Page 51 of Redemption
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“Come on, Mallorie Jade. You’re going to get us caught,” Langston says, tipping a bottle of vodka up against his lips.
I hate when he calls me that. He sounds like our parents, but I’m not about to open my mouth now. Not when it’s his night to celebrate. The drinking worries me, though. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him drink before. He treats his body like a temple,only putting things in it that will fuel it for football. Plus, he takes the rules seriously, so this is out of character for him.
“I’m coming. I’m coming,” I say, struggling to lift myself over the fence that Langston easily jumped over. Strong hands wrap around my waist and lift me, making it easier to get over. Once my feet are on solid ground, I turn to Hayes and mouth, “Thank you.”
He merely nods and makes the jump so he’s on the same side as us.
My heart pitter-patters as his arm brushes against mine. I should not have this reaction to him. It’s not good for my health. He’s leaving for college, and I’m staying behind.
“Are you guys coming or what?” Langston asks, annoyance filtering his voice. He’s halfway across the football field, walking backward as he watches us.
Hayes shakes his head. “What’s gotten into him?”
I shrug, pretending I don’t know, but I do. Langston doesn’t want this life, but he’ll never admit that aloud—not even to his best friend.
“Come on,” Hayes says, grabbing my hand and pulling me behind him. “Let’s go save him from himself.”
The locker rooms are on the other side of the football field. Langston is waiting for us there. His eyes drop to where Hayes’s hand is wrapped around mine. He doesn’t say anything but pinches his lips tightly together. I pull my hand from Hayes’s like my skin is on fire.
Langston clears his throat, takes another drink of the drink in his hand, and takes his backpack off his back.
“Are you guys ready to have some fun?” Langston asks, a sneaky grin on his face.
“I don’t know, L,” Hayes says, looking around. “Are we even supposed to be here? We could get in trouble. Maybe you can afford that, but I can’t.”
“Nah. We’ll be fine. We aren’t doing anything wrong—well, besides the drink,” he says, his grin turning goofy. His words are starting to slur, and it’s clear he’s starting to feel the effects of the drink. Neither Hayes nor I have taken a drink, and the bottle is already halfway empty. He had to have started on it well before we got here. “Here, take this.”
Langston shoves the bottle at me, tipping it, and some of the liquid spills on my clothes.
“What the heck, man?” Hayes says, glaring at Langston. He moves closer to me, and his hand comes up, brushing the liquid off my collarbone. The movement sends a shiver down my spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps along my skin.
“Sorry, MJ,” Langston says, looking a little sheepish.
Hayes’s hand is still brushing along the line where my shirt meets my neck, making it impossible to speak, so I swallow and give him a stiff nod.
“Okay, check it out.” Langston starts pulling out several things from his backpack: a funnel, balloons, paint—all while blissfully unaware of the tension thrumming through the air between Hayes and me.
Clearing my throat, I step forward towards Langston, trying to put some distance between Hayes and me before I spontaneously combust, but as I do, he lets his fingers trail down my arm to meet mine before slowly removing his hand completely.
“What are we going to do with that?” I ask, holding a balloon between my fingers.
“We have fun.”
It’s the spark in Langston’s eyes that has me giving in to everything we do next.
He takes the balloon from my hand, stretches the funnel around it, and fills it with paint before tying it off. Then, he repeats the process until a pile of paint-filled balloons is lyingon the turf. Then he stands, and with a smile that reminds me of the brother I had before all the pressure started to drown him, he says, “Who’s ready for a war?”
I can’t lie. It sounds fun and unlike anything my brother usually gets up to, but I’m worried about the trouble we are about to get into—not for me, but for Hayes, who doesn’t say anything to Langston’s question.
If Langston and I get in trouble, our parents will bail us out, but for Hayes, it might not be that easy.
“I don’t know,” I say, looking down at the balloons and then back at Langston. “Won’t this stain the field?”
“Nah,” he says, picking up a balloon and weighing it in his hand. “It’s supposed to rain tonight. I checked the weather. It will erase any evidence that we were here. So—what do you say?”
I look at Hayes, trying to judge his feelings on this. If he’s not up for it, then I won’t be either, no matter how much my brother might try to talk us into it.
