Chasing Spring

“Yeah Calloway,” Duncan added. “You really came into your own since you left.”

His dark gaze had a way of making my skin crawl.

I shifted my gaze to Trent and took him in. A tattered t-shirt covered his thin build and his jet-black hair hung low over his forehead, purposely disheveled. He flashed me a crooked smile and his dark eyes held mine.

“Where's Ashley?” he asked with an arched brow, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently.

I shrugged. “She was supposed to head out right after me.”

Duncan rubbed his hands together greedily. “She better bring the Molly with her. I hooked up with Sasha last week and I can’t face her unless I get fucked up.”

I ignored him and turned to stare out the window. I chewed on the inside of my cheek and found myself wishing I was with another group of people—or better yet, at home reading with Harvey.

A few minutes later, Ashley finally fell into the backseat with two water bottles in her hands.

“Sorry, I had to raid my parent's liquor cabinet. Sasha always runs out,” she said, shaking the water bottles, which I then realized were full of vodka, not water.

“Nice,” Duncan complimented, grabbing one of the bottles and taking a swig.

Trent met my eyes in his review mirror and gave me a small smile. I shrugged and smiled back, praying he'd be an ally. If Duncan and Ashley were both drunk and high, they'd be a handful.

Sasha Olsen was a junior at our school with very rich, very neglectful parents. They left her every few months to jet off to some exotic location, and she used the opportunity to throw parties at their ranch out on the edge of town. Trent explained that she’d stepped up her game even more while I’d been away. There was usually a bonfire and a few kegs, and unlike other parties around our town, Sasha's parties weren't exclusive to one clique. Everyone at our school was welcome.

When we pulled up along the line of cars that were parked outside of her ranch, I knew the party was going to be huge. There was nearly a quarter mile of cars leading up to the front drive. The four of us started the trek up to her house, passing tipsy teenagers as we went.

Trent fell into place next to me, skimming his hand along the bare skin between my shirt and my skirt. His touch was warm, but it reminded me of Chase. Why? Why? Why was he suddenly so impossible to forget? I tried to push him out of my mind, but I knew he'd be at the party.

The music from the house grew louder as we made our way up the cobblestone path. Trent kept me tucked close to his side as he greeted people we passed.

“What's up?” I asked, glancing down to his hand clamped around my waist.

He flashed me a confident grin. “You just look so good, I don't want you getting swooped up by another guy.”

I hadn't been expecting such an honest answer from him and for some reason it didn't sit well with me. I didn't want to date Trent, I hardly knew him, but giving in was easier than fighting him, and pissing him off would mean I had no ride home.

We stepped inside and he bent down to whisper in my ear.

“You want a drink?”

In that moment I glanced across the room and made eye contact with Chase leaning against the kitchen counter. He was surrounded by friends, but his hazel eyes were on me and his brows were cocked in question.

My first instinct was to shove Trent so far away from me that he'd never come back, but I just stood there, completely still, waiting for life to continue as planned. It felt like we hung there staring at each other for hours, until finally Kimberly nudged Chase's side and pressed up onto her tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

Seeing her there felt like a punch to the gut and I had to fight the urge to bend forward and grip my knees until the sensation passed. I counted to three. One. Chase and I used to be friends but we aren't any more. Two. Kimberly was there for him when I couldn’t be. Three. I'm here with Trent and he's here with her. Done.

“Did you hear me Lilah? Do you want a drink?” Trent asked again.

I shook my head. “Want to go out back?” I asked, turning toward our small band of misfits.

Ashley and Duncan were taking turns sipping from the vodka water bottles. They'd be completely wasted in thirty minutes or less.

“You should get some water, Ashley.”

“Thank you, mother, but I'll be fine.” She rolled her eyes and turned toward Duncan so he could sweep her up into a sloppy kiss. I wanted to throttle the pair of them, but I swallowed past my annoyance just as a hand touched my shoulder. It was too strong and too familiar to be Trent's.

“Lil, can we talk for a second?”

I turned around to see Chase standing beside Trent, towering over him by a few inches. I hated seeing them standing so close together. It was impossible not to compare them and I knew Trent would never stack up. Chase might have been more handsome with his classic golden boy looks, but it wasn’t about that. Chase was my childhood, my memories, and my happiness—things I worried I’d never get back.