Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Sulli and I have great powers of deflection because he never looks over here. Also, he’s more interested in watching Easton and Xander drink beers and chat. Easton props a shoulder leisurely against an expansive window—a breathtaking sunset view of Philly thirty-three floors above ground. My brother motions around with his hand, in deep convo.
They don’t notice Ben.
“What happened to them?” I ask Sulli. “Ben and Winona?” Because at this point, Winona would bee-bop over to Ben and possibly slide down the twisting banister for fun. It’d be his idea first, and she’d likely follow after he did it.
Instead, Winona is skidding across the hardwood in her socks with Vada and trying not to spill their Solo cups of beer. Our parents gave the high schoolers permission to drink if they spend the night. So that’s pretty much why the alcohol is flowing.
I figure Sulli would know what’s up with Winona since that’s her little sister. “I’m used to seeing Ben give Winona noogies,” I tell her. “It’s kinda sad seeing them on opposite sides of a room.”
“Yeah, it’s still fucking strange.” Sulli watches her sister stop herself from a full-body collision with Eliot. She falls on her butt, in a fit of laughter with Vada. “Nona says it’s different now that he’s in college and she’s still in high school.”
Ben sees the girls tearing up from laughter on the floor. He smiles a little, but he seems sad. Sometimes in Television and New Media, as the lights dim to play video clips, he stares off with a morose expression. I’ve asked him if he’s okay, and he’ll just nod.
“They grew apart?” I wonder.
“Maybe, but that’s not what I think,” Sulli says. “My theory is that Ben knows my sister is dreading every year she gets older—how she’s scared to turn eighteen and have these fucking media vultures obsessed with her. They’re already printing bikini photos and she’s still a minor. Same thing happened to our mom.”
Aunt Daisy was a high fashion model, but the press sexualized her a lot, just because she was deemed “the hottest Calloway sister.” I don’t have to dig deep in Fanaticon Forums to find posts about Winona’s beauty and how she’s a Daisy Calloway lookalike.
“Ben’s now surrounded by college guys,” Sulli explains. “And I think he doesn’t want them around her. He knows it’s better if Winona stays in high school, so he’s distanced himself a lot.”
That theory sounds likely to me, and it means that Ben is sacrificing his friendship with Winona to ultimately protect her.
Sulli takes a pee break, and I moon-walk over to Tom and Eliot who sit on the frame of the blue couch. They swing around when I approach from the back. Tom tastes my berry seltzer and gags. “Dude, that’s foul.” He checks the expiration date.
“Give me.” Eliot tries it and makes a confused face at Tom. “And what exactly do you think it tastes like?”
“Straight cough syrup.”
“I like it,” I shrug. Tom lets me try his mixed drink. First sip, my eyes bug out and I cough a little. “Whoa.”
Eliot snatches the Solo cup and tastes the drink too. He barely flinches. “Straight vodka.” He cocks his head. “Trying to get drunk without me, brother?”
“It’s a sipper,” Tom says, “and I’m celebrating.”
“By yourself?” Eliot questions. “Without your two very best friends?”
“Very best,” I chime in with a nod.
Tom clinks his Solo cup against my seltzer can and then Eliot’s water bottle. It’s a little shocking Eliot isn’t drinking at a party, but he said he needs to be sober to soak in the inevitable drama. We take sips in unison, and Tom announces what we’re celebrating. “The Carraways officially have a new drummer.” By his surly expression, this decision might not have been his. “Alfie Busby.”
“Who?” Eliot and I say together.
“I know next to nothing about him,” Tom explains. “I heard his demo and he’s okay. The label either said to choose him or they’d drop the band. It was tempting, but we’re too close to finishing the first full album, and they’re talking about sending us on tour. But I swear if they make us open for Nothing Personal, I will jump off a bridge.”
“And survive,” I note.
“Gloriously,” Eliot finishes.
We all cheers with our drinks again and overhear Audrey tell Kinney, “I would let him take me, but not sweetly. A full-face grab, hair pull—he can even throw me over his lap.” Tom chokes on his vodka, and I pat his back while Eliot stands off the couch and zeroes in on their sixteen-year-old sister.
“Audrey,” Eliot says with a devious smile. “Who needs to die tonight?”
“Oh, you there.” Audrey looks at us while Kinney pets Salem at her side.
“You knew we were here,” Tom rasps, trying to clear his throat. Eliot passes him the water.
“Did I?” She plays innocent, but Cobalt mischief is in her eye.