“Well, screw him!” I cry out.
The headlights of an approaching vehicle hit me from behind, startling me. Wiping my tear-streaked cheeks, I turn around to see a black Lexus sedan stopping beside me.
I know this car. I’ve been inside it a few times—and always with Liam.
The driver-side window rolls down, and sure enough I see a familiar face. “Parker?"
His dark, cloudy eyes settle on mine. “Get in.”
I don’t even think twice. I round to the passenger side and get in without a word.
The air is thick with silence as we coast down the road, neither of us in the mood to break it. Both of us still reel from the shock of Liam and Peyton’s betrayal.
Did Parker beat Liam up? For a brief moment, worry settles in my chest. But I quickly brush it off, remembering what my boyfriend did.
No. Ex-boyfriend.
I have to get used to that.
My phone vibrates in my purse and I pull it out, hoping it's not him. I don’t want him to hear me crying over what he did.
Thankfully, it's not Liam. Just Brayden calling.
I sniffle, rejecting the call and turning off my phone. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. Glancing up, I notice Parker making a turn for my street.
“Wait,” I stop him. “I don’t want to go home yet.”
He stops the car, staring at me with a frown. Sometimes I forget how intense Parker's eyes can be.
I swallow hard. “I don’t care where we go. Just…I don’t want my family to see me like this.”
I can’t have Dad and Avery asking me what's wrong the moment they see me. I won’t be able to keep the tears at bay. I’ll be forced to talk about what happened, and that's the last thing I want right now.
Nodding tersely, Parker cranks the car back up and zips past my house.
“Thanks,” I mutter and rest my head against the seat, looking out the window.
It's true what I said—I don’t care where he takes me. If it were up to me, we would drive as far from here as possible.
But I don’t think Parker shares the same sentiment. Even though he's gripping the steering wheel pretty tight.
Several minutes later, he turns off the engine of his car. We're at the beach but thankfully nowhere near Carson’s house. Judging by how deserted this part is, I guess we're at the edge of town.
Fine with me. I'm not in the mood to socialize.
Turning to Parker, who has remained silent the whole time, I boldly ask, “Do you have something to drink?”
He gives me a wary look. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Maybe so. But I don’t care.
“Don’t you want to forget? I’m not the only one who’s been cheated on tonight,” I point out bluntly.
He stiffens, his jaw clenching, but doesn’t respond to that.
I feel bad for rubbing it in his face. But isn't that the reason why we're here? To commiserate about what happened? Well, wallowing in self-pity isn’t complete without alcohol.
Without a word, he darts out of the car. And I watch as he goes to pop open the trunk at the back. When he slides back inside, he's already holding a six-pack can of Corona.
He hands it over to me. “Suit yourself.”
“You’re going to make me drink all of these?”
His eyebrows shoot up. “You think you can?”
It feels a little weird that I'm having this kind of conversation with him. He's Liam’s best friend, but we're not particularly close. To me and everyone else, Parker Holloway is an enigma. He's quiet, brooding and impossibly intimidating.
His thick, russet brown hair is short and tailored, like that of a rich, no-nonsense executive of a Fortune 500 company. His eyes, the same color as his hair, seem to be locked in perpetual glare. His thick eyebrows are usually pulled together in a frown, his lips often pursed in a thin line.
You'd have better luck winning a five-dollar scratch card than see him smile.
He towers at six-four—and has a lean, muscular frame, thanks to being on the swim team—which only adds to his commanding personality. Quinn once commented that he looks more of a grown-up than a teenage boy. While Peyton often complains about him being too mature for his age.
Is that why she went for Liam? Because he's the perfect embodiment of a teenage boy?
Anger swirling inside me, I open one Corona harshly and take a long pull.
I've changed my mind. Tonight, I'm going to get drunk.
*******
“I don’t get it. Why did Peyton cheat on you? You’re hotter than Liam. More popular, too. Everyone knows that.”
If I were sober, I would've been mortified by the words coming out of my mouth. But I'm not, so I currently don’t care.
Besides, Liam lost my loyalty the moment he slept with my best friend. I don’t have to feel any guilt for demeaning him. He deserves worse than that from me.
I'm about to take another swig of Corona when Parker grabs it from my hand. “I think you’ve had enough. Your cheeks already look like peaches.”
“Shut up. I’m only on my third.” I snatch it from him, quickly guzzling it down before he can stop me again. Afterwards, a loud burp escapes from my lips, causing me to burst out laughing.
“Damn it, Sawyer. You’re drunk.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” I mock, my words slurring. “Why don’t you join me instead of being a buzzkill?”
While I drown myself in Corona, he remains annoyingly sober.
He scowls at me.
I point my nearly empty beer can at him. “Peyton’s right. You’re boring.”
He looks at me like I just punched him. “She said that?”
Shame courses through me. “No. I was just being mean.” I just wanted to lash at someone. Anyone. Tears spring to my eyes and my lips tremble. “I’m sorry.”
Then I lose it. I break down in the front
