I Wouldn't Change a Thing

I walked determinedly up the sidewalk, stepping over passed out teenagers on the way. I ignored the drunken catcalls and slurred speech aimed my way as I fought my way onto the porch and through the open door. The front room was so packed that I couldn’t see any of the presumably four walls that should be enclosing the room; instead it was a sea of red-faced, dancing teenagers. I nudged and pushed my way across the room, finally coming to an opening.

There was a table in the center of the next room, plastic cups spaced semi-evenly in a triangular shape at each far end. The table was surrounded, half-interested faces watching as a girl raised her arm, tossing a small ball across the table. The ball bounced off the hardwood, hitting a boy’s chest. A giggle escaped the girl’s lips as she covered her mouth with her hand.

“Brooke!” I shouted, instantly recognizing the garble falling from her lips.

“Molly! You made it!” she shouted, her hands raising above her head as she cheered. “Guys, my sister’s here!”

I grabbed one of her wrists, pulling it down to her side. “Let’s go, Brooke.”

“Oh, don’t be a party pooper.” She fell into my side as the slurred words made their way to me, bringing with them the faint stench of alcohol.

“You called me Brooke. Now, let’s get you back to Nan’s,” I reasoned as I pulled her alongside me.

“But I want you to meet someone,” she protested, trying to plant her feet in the carpet. It was no use; she had no fight in her thanks to the amount of alcohol swimming through her system. I didn’t answer as we worked our way down the front steps. I was more focused on keeping my sister upright than her drunken babble.

“Hey, wait up!” a male voice called across the front yard, but I didn’t stop or turn. “You’re Nancy’s granddaughter, right?” he proceeded, the voice growing closer. Soon he was right beside me. “Molly, right?”

“What’s it to you?” I asked, readjusting my hold on my now silent and practically dead weight sister.

“I’m Cole. Johnny and I picked you guys up from the airport,” he offered, waiting to see if I would remember. “Here, let me help.” He ran to the other side of Brooke, wrapping an arm easily around her waist as he supported most of her weight.

“Thanks,” I murmured almost silently.

When we made it across the street, Cole helped me place Brooke in the back seat, letting her pass out lying down. “So,” he started, stuffing his hands in his front pockets once the rear door was closed tightly.

“Thanks, again. I don’t know that I could have gotten her to the car without dropping her.” I brushed a wayward piece of hair out of my eyes as I reached for the door handle.

“No problem. I guess I’ll see you around?”

I smiled half-heartedly. “Tell your friend that my sister really likes him,” I responded, carefully trying to avoid a lie.

The corner of his mouth pulled up, adding a sweetness to the boy’s face. “He’ll love to hear it. Be safe getting home.”

I nodded as I ducked into the Town car. Why did this boy, who I didn’t really even know, suddenly seem intriguing? Why did I think he sort of, kind of, maybe was a tiny bit cute? It must be the hour, I reasoned with myself. At nearly four in the morning, I wasn't functioning on all pistols. I must be seeing things.

“Work with me, Brooke,” I muttered, mostly to myself. Brooke was now awake, though still very much not sober. I slung her arm over my shoulder as I closed the Lincoln’s door as quietly as possible. We stumbled up the walkway, through the door, and halfway up the stairs before we were caught.

“Girls? What is going on?” Nan’s voice drifted through the upstairs hallway.

I grasped hungrily to come up with an excuse. “We were just watching a movie. But Brooke fell asleep, and she’s not exactly light,” I mused; hoping the truth of the last sentence outweighed the lie before it.

“Oh. Okay. Well, you two should get in bed, then. Do you need any help?”

“Uh, no. I’ve got her. Thanks, though.” I didn’t want Nan to struggle under Brooke’s weight, and I surely didn’t want her to get close enough to smell the liquor clinging to Brooke’s clothes and breath.