Page 2 of The Mistakes You Make
I pull my leather jacket around my torso a little tighter as I catch up with Harley on the sidewalk.
“Ready to party, lil’ sis?”
She glances over at me, concern still evident in her eyes, but she forces it down and plasters a smile on her face. She’s sixteen now, most would probably say too young for the kind of debauchery happening under the roof of the house in front of us. But we’re Creek kids. We grew up surrounded by this. She’s already seen worse than what might be happening here tonight. Hell, I was up to all sorts of shit I don’t want to even consider Harley getting involved with when I was sixteen.
Shaking my regrets from my head, I take her hand in mine and together we make our way through the crowds to find Skylar and my old group of friends.
Music booms from the speakers someone has set up in the living room, making the floor rattle as we make our way through the kitchen.
“Here,” I say, handing Harley a Solo cup with a weak vodka orange inside. Mine, however, isn’t so weak. The prospect of bumping into the enemy forces me to splash a little extra alcohol in mine to help take the edge off my nerves.
I drink half down in one go, reveling in the burn as the vodka slips down my throat and begins to warm my belly.
My muscles ache to join the crowd that I know will be in front of the speakers and let go.
College is great. New York is fantastic but still, you can’t beat a Creek party.
“Come on, I know where they’ll be.” I take Harley’s hand once more and we push our way through the mass of people toward the living room.
Most pay us little attention as we pass, but a few recognize us and nod or smile in greeting.
There would have been a time when everyone would have spoken to us, but we gave up that right when we packed all our shit and moved.
We’re outsiders now, and I feel it more and more every time I come back here.
I see a flash of blonde on the other side of the living area that’s been turned into a makeshift dance floor for the night, and I head that way.
“Letty,” Skylar squeals the second she sees me, she steps away from the guy she’s dancing with and throws her arms around my shoulders. “It’s so good to see you.” The slur in her voice indicates just how much she’s had to drink already, and when she pulls back, I notice her eyes are blown too.
“You too, Sky. It’s been too long. Happy Birthday.”
“Come on, let me introduce you to the guys.” She threads her fingers through mine and drags me toward her group of friends. Most I know from school but there are a couple of new additions, including the guy who quickly drags her away from me and wraps her in his arms.
Jealousy burns through me at the way he stares down at her. So much love and adoration it makes my chest hurt.
“This is Matt,” she says, happiness laced through her voice.
I know all about him. When we’ve spoken recently, he’s all she talks about.
Hearing how happy she is back here is about the only thing that makes me homesick. Not for Harrow Creek, but for those I love.
“Sky says you’re at Columbia. Impressive.”
“T-thanks,” I stutter. “It’s pretty awesome.”
Going to college—especially a college like Columbia—makes me an anomaly around those I grew up with. Only a few from the Creek get a shot at college, most don’t even graduate. And if they do, it’s more likely they’ll end up at Harrow Community College, where Sky and Matt are. A few lucky ones get out, I know of a handful who are at Maddison Kings—the closest college to the Creek—but that’s got more to do with connections than it has to do with ability.
“Being back here must suck after New York,” Sky mutters.
“Nah, it’s home.”
Truth? This place is hell. If it weren’t for Dad or the few friends I still have from here, then I’d never return.
The whole place is depressing.
“How’s college?”
“Yeah, it’s good. It’s Harrow College, doesn’t get better than that,” she jokes.
