Tethered (5 page)

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Authors: L. D. Davis

BOOK: Tethered
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“I thought I gave you a drink,” he said, thinking about it really hard.

I shrugged and smiled. He smiled back. “That’s okay. We can do some shots.”

I looked through the open kitchen doorway for Emmy. I didn’t see her. I was a little worried, but not that worried. What was the worst that could happen with her brother only a few feet away from her? I almost laughed out loud, because Emmet was definitely the worst thing that could happen to her.

Jorge poured four shots out of a big red, square bottle I watched him open. I knew the bottle was new, so I didn’t worry about being tranquilized. He handed me a shot and clinked his glass with mine.

“What is it?” I asked, looking at the red liquid.

“Aftershock,” he grinned. “It tastes like Big Red gum with a kick.”

I shrugged. I liked Big Red. I took the shot.

“Holy fuck!” I yelled a moment later as I felt the stuff burning down my throat.

Jorge laughed and handed me the second shot. I had just had my very first shot and he was already handing me another. I had sips of wine before, and Emmy and I shared a beer once over the summer, but I had never done anything hard. One shot was going to impair me. Two shots were going to knock me on my ass.

“You’re really pretty,” Jorge said in my ear as I contemplated the shot.

He took his shot and looked at me expectantly. He was really cute. I took it.

Four more shots later, Emmet finally caught up with me. He had Emmy - who looked as fucked up as I felt - by the arm.

“Let’s go,” he said angrily. “Now.”

Jorge’s arm was around me. He held me a little bit closer, throwing us both off balance. We giggled as we tried to find our footing.

“She’s fine where she is, Grayne,” Jorge said coolly to Emmet.

“She doesn’t look fine,” he snapped and then beckoned me with a wave of his hand. “Let’s go, Donya.”

Jorge looked down at me, got nose to nose with me. I could feel his hot breath on my lips. “You don’t have to go anywhere with him. He’s not your daddy. He’s nothing.”

I laughed hysterically. Jorge laughed with me though neither of us knew what we were really laughing at.

“He’s my brother,” I managed through my laughter.

Jorge laughed harder, too. This was funny. This was freakin’ hilarious.

“I’m not your brother,” Emmet bit out.

My laughter died. That kind of hurt. Emmet was always my brother. Now he was being mean and saying he wasn’t. Was he embarrassed? Was it because I was black and he was white?

I frowned and pressed myself closer to Jorge.

“You’re right,” I said. “You’re not my brother. You’re nothing.”

This seemed to really please Jorge. He grabbed my face a little too roughly, pulling my eyes away from Emmet’s flaming eyes, and put his wet, alcohol stained lips against mine. But it didn’t even last a full two seconds before his head was knocked sideways. I stumbled backward, watching Jorge’s mouth bleed. I looked at Emmet with my mouth gaping open. He had hit Jorge.

Jorge was drunk, but Jorge was still a badass. He stood up straight and glared at Emmet. His hands curled into fists. He drew his arm back and threw a hard punch at Emmet, but since Emmet wasn’t inebriated, he was able to duck out of the way. Unfortunately, the guy behind him wasn’t so lucky and he was the one that got hit. Emmet latched onto my arm and yanked me away just as a brawl broke out. I followed without resistance, stumbling along the way. Emmy wasn’t moving any better than I was.

The louder the fight got in the kitchen, the more people pushed at us in their effort to go join or watch it. Emmy fell down once. I tried to help her up with my one arm, but I was just as fucked up as she was and almost went down with her. I was alarmed. I thought she was going to get trampled there on the floor, but then big arms were around her waist, lifting her off of the floor. Tabitha’s older brother Tack threw his cousin over his shoulder and before I could understand what was happening, Emmet had done the same to me. The guys didn’t put us down until we were at Emmet’s car.

“What part of don’t go to the party didn’t you understand!” he yelled at us as he unlocked the car.

“The ‘don’t go’ part,” I snickered. Adrenaline raced through my body, but I was still very much drunk. Emmet glared at me so hard, I stopped laughing.

“The ‘party’ part?” Emmy asked from the other side of the car. We both started to snicker.

“Your mom is going to kill you,” Tack said to Emmet.

“I didn’t bring them here!”

He pulled open the back door of his car and pointed angrily for me to get in. Tack was a little nicer to Emmy and helped her in. I wanted Tack on my side of the car.

“Get in the damn car, Donya,” Emmet growled.

“Fu-uck you,” I said, swaying, but I got into the car.

Emmet slammed the door shut. He stood outside for a moment, running his hands through his hair and trying to make the steam stop coming out of his ears. I giggled.

When he got in the car, his hair was all messed up.

“Your hair is messed up, pretty boy,” I teased.

He glared at me through the rearview mirror but said nothing.

“You can’t take them home,” Tack said to Emmet. “It’s not that late. Your parents are probably still up.”

Emmet looked at the time on the dashboard. It was a little after ten. He looked in the rearview mirror again, not at me but at something behind me. His eyes widened a little bit.

“We’ll figure it out along the way. The cops are coming.”

He peeled out of his parking space and took off down the road. Emmy and I looked behind us at the approaching cruisers halting in front of Jorge’s house. Fortunately, none of them came after us.

“Aww. I kind of wanted to see Officer Daniels,” Emmy pouted and then smiled. “He’s hot.”

“Shut up,” Emmet snarled from the front seat.

We drove around for a few minutes. The guys tried to come up with some way of getting us home without Sam and Fred being on to us. Emmy and I giggled and laughed and shrieked about things I can’t even remember. Emmet often yelled at us to shut up and we just as often ignored him. Finally, he had an idea. He parked at a 711 and got out to use the payphone.

“I’m thirsty,” I said, running my finger over my dry tongue. I pulled the lock up on my door and practically fell out onto the pavement. I held onto the door laughing hysterically until I felt Tack picking me up.

“Get back in the car,” he said with a little more patience than Emmet has had all night.

“I’m thirsty,” I whined.

“Me, too,” Emmy said from the front of the car.

She had gotten out without my notice. Apparently without Tack’s too, because he said “How the fuck did you get there so fast?”

Emmy stuck out her tongue and walked into the store. Tack leaned me up against the car and looked back at Emmet who was still on the phone talking. Emmet looked towards the store with more steam pouring out of his ears. I laughed again.

“I’m thirsty,” I whined again as I watched Emmy stumbling around inside the store. She was trying to get a Super Big Gulp and failing miserably.

Emmet finally hung up the phone and rushed into the store to get his sister. Tack pushed me back into the car and shut the door. He leaned against the door so that I couldn’t get out, like I couldn’t just climb to the other side.

“Hey,” I said, smacking a hand against the glass. “Tack!”

He looked at me expectantly.

“Emmet stole my first kiss!”

“What?”

“Emmet stole my first kiss!”

He looked confused. I motioned for him to open the door. He opened the door and leaned down to see and hear me better.

“Emmet stole my first kiss,” I said one more time.

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re drunk.”

“No, listen, listen, listen,” I said, waving a hand and swaying in my seat. “Jorge was about to kiss me. His lips were on my lips and Emmet punched him. Gave him a bloody mouth. I didn’t want to kiss a bloody mouth, but then it didn’t’ matter because Emmet got all caveman on me and dragged me out of the party.”

“Uh,” Tack said and scratched his head. “Isn’t Jorge a little old for you? I mean, you’re Tabby’s age.”

I rolled my eyes. “We’re all about the same age,” I said. “You’re not that much older than me. I’ll be fifteen in days. We’re all still in high school. It’s no big deal that he’s a little bit older. What I’m trying to say is you can kiss me instead and make up for my lost kiss.”

Tack looked very uncomfortable. He backed away from me and closed the door.

“Aww,” I whined and rested my head against the cool glass.

After some more random driving around, we drove towards Emmy’s house. Emmet had spoken to Fred and told him that he and Tack ran into me and Emmy at the mall and that they were taking us with them and not to wait up. Sam apparently was already in bed.

The guys helped us get into the house and up the stairs. Emmet’s hand clamped over my mouth so many times, I started to like the taste of his skin. I licked his hand just to be bratty and then giggled at the faces he made. We were deposited into Emmy’s room. We both crashed onto the bed, giggling.

“I’m taking Tack home,” Emmet whispered. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t. Leave. This. Room.”

“Whatever, Kiss Ruiner,” I yawned.

After one more warning, the guys left. Emmy and I lay on her bed laughing about nonsense for a little while. Then we were both pretty quiet.

“I feel sick,” she said.

“I think I’m going to hurl,” I said and clumsily rolled out of the bed. I stumbled over my own feet and fell to the floor a few feet away from the bathroom. I crawled the rest of the way and made it to the toilet just in time. I puked Aftershock and meatloaf and mashed potatoes and string beans until I thought my head would cave in.

With much effort, I pulled myself to my feet and grabbed the toothbrush I kept at Emmy’s. I brushed and rinsed and brushed and rinsed until I could only taste the mouthwash and toothpaste. My head was beginning to pound and everything seemed off kilter. I slowly sloshed into the bedroom and found that Emmy was out cold and stretched diagonally across the bed, leaving no room for me. I tried to wake her, but she just groaned.

I felt like crap. My head felt like it was going to explode and my stomach was still churning even though there was nothing left to puke up. My face was a little sweaty, but I was shivering uncontrollably. I thought I was dying. If this was what it was like to be drunk, I vowed to never drink again.

I stumbled into the hallway and closed Emmy’s door as quietly as possible behind me. It was still a slam to my sensitive head. I put my hands on my head and dropped to my knees. I was going to go sleep in Lucy’s old room, but I wasn’t going to make it. It was all the way down the hall, and even though it was seriously only a few feet, it looked like a few miles.

I lay down in the middle of the hallway floor and waited to die.

*~*~*

“Hey,” Emmet’s voice was close to me.

I forced my eyes to flutter open and found him kneeling beside me.

“What are you doing on the floor out here?” he whispered. “I told you to stay in the bedroom.”

“I puked,” I murmured and rubbed a hand over my aching head. “When I came out of the bathroom, Emmy was sleeping funny on the bed. There wasn’t any room for me.”

“So, you were going to just sleep on the hallway floor?” he questioned.

“No, dumbass,” I growled. It hurt my head. “I want to go into Lucille’s room.”

“Unbelievable,” he said under his breath. Then his arms were under me and he was carrying me down the hall.

It was only a short trip, but I curled up close to him anyway. I was freezing and he was warm even though he had just come out of the cold. As he pushed open the door to Lucille’s room, he gazed down at me with frustration, anger, and something else I couldn’t put my finger on.

Emmet carefully put me on my feet and made quick work pulling the blankets back on the bed. Then he steered me to the bed and made me sit down. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the spinning room. I felt Emmet pulling my shoes off of my feet and I thought how weird it was that he was pulling my shoes off. When I felt his hand on my cheek, I opened my eyes.

“I told you not to go to that party,” he said softly.

His hair had fallen across his eyes. It was a little too long, but I always liked it like that, even when we were younger I liked his longish hair.

I smiled and pushed his hair out of his eyes with my fingers. I pushed my hand through it and gasped. His hair was soft, but a little thick. It felt right between my fingers and under the palm of my hand.

Emmet’s eyes closed, and for a very short time, we stayed just like that – his hand on my cheek, my hand in his hair, his eyes closed and mine wide open. Then the moment ended.

Emmet opened his eyes and pulled his hand back as if it burned him to touch me. He stood up, his hair out of my reach, and then he took a step back. He closed his eyes again, pinched the bridge of his nose, and then opened his eyes once more.

“I need to check on Emmy,” he said, not looking directly at me. “Lie down and try to sleep.”

“You stole my first kiss,” I told him quietly.

The room was still spinning, more now than before. My heart beat uselessly in my chest, like it was dying. I carefully swung my legs into the bed and laid down.

“That isn’t the kind of first kiss you want, Donya,” he said, studying me through angry eyes.

“What kind of first kiss do I want, Mr. Know-It-All?” I challenged.

“Jorge would have kissed you and he wouldn’t have stopped there,” Emmet said bitterly. “He would have convinced you to follow him upstairs and he would have done all kinds of things to you that you don’t need to know about at fourteen years old.”

“You talk to me as if I am so much younger than you,” I snapped quietly. “You’re not that much older than me, Emmet. Girls my age date guys your age.”

“Doesn’t make it right, and it doesn’t mean they’re…having sex.”

“It’s high school, Emmet. We’re all still kids. It’s not like I was in middle school kissing a senior. I’m a freshman.”

“And you think you know so much,” he said darkly.

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