Unfinished Business

26

THAT NIGHT

After graduation, I originally planned on just going home for the night. I didn't feel like celebrating when I was leaving tomorrow morning. It was a rash decision to leave so soon, but I want to spend my summer in the city to get used to it before the semester starts, and my father didn't have a problem taking the time off of work to drive me up.

Without Wyatt, life is lonely. Sure, he's still friendly with me and we spoke during the classes we shared, but we didn't have any more trips to his farm. I haven't seen Dolly in over a month, and the loss of riding without her hits harder than expected. The freeness I felt with her... The sense of peace is just...gone.

I've contemplated for weeks now if I made the right decision, but if I don't go, if I stay here with Wyatt, I know I'll always wonder what if. Losing Wyatt feels like my heart has split directly into two, but the odds of finding my soulmate so early on in life are slim to none. First love always hurts the most. I just have to suck it up and shove away all of this pain that still hits me like a brick wall each time I see his face.

Maybe that's why I decided to come to this party Dylan wanted to throw. His parents are the type to not give a fuck what he does. They even provided the beer sitting in coolers out in the yard and the kitchen. When you live in a small town, this is just a normal thing to do. Kids start drinking beer as soon as they're a teenager.

Dylan knew I was lonely from the breakup, and he assured me Wyatt had decided not to come. Mixing liquor and my ex wouldn't be smart, but since he's not coming, drowning my emotions in liquor sounds good. More than good.

I climb up the small front porch to the small two-story home, grabbing a beer on my way in. Country music is blaring from a boombox in the corner of the living room, and faces I've seen once or twice in the halls at school are littered on the surrounding couches and beer pong table in the center of the room.

Dylan's family isn't wealthy by any means, not like Wyatt's, but his house is nice and cozy and the perfect environment for me to get trashed in aside from the stale scent of cigarettes. 

"Macey Taylor!" Dylan's voice carries into the living room from the kitchen. He eyes the beer in my hand and sends me a thumbs-up. "Damn, I never thought I'd see you drink! This might just be your official introductory night to Darlington."

Timmy is beside him double-fisted, a beer in each hand, and his stomach is poking out underneath the t-shirt he's wearing as he lets out a belch. "She's just gettin' accepted here and decides to leave us and break our friend's heart." The tone of his voice is bitter, causing me to grimace.

Dylan shrugs and takes another sip of his beer. "She'll be back. Nobody leaves Darlington and never returns."

"Can we not discuss the whole leaving thing? I came to get drunk, so get me drunk."

Dylan's lips twitch, threatening a smile. He reaches below the island into a cabinet and retrieves a large bottle of brown liquid. When he grabs a plastic cup, he begins to fill it just as Parker strides into the room. He eyes the cup Dylan's pouring, and when Dylan uses two fingers to slide it across the island to me, Parker grabs it out of my grasp and shakes his head. "No way," he says. "You don't need to be drinking liquor tonight."

Why is he always so damn protective over me? Whenever Timmy or Dylan made fun of my hair or my style, he'd be right there to shut them down, and although it may be taken as a kind gesture to others, it's insulting to me. I can handle myself.

Taking two large, confident steps, I grab the cup back from him and bring it to my lips, eyeing him over the rim with a look of defiance. He watches as I take the first sip, and when I continue drinking it, when I don't stop, he rolls his eyes, realizing he just made the situation worse. I don't care if my throat is on fire. I don't care that it tastes disgusting. I take the cup of liquor straight to the face.