Page 26 of Fourth Wheel
“Lucky Lucy if you’re leaving with a guy. Rodger Dodger if we need to leave ASAP, no questions asked,” I remind her.
“I hope Lucky Lucy is on both our sides tonight. Okay, let’s go!” She opens the car door before I have a chance to reply.
I blow out a breath and follow, circling the car to join her where the guys are waiting. Before I’ve even opened my mouth to say hi, Travis throws his arm around me and pulls me into an awkward side hug.
“Hey, Maddie,” he whispers against my hair as I spin out of his embrace.
“Hey,” I mutter, sticking both hands on my hips to ward off any additional affection.
“Sup, ladies,” Kyle says with a smirk. “You look good, Paige,” he adds, crossing his arms over his Nike T-shirt as he gives my best friend this sort of smarmy perusal. The dude didn’t even make eye contact with her when he spoke. Twenty-year-old boys really are just out here doing the least.
“You look hot as fuck,” Travis whispers in my ear, jolting me back to the moment.
I didn’t realize he’d inched closer until he was right up on me. We haven’t even walked into the party, and I’m ready to Rodger Dodger everyone’s ass and call it a night.
But I won’t do that to Paige. I agreed to come to this party for her, so now I have to see it through. I can suck it up and fend off Travis’s lame attempts at flirting if it means my best friend has a good time. Lord knows she’d do the same for me.
“Are we gonna party or just stand in the street chit chatting?” I tease, linking arms with Paige and starting the trek past the line of parked cars.
“Lead the way, ladies,” Kyle announces with a flourish, his arm extended toward the house.
Paige giggles, and I don’t have the heart to tell her he’s not being charming or chivalrous; he’s probably about to Snapchat a picture of our asses to lord knows who.
Whatever. My ass looks really fucking good in these white jeans.
Snap your heart out, Bare Minimum Boy.
I’m regretting my choice of footwear by the time we reach the long-ass driveway that leads to the main house. Four-inch wedges may look good, but they are not meant for long-distance treks. Truth be told, I only wore them because they make me a solid inch taller than Travis. I’m five foot seven on flat feet. And although I’ve heard Travis say he’s six feet tall on more than one occasion, the guy’s pushing five-ten on tiptoes.
Not that I have anything against short guys. I just don’t particularly care for a little man with an overcompensating ego. If you’re average, own it.
We don’t bother knocking when we reach the front door. Instead, we walk into the house and are instantly hit with booming bass and the stink of weed. We pass a formal living room that’s been taped off with yellow caution tape—clever, really—and head for the commotion in the kitchen.
There are two separate beer pong games going, one on the eat-in kitchen table, the other on the kitchen island. I make a beeline for the drinks lined up near the sink and pour myself a vodka lemonade before the others even make their way over.
“That’s my girl!” Travis praises as I glare at him over the rim of my upturned glass. “Let’s get this party started!”
I lean against the counter as I watch my friends make their own drinks. Kyle’s already got an arm slung around Paige, and he’s just said something that has her giggling.
Good. At least this night won’t be in vain.
I glance around, surveying the crowd to see how many of these people I actually know. There are a few familiar faces from high school, but most of the people in the kitchen are strangers.
They’re strangers. And yet they’re all so familiar and predictable.
Any combination of these types of people in this type of setting would turn me off right now. It’s not them—it’s me.
I don’t know when parties like this stopped being fun and started to feel like a chore. But as I glance around the crowded kitchen, the smell of weed mingling with expensive aftershave and the sticky sweetness of spiked punch, I can’t fathom anywhere on planet earth I’d rather be less.
Travis perches next to me and takes a long sip from his cup before speaking. “You want to go check out what’s happening in the barn?”
I already know what’s happening out in the barn: girls are grinding up on each other on the dance floor, vying for attention, while other people light up in the loft. But I don’t have anything else to do. And this kitchen really is crowded.
“Why not?” I shrug, resisting the urge to roll my eyes when Travis smirks and looks obnoxiously proud. Yeah. No. My willingness to check out the barn has nothing to do with him, and everything to do with my desire to be anywhere but here.
I scan the room and spot Paige and Kyle waiting for next game at one of the beer pong tables. Paige and I make eye contact, and I point toward the door so she knows where I’m headed. She gives me big eyes and an excited grin before schooling her expression and turning back to listen to whatever Kyle’s droning on about. Probably crypto. Or a podcast he listened to this week, which now makes him a certifiable expert in whatever subject they covered.
Travis leads the way out the sliding glass door and onto a deck that’s just as crowded as the kitchen. At least it’s cooler out here. I grab a water bottle from an open cooler, then I follow him down the stairs toward the back of the property.
