Loud cheers and whistles ring around the field as one of our players makes a winning touchdown, claiming our school's victory against the rival team. It’s a complete pandemonium as people run toward the middle of the field to join our team's big celebratory huddle.
From my seat in the bleachers, I watch Peyton run toward Liam and throw her arms around his neck. But I’m not a masochist, so I quickly avert my gaze as Brayden and I hang back, waiting for the crowd to thin before making our way down the bleachers and heading for the parking lot.
We’re going to head straight to the celebration party where we'll meet with Quinn. It’s hard to find her through the thick crowd, anyway. And I certainly don't want to bump into Liam and Peyton.
"Think Liam and Peyton will be there?" Brayden asks as if he read my mind, cranking the engine of his car then backing out of the parking lot and speeding off.
"When did they ever miss a party?"
Besides, Liam is the star quarterback, the party is basically for him. And it’s a beach bonfire—not at Parker's—so it’s not like they’re not welcome there. No one will drive them away. I just hope it’s big enough for the three of us.
Arriving at the bonfire party, which is held outside Marc Nelson's—one of the football players—beach house not far from Carson's, my silent wish is answered. It’s already filled with party-goers dancing around a large bonfire and some small ones, red Solo cups littered around them on the sand.
An upbeat song is booming from the speakers propped up on a long table, and underneath are three beer kegs and a few coolers. All of which will probably only last for a good three hours.
"There she is!" Brayden yells over the music, pointing at the group of cheerleaders where, sure enough, Quinn is dancing in the midst of.
As if hearing him shout, she turns our way. Smiling widely, she leaves the group and makes her way toward us. "Why are you guys empty-handed? Where are your drinks?" she hollers.
"We just got here!" I yell.
"I'll get us some drinks. Find a spot where we can easily hear each other!" Brayden shouts.
Laughing, Quinn nods and grabs my hand, leading me through the crowd.
We stop in front of an abandoned small fire and plop down on the sand. We can still hear the music from here, but we can carry out conversations without yelling in each other's ears.
Brayden is quick to join us with our drinks, and just when I'm starting to think Quinn already forgot about the phone call that morning, she doesn't waste time bringing it up in the worst way possible. "I can't believe you slept with Parker!"
Brayden spews out his drink into the ground, then turns to me with his eyes flared wide. "What the hell, Sawyer?"
Heads from nearby fires whip to us, their eyes wide as they stare at me.
Oh, God.
I want the sand to swallow me up right there and then. Feeling my cheeks burn a furious red, I glare at Quinn. "Did you really have to announce it to the whole world?"
"Sorry." Quinn winces, looking sheepish.
"FYI, I didn't sleep with him. I just slept at his house. That’s all. Nothing happened."
"So, you didn't sleep with Parker," Brayden clarifies, doubt lining his voice.
Ugh.
"No, I didn't. I just spent the night with him. Literally."
Quinn still looks confused. "But why were you in his house? What were you even doing there?"
I glance away. "It's a long story."
It's not like I can tell them about Dianne Holloway. It’s Parker's business, not mine. He's the only one who has every right to talk about her.
"Oh, come on," Quinn groans. "Don't leave us hanging."
"I can't. Sorry."
They spend the next several minutes prying about it, hoping I'll budge. They're just wasting their time. I'm determined to keep my mouth shut.
But, apparently, I'm the only one who's capable of that in this party. Word about me sleeping with Parker spreads around in no time. Which I learn in horror when whispers and snickers follow me as I make my way toward Marc's house to use the bathroom.
"Hey, Sawyer, does this mean you and Peyton are even now?" one guy hollers, making his whole group laugh and whistle.
This is bad. This is really, really bad.
Gritting my teeth, I keep my eyes straight, refusing to meet anyone's gaze and answer malicious questions being thrown at me as I walk past.
I’m almost at the front door when Liam suddenly appears, blocking my way. He’s wearing his letterman jacket and a furious expression. "Is it true?"
"Is what true?" I pretend not to know what he’s talking about.
"You and Parker…" He trails off and closes his eyes, as if it’s hard for him to continue. "Did you really sleep with him?"
What the hell? And seriously? He has the nerve to demand like he has the right?
"Get out of the way, Liam." I’m not going to bother explaining to him. I don't owe him anything. When he remains still, I simply walk around him.
"I asked you a question!"
"She didn't want to answer it." Parker's hard voice freezes me on the front steps. "So why don't you fuck off and leave her alone?"
Whirling around, I catch him locked with Liam in a stare down. Where did he come from?
That’s when I notice that the music has already stopped, and a crowd is starting to gather in front of the house. We’re making a scene now.
"What's going on?" Peyton shoulders her way to the front. When her eyes find me, she glares. "What did you do now?"
Like it’s my fault.
Ignoring her, I grind out to the two guys still glaring at each other, "Can you knock it off? Everyone's already staring."
"Let it be, Pretty Girl. This has to happen."
I whip my head over my shoulder to see Jamie, Bennett and Giovanni standing behind me. I scowl at their relaxed stances. "You're just going to let them beat each other up?"
"No, sweetheart,"
