Page 12

Story: Hits Different

Chapter 12

Champagne Problems

Three Years Earlier

Brandon

“Senator Greenwood, let me introduce my son”. The instruction hidden within my dad’s pleasantries is unmistakable, even over the steel band. I adjust my smile without missing a beat, and excuse myself from my friends.

“Congratulations on your graduation, Brandon”, Senator Greenwood shakes my hand warmly. “Though I’m surprised you don’t have more exciting plans than spending such a monumental night at a political fundraiser”.

“Brandon knows how lucky he is to be exposed to such influential members of the community”, my mother cuts in smoothly, refilling the Senator’s glass. She’s dressed the part, down to the pearls excised from my grandmother’s vault. “Particularly when he hopes to intern at Winchester and Associates this summer”.

I smile, and subtly check my watch. My parent’s parties usually go into the early hours, and I’ve got plans to meet Parker on the beach. I can make it there and back before anyone notices I’ve gone.

“Is that so? I worked there myself, back in the dark ages”. Senator Greenwood winks at me. “Is law where you see your future, Brandon?”

“Absolutely”, I say, after a beat.

“But?” the Senator prompts.

“I’m not sure that an internship is the right step just now”, I say carefully, not daring to look at my mother. “I have other passions that I’m keen to explore”.

“How intriguing”, Senator Greenwood nods approvingly, “Such as?”

“Soccer”. I spot Parker and Millie talking animatedly in the distance. ”Coach says if I keep working, a professional career is a real possibility”. I trail off at my mother’s icy stare.

“Sounds exciting!” Greenwood exclaims. “And smart to keep your options open, especially at such a crucial age”. I nod, as Millie and Parker’s argument drifts across the lawn.

“Brandon”, My mother smiles through clenched teeth. “Perhaps you could check on your guests?” She catches my arm. “And we’ll discuss this little performance tomorrow”.

By the time I’ve excused myself, Parker and Millie have disappeared. I abandon looking for them and slip quietly into the cellar instead. I know nothing about wine, but I know that I can’t show up to the beach empty handed.

I grab the first two bottles I see, and stash them under my jacket.

“Interesting choice”.

My dad stands in the doorway, eyebrow raised. I freeze.

“Just getting the Mayor’s table some refreshments”, I say brightly. “They asked for something to complement the fish”.

“Remarkable, given that we’re serving chicken. I wasn’t aware that my son was such a connoisseur. Know a lot about wine, do you?”

“I mean, the normal amount , I suppose”. My dad moves past me, scanning the shelves. I stare at the now-vacated doorway. I could make a break for it. I could just run, and never look back.

“These were from the year you were born”, he plucks two bottles of champagne from the shelf. “Far more appropriate than the ones you were about to swipe”. A grin spreads across his face, transforming him from political figure and back into my dad. “Who are you meeting?”

“Some kids from school. Millie. Freddie, probably”.

“Parker?” A familiar note of disapproval.

“I don’t know why you don’t like him”.

“And I don’t know why you do. Listen, Brandon”. He places both hands on my shoulders. “You know there’s nothing you can’t tell me, right?” My throat is suddenly very thick.

He looks like he wants to say something else, but instead he adds, “You’ll get to the beach must faster if you sneak out the staff entrance. Go. Have fun. If your mother finds out, I knew nothing”.

He stands aside to let me pass, but instead, I grab him in a big hug. After a moment, he hugs me back. “I love you, kiddo”.

* * * *

“Truth or dare”.

My heart sinks. I hate this fucking game. Parker is nowhere to be found. He and Millie had a blazing row before I arrived. He’s off somewhere licking his wounds whilst she pouts into her cell phone. Tonight of all nights.

An hour passes. Then another. With midnight approaching, I find myself sitting in a circle with a couple of hockey-bros and Millie’s gang of instigators. Not for the first time in my life, I’ve got that hopeless, misplaced feeling.

The one where I’m surrounded by people but feel completely alone.

“C’mon, Carter”, Leo Houston nudges me. “Truth or dare”.

I’ve texted Parker twice. He’s read both and responded to neither. I bite down the disappointment that strains in my stomach. Maybe it’s for the best.

“Dare”. I mean, come on. What did I think was gonna happen? That he would suddenly see me— really see me—and my world would change? Nah. Those things aren’t for me. I know they’re not.

“Make out with Millie for ten seconds”, Lainey Ellis giggles.

Millie shoots her an irritated look. “Idiot”, she mutters. “He’s Parker’s best friend”.

“That’s why it’s called a dare ”, Lainey pouts, “It wouldn’t be much of a dare if I asked you to make out with Parker, would it? You do it all the time. You spent most of senior year going at it against my locker. Gross, by the way”.

I hate drunk people.

“Fine”, Millie sighs, pulling her hair into a ponytail.

“Do I get a say in this?” I inject levity into my voice. “I don’t want to go to college in an ambulance when Parker finds out I’ve been making out with his girlfriend. No offence, St Clare”.

“None taken, Carter”.

It’s reassuring that Millie’s dislike of me is just as obvious as my dislike of her. It makes me feel like less of an asshole. Even though I don’t think I did anything to warrant it.

Apart from falling in love with her boyfriend. But she doesn’t know that. And now, nobody ever will.

“Just get on with it. Ten seconds. Starting…now!” Zach, a kid from the lacrosse team, yells, with more excitement than the situation warrants.

“Ten seconds would be a record for you, Zach”. Millie smiles sweetly, earning some laughter. “Fine. Screw it”. She turns, and before I know it, we’re full blown making out, right in-front of everyone.

There’s cheers and wolf whistles, when suddenly there’s a huge shout and the sound of breaking glass.

“Whoa! Parker!” someone yells.

Parker? We break apart immediately.

Parker stands ten feet away. He’s holding an empty bottle, and he’s swaying. His hair is plastered to the side of his head, and there’s an expression of white-hot hatred flushed across his face. He’s glaring a hole straight through me.

“You bastard”. His voice is low, dangerous.

“I can explain”. I’ve never seen him look at me like this before. “It’s not what it looks like”.

“No? Because it looks like you’re taking away the one thing that you could never have”. He snarls, his veins straining against his skin. “You couldn’t just let me win, could you? Not once. Life takes it so fucking easy on you, Brandon”.

“Parker, that’s insane”. But before I can say another word, his hands curl into fists and with a roar, he lunges straight at me.