Page 96 of Habits

Not really.

She has never been mine, and she never will be.

I want to tell him I didn’t do anything, but that would be a lie.

In all the months since the Sanders twins came to Greyford, I’ve seen them at a bunch of parties at my house, yet I’ve never seen Jeanette so drunk. Maybe it’s presumptuous of me to think I'm the reason behind her sudden stripper behavior, but there is no other explanation. Not after everything that happened on Christmas Eve and her not returning even one of my texts after that. Not one.

Even through the loud music and chatter, you can hear the whistles coming from the living room. Hoots and hollers that make my blood boil. Make me so irrationally angry I’m barely holding on to my sanity. My hands are clenched into fists by my sides, ready to swing and break some skin and bones.

You have no right.

The need to get my hands around her waist, pull her down and hide her where nobody would be able to see her is strong, but I rein it in. Jeanette wouldn’t appreciate it, and I didn’t want to make a scene. Not with Jeanette drunk and Max close by and still watchful.

You’re the one who threw her away.

Thankfully, Max is there in a heartbeat, pushing through the crowd like a man on a mission. He stops in front of the bar and tries to reason with Jeanette, while at the same time telling the gathered crowd to fuck off. But of course Jeanette doesn’t listen.

She and Brook keep dancing, wiggling their asses and bursting into fits of giggles when they sing the wrong lyrics. Another turn results in an almost slip, not that you can expect anything more from a drunk girl trying to dance in high heels on the bar. Just when I’m done with it and take a step to get her down, Max wraps his hands around Jeanette’s waist and pulls her to the floor.

“We’re going home,” he grits through his teeth.

Anger radiates off of him in waves, but he’s trying to stay calm.

Brook starts to climb down, and she’d fall on her ass just like Jeanette if Max hadn’t caught her and put her down.

“Buuuuut, Max!” Jeanette’s protest is followed by a giggle. “I’m having fun!”

Irritating, annoying, drunken giggle.

“Home. Now.”

Max picks her up again and throws her over his shoulder. He’s holding on to thin strings of sanity that will burst soon and then all hell will break loose.

I open my mouth to call after him, but Max is already taking her away. Not that I know what to say. I went to him to take care of her, and he’s doing just that, so what now?

Jeanette starts pounding at his back, but there is no real force behind her punches.

“Brooooook! Save me, will ya? We can have another drink, and then we can go back to dancing.”

“I’m sorry, girl.” Brook stumbles behind them.

Max gives her a stern look over his shoulder. “You should be sorry! It’s all your fault!”

“My fault?” Brook shoots him a death glare, her cheeks turning pink in anger. “She’s old enough to know how much she can drink. Besides, she had a shitty evening.” Her eyes turn to look at me accusingly. “Can’t blame a girl for having one too many.”

“She had more than just one too many drinks!”

Brook starts to say something, but Jeanette’s slow murmur stops her. “My head is hurting.”

“I know, J. I think it’s time for you to go to bed.”

Jeanette looks at her friend, her nose furrows. “Why are you upside-down?”

“You’re the one who’s upside-down, silly.”

“M-me?” Jeanette hiccups, her face growing pale.

“Yes, you …”

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