“I think I’ll come in and say hi to Mr. O’Toole. We’re supposed to be playing golf at the club tomorrow, and I want to confirm the time with him.”
“Ugh, Dad!” I know this is useless and he’s going to come inside with me anyway. He’s done this as long as I can remember, and I secretly like it. But since I’m a teenager, I need to give him a hard time whenever I can.
We get out of the car and walk into the grand foyer of the O’Toole’s house.
“Benjamin! So great to see you,” Mr. O’Toole’s voice booms. “Are you ready for the tournament tomorrow?”
“Of course I am. But if I remember correctly, you weren’t quite up to par the last time we played.”
Mr. O’Toole laughs at my dad’s pun and they walk toward his den.
“Have fun tonight, Sam.” Dad pulls me in for a hug. “Watch yourself in those shoes, please.”
“Don’t worry.” I smile confidently and walk, very deliberately, toward the back of the house. I certainly don’t need to fall flat on my face, proving my father right. “Love you, Dad!” I call out before he’s out of sight.
I step onto the vast patio and see the party in full swing down by the pool house.
“Sammy!” Cassie shrieks and comes running up the lawn. “You’re here!”
I laugh as I walk slowly to meet her. “Take those shoes off this instant,” she scolds me and grabs my hand. “You look ah-mazing!”
“Thanks, Cass.”
“Your hair is so perfect tonight. What did you do to it?”
“I just added a little bit more shaping cream and let it air-dry longer than usual.”
“Brad better notice me tonight. You better not catch his eye!” She giggles and I know she’s totally kidding. I’ve seen Brad ogling her more than once, so I know she’s on his radar.
We reach the pool house and Trish runs to greet us. “Sam! So great you could come. My dad has been talking about playing golf with your dad all week.”
“Yeah, they’re up at the house right now strategizing.” I smirk and she hands me a drink.
“Shhh,” she says. “It’s just lemonade with a teeny tiny splash of citrus vodka.” She winks and I take the cup hesitantly.
“Your parents are here, Trish. You better not let this party get out of hand,” I say to her sternly, and she giggles out loud.
“Seriously, Sam. Lighten up.” She turns to the crowd around the pool and signals to the DJ to crank up the music. The three of us dance our way across the patio and I kick off my shoes. Just in case.
I take a sip of the drink Trish gave me and practically gag. I drop the cup in the first trash bin I can find. I’m no prude, but I know better than to drink something Trish O’Toole has made for me. Teeny tiny equals mostly vodka.
The night flies by and most of it I’m consoling Cassie. “I can’t believe he didn’t come,” she slurs and attempts to take another drink of Trish’s electric lemonade.
“That’s enough, my love.” I laugh and replace the cup with a bottle of water.
She squints and peers across the lawn. “Brad! Over here!” she says and waves her hands in the air. I look toward the patio and see Brad and his older brother.
“Ugh,” she says. “What the hell is Todd doing with him? Isn’t he like a senior in college or something? What a perv coming to a high school party.” She smiles through her teeth as Brad and Todd join us near the pool.
“Hey,” Brad says to Cassie. He smiles quickly at me but then fixes his gaze back on her.
“Hi, Brad. I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” she says unconvincingly.
“Yeah.”
Todd Mitchell strolls toward me and drapes his heavy arm over my shoulder.
“I’m Todd. You’re hot.”