“You say that all the time but then get in his face.”
A group of kids were lingering and watching as Mr. Thompson talked to the paramedics.
“He didn’t start the fight.” My girl kind of had, which was mind-blowing. Then again, she was under the influence of alcohol. If she hadn’t been, she wouldn’t have outright punched Sloane.
What is it about drinking? I didn’t get the eagerness to try beer or vodka or whatever. Still, my senior year wasn’t going to revolve around babysitting Marcus. I’d done that last year, and the aftereffects had landed me in the hospital. I wasn’t repeating that again. As much as I loved Quinn, I wasn’t her babysitter either.
My senior year would be focused on basketball, scouts, college scholarships, and spending as much time with Quinn as I could before we both went our separate ways next year. At least I expected we would go to different colleges since her plan was medical school and mine was basketball.
The paramedics carried Celia away with Liam following closely.
Mr. Thompson ran a hand through his brown hair, appearing angry, tired, and ready to yell at someone.
Carter, who I just noticed standing not far from his dad, narrowed his gaze on me before stalking over.
Here we go.
Carter wagged his finger. “This is your fault.”
Ethan slid his hand in between Carter and me. “Back off, dude. My brother had nothing to do with any of this.”
Carter ignored Ethan as though he weren’t standing next to me. “You got my sister drunk so you could take advantage of her. She was with you around the barn earlier. Wasn’t she?”
I put a hand on my brother’s arm. “Ethan, I can handle Carter.”
Ethan lowered his hand but didn’t leave.
I inched closer to Carter. “I don’t control your sister’s actions.” Then I blew in his face. “Do you smell alcohol on me? No. So fuck off.” The last thing I wanted to do was fight him or cause any more trouble. But I wasn’t about to let him pin any of the evening’s events on me.
Carter’s nostrils flared. “If I find out you had anything to do with this, I will end you once and for all.”
I stuck out my chin. “Dude, go back to college. Stay out of our business.” Then I sauntered away, not giving him a second look. “Ethan, let’s go to the hospital.” Carter hated me, but Liam didn’t, and since he and I were good friends, I wanted to support him.
Ethan brushed his shoulder against Carter’s as he passed by.
Carter caught his arm. “You Maxwells are all alike. You think your shit doesn’t stink. You think you own this town. Your cousins were the same way.”
Ethan stood toe to toe with Carter, almost eye to eye. “You sound jealous, dude. And next time you feel the need to threaten my brother, think twice. Because you’ll have more than one of us to deal with.”
Carter plastered on an evil grin. “Bring it, dude.”
I gripped Ethan’s shoulder. “Not here, man. People are watching too.”
Quinn ran down the path from the house.
Her mother stood on the deck with her hands on her hips. “Quinn,” she shouted.
Carter pushed Ethan’s shoulder as he rushed to block Quinn. “Mom is calling you.”
Quinn shoved him out of the way, or she tried. “I want to see Celia. I’m going with her to the hospital.”
The lights of the ambulance were fading as they left the farm.
Carter gripped her arms. “Liam is going with her. Go up to the house and get cleaned up. You look a mess.”
Quinn glared at her older brother. “Fuck you.”
I felt like I was in an alternate universe, not exactly sure who Quinn was right now. I knew what alcohol did to a person. Hell, Marcus had given us a front-row seat to his drunken behavior a few times already, and I didn’t like the drunk Quinn. If her idea of letting loose was to take up drinking or anything else, like drugs, then our relationship was in jeopardy.
“We need to get out of here.” Ethan’s voice broke through my trance.
I kicked my legs into gear alongside Ethan, and we headed up to the lot by the farm store.
“Maiken,” Mr. Thompson called.
I briefly closed my eyes. If I ignored him, he would tear into me, and the last thing I wanted to do was make my girlfriend’s dad madder than he already was. Not only that, I respected my elders.
I pivoted on my heel, coming face-to-face with a Carter lookalike.
Mr. Thompson’s signature scowl was ever present. That glower had terrified me many times when I’d first met him. “Have you been drinking? Is that why my daughter is drunk?”
I swallowed my own anger, which was primed to lash out. Why does everyone think I forced Quinn to drink? Then again, like father, like son.
“No, sir,” I said in a polite tone, even though it was difficult not to shout at him.
He glared, studying me.
“Sir, we haven’t been drinking,” Ethan said at my side.
Quinn cried nearby. “I hate you,” she said to Carter, or maybe she was talking to her mom.
The wrinkles around Mr. Thompson’s eyes relaxed. “Go home.”
Ethan and I didn’t waste any time in getting the hell out of there.
Quinn was in a world of shit, and I doubted I would see her any time soon.
“Maiken,” Mr. Thompson said. “You’re not allowed to see my daughter until further notice.”
Well, there went my goal of spending time with my girl, which probably wouldn’t matter anyway, at least not for the next four weeks. I was off to basketball camp for most of the summer. Maybe when I got back, this night would be a distant memory, and Quinn and I could pick up where we’d left off.
Yet somehow, I didn’t think things between us would ever be normal again.
I trudged up to the house, stomping my feet as I passed Momma. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d acted like I was five years old when I didn’t get my way.
“Quinn, get cleaned up. Your father and I will be in to talk to you shortly,” Momma tossed out over her shoulder.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as the blood on my lip began to dry. I should be scared about what punishment Momma and Daddy would dole out, but I didn’t care. I cared about Celia. She wasn’t conscious, and I needed to see her.
I stopped at the sliding glass door. “Mom, I want to see Celia.”
“No!” Her tone was frightening, and it had been years since she snapped at me. “You’ll be lucky if you leave this house for the next six months.”
I dashed away tears, opened the door, and trudged inside as my heart splintered and shattered. It was all my fault that Celia had gotten hurt.
Damn Sloane and Marcus. I blamed Marcus more. I knew I shouldn’t have let him come to the party.
I sobbed as I climbed the stairs.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
My head pounded as though someone had taken a sledgehammer to it, and my stomach swirled like an out-of-control tornado.
I rushed into the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet. After emptying my stomach again, I grabbed some toilet paper and wiped my mouth. Then I went over to the mirror and gasped. My upper lip was swollen. My hair stuck out in every direction. My skin was as white as snow, and my eyes were bloodshot. Plus, my mouth was dry and parched.