Out of My League - Sarah Sutton Page 0,7
go to him.
“Thanks for coming with me,” Edith said, reaching over and patting my knee. She pulled her seat all the way up to the steering wheel, her legs stretched straight to reach the pedals. “You know I feel a lot more confident with you around. Too bad we’re not one person.”
“What are friends for?” I returned with a smile, gazing out the passenger’s side window.
Trees and foliage surrounded Walsh’s long driveway, bright and alive, the colors of summer clinging to the leaves. The setting sun sifted through the tree limbs, orange rays filtering through the branches. It wouldn’t be long until darkness won out.
Edith, bracelets jingling, twisted the steering wheel around the last bend of the driveway, letting out a whistle as the trees parted and exposed the house.
And I seriously had to redefine my idea of what a house was because this giant fortress was no house. With the mix of gray siding and a sandy-colored brick, it almost looked like something from a fairytale, set on a steep, grassy hill. It glowed like a giant jack-o-lantern, each window lit from the inside. Jeez, I didn’t even want to know what the electric bill looked like.
The parties that Edith and I went to were usually thrown by Zach or a guy in Greenville, and their houses, though not tiny, were nothing compared to this. Walsh had never hosted a party before, but given how massive his property was, he totally should’ve.
And, okay, did Walsh live in Bayview or some other world entirely? I never even knew there was a corner of Bayview that looked like this.
I slouched in my seat, glaring at the structure. “You didn’t tell me Walsh lived in a freaking castle.”
“Why do you think I’d know what his house looks like?”
“You know everything.”
She seemed satisfied with my response. “I knew he lived on the edge of the higher-end part of town, not like this.”
Oh, not in the middle of the forest in a castle with bay access in the back. I could see the dark water beyond the edges of his house. It was like someone took a slice of every perfect view and gifted it to him.
Perfect, perfect, perfect.
Edith eased behind a shiny SUV, getting as close as she possibly could without kissing the bumper.
“So do we want to split up when we go in?” I asked Edith as I undid my seatbelt, shrugging on my game face. “I’ll find Scott, you find a cute boy, and we’ll meet up in a bit?”
She started picking at her cuticles, eyeing the house. “Someone from school said something about a volleyball net being set up in the backyard. That’d be great for me to practice.”
“As if you need practice,” I snorted. “You’re the best one on the volleyball team.”
And she was, even if she wasn’t totally confident in it. I always loved telling her that she was the best and the shortest, which was a feat in and of itself. Edith’s been on the volleyball team her entire high school career. I would know, of course. I’d been the one who’d gone to every game of hers, with homemade signs that said, to some effect, “My Best Friend Can Bump It.”
Pretty cringe-inducing, sure. Writing articles was my forte; I wasn’t at all artistic.
But her confidence had been shaken since last season, and I held back from saying “you’re going to get on the team” because I knew it would only make her more nervous. No way she’d be cut from the team her senior year.
“Are you going to do it?” Edith asked, glancing my way. “Finally break up with Scott?”
“That would be horrible if I did it at a party,” I said, knowing that was the coward in me showing. I looked at the house looming before us, hand hesitant on the car door. “And besides, I need his help for my article.”
“So, you’re going to prolong your crappy relationship just to use him for information?”
Well, when she put it that way, it sounded horrible. “That’s kind of messed up of me, isn’t it?”
Edith lifted a shoulder, unbuckling her seatbelt. “After everything he’s put you through, he deserves it.”
Now that the hum of the car shut off, the music filtered, muffled, into the sedan. Butterflies worked their way into a fervor in my stomach. Even though I deemed myself a journalist, I wasn’t a people-person. I didn’t mind being around them, but I was totally content to stay at home with my Persian cat, Shiba.
But Shiba