'd gone running a couple days before. "Like, seriously. I woke up this morning at 6 because I couldn't stand the light coming through the window."

I shrugged, fiddling with my phone in my pocket. "You know I'm a lightweight, Dace. Yesterday, I woke up kinda tired, but I'm okay." I tossed my hair over my shoulder. A breeze blew through my hair, pushing a couple strands back. "What's up with you?"

Dacey let out a very long sigh. "Well, after you and your brother left, I guess I had too much fun with the spiked punch. I, like, totally passed out for an hour before some designated driver dragged me home." She rubbed her head. "It still hurts, you know. You could have more sympathy."

I patted her shoulder. "Better?"

She rolled her eyes, and we passed by the playground, where a couple of toddlers and their moms were all over the equipment. I felt a little nostalgic all of a sudden – maybe Dacey and I could join them for a second. Then I shook my head a little, raising an eyebrow at myself. What was up with me?

"But hey, where's Cara?" Dacey followed my eyes to the playground. "And no, we can't go there." She pointed down to her white shorts, pursing her lips. "They're brand new."

"Starting her internship down in D.C." I huffed a little, idly taking my phone out of my pocket. No new notifications so far. My social life was so dead. "The beach party's the last action she'll ever see this summer." I whipped my hair to the side so that I was directly facing Dacey. "Seriously though – her internship's supposed to last till August 20th."

Dacey whistled. "Talk about dedicated."

"I think she's the only one who wants to look extraordinarily good on her college applications," I whispered conspiratorially to her behind a hand with a twist of a corner of my lips.

Dacey giggled in response, and we continued to walk down the pathway weaving through the rather green park, hands on our hips. We both were still wearing our pajama bottoms and ratty class shirts, so we probably made quite a sight as we passed a couple of old people. (They didn't react as extremely as I thought they would, but we looked exponentially more modest than the legions of half-naked girls they saw on the beach these days.) A couple birds chirped in the high treetops, and as another breeze wafted by lazily, blowing a couple of strands of hair from our high ponytails, I realized that I'd never felt so relaxed – in the company of someone like Dacey – before.

After a while, Dacey cleared her throat. "So what did Carter think about me? He didn't drink, if I'm right."

"Yeah." I glanced around us idly into the grove of tree trunks that seemed to stretch on forever. Some weak rays of sunrays cast a golden ray as they filtered through the dark mossy green of the woods. "He drove me home."

My cheeks felt a little hot now because a hazy recollection of that night flashed back in my mind. There was something about a fire – there was a bonfire then, I remembered – and sand – the bonfire event happened on the beach – and Dom. Especially Dom with his tight white tee and board shorts and dark, furious eyes.

I frowned. I could never quite remember any specifics whenever I was drunk, which happened quite easily since I could practically get myself drunk after catching a whiff of beer on the breath of an overly horny rising junior on the junior varsity football team. It was rather annoying, really.