"I was just saying," Jill retorted defensively.
"That's messed up," I shot back. "You don't compare my boyfriend with my mother's. That's so very twisted."
"True," Casey agreed, "but he is―"
I walked away before she could finish. Unfortunately, this wasn't a big enough house to lose them, so I slipped into the bathroom when I saw the door open. This was the first party I'd been to in Weslyn since last May. Apparently, I hadn't missed much.
I looked around for Sara upon exiting the bathroom and found her talking to a tall blond with dark eyebrows in the corner. They were laughing and leaning toward each other, her hand occasionally brushing his arm―all the signature flirting moves.
"That's Neil's cousin," Jill explained from beside me. She had apparently been waiting for me to get out of the bathroom. "He's visiting for the weekend from New Hampshire."
"Oh great," I groaned. This was not going to go over well. And right on cue, Sara's smile faltered. She turned abruptly and stormed out onto the deck. The guy was left dumbstruck, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. The girls giggled next to me, indicating that not only did they witness the ditching, now everyone at the party would know about it as well.
I sighed and followed after Sara.
"Hey."
She continued to pour the beer into her red cup, not looking up.
Before I could find the words to make her feel better, which wasn't something I was used to doing, I heard, "I dare you to jump."
I looked over and a guy with a dark green flannel shirt and a backward baseball hat was standing on the top railing of the deck.
"Is he serious?" I asked Sara. She just let out an amused laugh.
Then he was gone. I rushed to the railing. All I could see was his baseball hat. The rest of him had disappeared into the mountainous snow bank below the deck. He thrust his arms out of the snow and tilted his head back, releasing a guttural holler of triumph. I was stunned to see him emerge in one piece.
That's when the insanity took over. More guys leapt into the snowdrift, yelling and whooping as they leapt off the railing.
I had no interest in watching these guys break their necks, so I went back inside, discovering Sara was already there. I passed Evan as he and a few guys made their way out onto the deck to watch the recklessness. I caught his eye and he brushed his hand along mine. That subtle connection sent a current through my body with a warm shiver.
Sara slammed her red cup down, redirecting my attention. "Let's get out of here."
As we pulled down the street, two police cars drove past with their lights on. I wondered where they were going. Then it hit me that the neighbors must have called them. There weren't acres of land or trees separating the houses on this street, so the noise in the backyard probably carried, disrupting the neighborhood.
I glanced over at Sara to say something about the busted party, but she remained still, staring out the window. I wanted to say something, but I had no idea what to say. Just as I was about to break the silence, she exclaimed, "New Hampshire! He was from fucking New Hampshire!" She clenched her fists. "Are you kidding me?! This is so not funny!"
My mouth dropped open. She continued to rant about how well they got along. He had even asked her to go out this weekend before he finally told her where he lived―indicating that they'd probably never see each other again.
"Sara, you have to tell me what's going on with you," I demanded emphatically. "And don't say 'nothing', because I know there is. It can't just be this guy."
"There's nothing wrong with me," she snapped, practically biting my head off.
"Really?" I countered defensively. "I think there is because you're acting like a bitch."
And just like that the car was silent, and I was filled with remorse. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that," I said as we pulled into the driveway. "I'm just frustrated because I don't understand what's going on."
"I'm fine," she huffed, slamming the car door after her.
A new round of snow started to come down when I stepped out of the car. Perfect. We'd just finished shoveling the last storm. This winter was as miserable as Sara.
I walked up the stairs after Sara, who refused to even look at me. My phone beeped as she shut the bathroom door.
Meet me out front when Sara passes out.
I remained as patient as I could, staying in the bathroom, pacing, while I waited for her to groan herself to sleep. Fifteen minutes later, I slipped out and poked my head into the bedroom to the sound of deep breaths.
I crept down the stairs and out the front door. Evan was sitting on the front steps, snow coating his knit hat. He stood when I stepped out.