Arriving
After a long night of partying and after partying and packing and goodbyes, I finally got to sleep at 4. I would’ve slept until 2 pm like my usual summers go, but I promised my mom I’d be on the road by 9 so I could get there around lunch. Here I am at 8:30, 4 hours of sleep under my belt, listening to my dad rambling on about being ‘safe’ while I’m there.
“If the boys have drugs or alcohol, I’m not asking you to tattle, but try and get them to do the right thing,” he warned as we ate our waffles. And anyways, if they had drugs and alcohol, I’d probably steal it all. “And don’t feel obligated to smoke and drink if they do it.”
“I can honestly tell you that their words will not affect my judgment.” I’ll still live the high life regardless of what they say.
He smiled with a mouthful of whip cream, making me smile. “That’s my girl.” We ate for a couple more minutes before the worst possible thing popped into his head. “And don’t feel required to be intimate with any of them if they make advances.”
“Dad, ew.”
“I just don’t know if I trust those boys; especially that Thompson kid,” he said, making my heart thud in my chest. “Mitchell may be a smart boy, but that doesn’t mean he’s any good.”
I swallowed the lump in throat and tried to answer without the inevitable shaky voice, “I can handle the boys, Dad.” I hadn’t even thought of Mitchell. I’d been too busy thinking of Brendan, Brooks, and Rhys and how to avoid their antics. I completely disregarded Mitchell and the slight chance of me still liking him.
No. There’s no way. It’s been six years, and I’m a different person. Not better, just different. He told me how he felt six years ago, and I vowed to never like him again. I won’t. I can’t.
“Shouldn’t you be leaving, sweetheart?” Mom asked, grabbing my empty plate from in front of me. “You want to miss the rush, don’t you?”
“I guess so,” I sighed out. I grabbed my duffel bag and suitcase, hugged and kissed my parents goodbye, and left the house. Here we go, I guess.
It took 3 hours to successfully get to the beach house. My mind kept drifting to Mitchell, the girls, and the conversation Rhys and I had last night.
It was at 8 O’clock. We were cleaning up from the party, and I was about to go get ready for my friend Jay’s after party at 10. I had just thrown away the last of the decorations, and I was headed upstairs when Rhys stopped me. “Kennedy, could I speak to you for a minute.”
I nodded and led him into my bedroom. If he wants to talk, I’m going to at least get my hair done while we do. I walked into my en suite bathroom as Rhys sat on my bed, opening the book I had lying at the foot of it. “So I hear you’re going to the beach house tomorrow.”
“I am,” I confirmed, plugging in my straightener. “Shouldn’t you have left already?”
He closed the book and set it down. “I’m leaving in a few minutes. I just want to talk.”
“So talk.”
“I just want you to know that I don’t want you there.”
