Meant To Be (The Callahans #4) - Monica Murphy Page 0,9

and there’s no one I need to hide it from. I have some vodka in the house and, of course, a stash of wine bottles, but none of us want to drink that shit. Jackson promises to bring the beer, and Cory—yes, I invited his pathetic ass, so what—says he’ll bring some whiskey and Coke.

I don’t even need the Coke. I’ll drink that whiskey straight. Fuck it.

I’m gonna get fucked up.

They arrive at my house within the hour, Brenden and Jackson and Cory and a few others. They bring along their favorite party favors—blunts and booze and snacks. We congregate outside by the pool, though it’s cooler today. If anyone’s jumping in the water, it’s either because someone dared them to, or they get so drunk they don’t care how cold it is.

That’ll probably end up being me later tonight. Too drunk to care.

“What the hell happened to your face?” Jackson asks me, after we’ve all settled in at the table with the giant blue umbrella.

I send him a death glare. “It ran into someone’s fist.”

“You’ve been fighting a lot,” Brenden says, sounding like he’s my dad.

“You included,” Jackson reminds him, which makes Brenden seal his lips shut.

“I got into a fight with Callahan last night,” I say, deciding I may as well lay it all out.

“No shit?” Jackson lifts his brows. “Who won?”

“It was a tie.” And I lost the girl, so I guess I’m the silent loser.

“Uh huh.” Jackson smiles. Tips his beer bottle to his lips and takes a loud swallow.

Smug fucker.

I need to change the subject.

“You break up with Kayla?” I ask Brenden.

Brenden takes a hit off the blunt before he passes it to me, tilting his head back and exhaling a stream of smoke. “Nope.”

“What? You chicken motherfucker.” I lean over and slap his arm, making him glare at me as he rubs the spot where I hit him. “You said you were going to do it. When I left the party last night, you told me you were about to let her down easy.”

“Yeah well.” His cheeks turn crimson and he looks down at his lap, where I swear to God, it looks like he’s twiddling his thumbs. “We, uh, never got around to talking much last night.”

“They fucked,” Cory adds, who I guess is eavesdropping on our conversation.

“No shit,” I mumble with the blunt between my lips.

“Big mistake,” Jackson mutters at the same time.

Brenden glares at the both of us. “What, is it so impossible to think a girl would want to have sex with me?”

I pluck the blunt from my mouth. “I never said that,” I start and Jackson just laughs.

“It has nothing to do with your sex appeal and everything to do with the fact that you just had sex with a complete psycho,” Jackson explains, his tone dead serious. “That chick is toxic. She’s trying to change your entire life. And now that you’ve come inside her? Forget it. You’re dunzo.”

I send Brenden a sympathetic look, but say nothing. Pretty sure the only other time he had sex was with some chick our junior year who was a sophomore. A transfer student who showed up halfway through the year. He befriended her, not to get in her panties—that’s more my shitty style—but because he’s an actual nice person. Things happened and they eventually did it.

Then she transferred out again. And he was devastated. That girl was the only distraction he ever had from his undying lust for Kayla.

“They don’t change just because you have sex with them,” I tell Brenden, my voice low. Jackson and Cory are having their own conversation about girls and sex. I’m sure Cory has zero experience there. A few other guys wander into my backyard and Jackson gets up to greet them like he’s the host of this party. Which is fine by me. I’m not in the mood. “She’ll still be the same person she was before you dipped your wick in her wax.”

Brenden makes a face. “Dipped my wick in her wax? Where do you come up with this shit?”

I shrug. “What can I say? I should be a songwriter.”

“Sure. You’re a regular fucking poet.” Brenden grabs the whiskey bottle Cory left on the table and takes a swig straight from it, instead of being a classy motherfucker and pouring himself a glass. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before he says, “It wasn’t even that good. She just sort of…laid there the whole time. Didn’t do much. Said