Distraction (Westbrook Series Book 1) (2 page)

"I got it for the wedding and figured it would be okay for tonight. Do you like these gold wedges with it?" I ask while shifting my position so she can see my feet from various angles.
Honestly, I'm just relieved for the change of subject.

"They are perfect," she says approvingly. They must look good because Avery does not lie, especially when it comes to fashion.

She glides a light coral-tinted lip-gloss across her lips, and rubs them together, making a pop sound. After carefully inspecting her makeup and hair, she sweeps some bronzing powder across her lightly-freckled cheeks and nose. She smiles, knowing that she has a perfect, sun-kissed glow now. As always, she is effortlessly stunning.

"You look great, Aves."

"Thanks, but this hair is . . . I don't even
know
what it is," she groans as she starts tugging at her golden locks.

Her hair is swept up into a messy, yet put-together bun. A few loose strands have fallen onto her shoulders, framing her oval face perfectly. I've always wondered how some people manage to artfully master the messy bun look. It amazes me how they always seem to have the perfect ratio of mess to style. It always looks effortlessly cool, and yet they never appear sloppy or unkempt. Unfortunately, when I attempt to twist my hair up into a messy bun, I look like I have just stepped off of a motorcycle, and there is nothing even remotely stylish about it.

"So, I didn't see Kyle downstairs . . . . I thought you said he was going to be home this weekend."

I roll my eyes because I know how badly she is crushing on my brother.

"I have no idea." I shrug before continuing. "Mom said he would be here, but maybe he changed his mind. He's probably not going to hang around here tonight, even if he
does
come home. I mean, now that he's in college, why would he want to hang out with a bunch of high school kids,
right?"

I don't know why I didn't think about it before, but I wonder if Kyle is bringing Sam home with him. Suddenly, my stomach drops. I am short of breath and my hands start sweating.
What on earth is happening to me?

"
Please
, Laila. He is
only
nineteen. I
swear
. You act like he's
so
much older than us. Cindy Dixon's boyfriend is in college and they started dating the summer before her junior year."

"Yeah, but he probably cheats on her all the time. I mean, would you
really
want to have to worry about all of the college parties, and girls constantly throwing themselves at your boyfriend while he’s away?" I surprise myself when the words slip out of my mouth.

I'm not really sure where all of this negativity is coming from. Actually, I do remember. I went to one of my brother's frat parties last fall when my parents and I visited him on campus. I saw
exactly
what kind of stuff goes down. Knowing my boyfriend is going to parties like that would just make me paranoid.
No thank you.

She shrugs and replies, "I'm not worried about it. My man will only have eyes for
me,
anyway. That is why I am saving myself for him. I am
not
going to waste my time on some hormone-crazed
player
, who doesn't appreciate his girlfriend."

"You
don't say
." She is so busy talking that she misses my sarcasm completely.

"Laila, that's what high school boys
do
. College men are so much more mature. They know what they want and aren't afraid to go after it," she says in that pointed way that only Avery can get away with.

I agree with her that college boys aren't afraid to go after what they want. However, I'm not so sure what they want is really all that different from what the high school boys want. In fact, I remember the college guys I saw being the very same
hormone-crazed players
that Avery so badly wants to avoid. If you add the fact that they were usually drunk to the mix, they might even be worse than high school boys.

"And you think my brother
isn't
one of those hormone-crazed players?" I ask sarcastically while rolling my eyes.

"He just hasn't found the right woman yet. He keeps wasting all of his time with ditzy, brainless sorority girls that bore him. In high school, it was always cheerleaders." She rolls her eyes while I start laughing.

"
You
are a cheerleader, Avery," I remind her.

"Yeah, but I'm not the kind that he hooked up with." She makes a face, crinkling up her nose in disgust. "When Kyle realizes I've been here this whole time, he will have no choice but to change his ways and fall deeply and madly in love with me
.
" She bats her eyelashes dramatically and says it with so much conviction that I would probably believe her if I didn't know my brother better.

"So when do you think people will start showing up?" she asks, finally changing the subject.

"Well, my parents' friends are probably already trickling in, but I don't expect anyone from our school to show up until later. Let's go downstairs and get some food before everyone arrives," I suggest.

Chapter Two:
High School Boys Are Intimidating Enough
 

Both sets of our French doors are open, allowing the fresh breeze from the backyard to trickle in. It's hard to believe we've had record heat this entire week because today is damned near perfect. The deck looks amazing. It looks like a page right out of
Better Homes and Gardens
. Last week, Dad re-stained it to a beautiful mahogany color, which makes it look brand new. Plus, Mom has white lights draped across the pergola, which makes it feel like we are at an outdoor bistro. She has fresh, vibrant flowers in all of the planters and has added a couple of new hanging plants by the entrance.

I can tell Mom has on her Jason Mraz Pandora radio station, but it sounds better than it normally does. I almost forgot that Dad had wired up new outdoor speakers last weekend in preparation for this party. I wonder if I will be able to change the music when my friends get here later.

There is a huge copper bin full of ice, beer, wine coolers, and my favorite flavored Smirnoff Ice drinks on a small table on the deck. Avery and I immediately spot it. We share a look, knowing we will discreetly score some drinks after more people show up. I think my parents probably know that we drink. After all, they were in high school once and they are still pretty young. I think they get it, but I still do not think they would approve and certainly not if they knew it was at their house.
What they don't know will not hurt them.

My mom rushes by with a platter of something that smells a little bit like heaven. My stomach growls and I realize that in all my excitement, I completely forgot to eat. Drinking on an empty stomach is not a very good idea, especially not for someone who isn't used to it. I tug on Avery's arm and pull her along with me back inside the house.

"Oh, hi girls. I didn't see you there. I'm just trying to do some last-minute prep. Laila, will you please take this outside and set it on the patio bar with the rest of the appetizers?" she asks while handing me a large plate with guacamole and colorful tortilla chips. My mouth starts to water because I absolutely love homemade guacamole.

Mom and Avery are busy chatting about the decorations as I make my way back outside. There is a huge assortment of appetizers and snacks covering the outdoor bar on the patio that sits right off the deck. I shove a couple of loaded chips into my mouth and snag a mini stuffed tomato thingy that I'm pretty sure was taunting me. They are amazingly delicious. I wonder what is stuffed inside as I make my way back up the stairs and into the house.

Avery sneaks up behind me whispering, "Find out if Kyle is coming," while elbowing me.

I just look at her.

"Please?" she mouths while smiling nervously. She is holding her palms together as if she is praying.

I roll my eyes and sigh. "Fine, but you owe me."

She grins proudly as if she just won a competition.

"So, Mom, do you know when Kyle is going to be home or did he change his mind and stay at school this weekend?" I ask casually.

Her eyes are suddenly large fish bowls. "Oh my goodness. That reminds me, he is coming and he's bringing Sam with him. I need you to run upstairs and make up the guest bedroom for him. I completely forgot about it and they are going to be here soon. Would you please do that for me, Laila?"

I simply nod as I feel my throat closing in on me.

"There should be clean sheets in the linen closet," she adds while rushing out of the kitchen to take care of something else that is no doubt, party-related.

My stomach suddenly explodes into a million frenzied butterflies and they are doing some serious gymnastics in there. I'm not really sure why I am so nervous. It's not like it's the first time Sam has stayed with us. After all, our home is practically Sam's second home. Like Kyle, he stays here when he isn't at school.

Sam used to live right down the street, but his parents moved to Portland, Oregon, when he and Kyle went away to college two years ago. They go to Northeastern University, which is two hours north of Brookville. My mom insists that Sam stay with us on breaks, weekend visits, or whenever he feels like visiting. She feels really bad that he can't just pop home on a regular basis the way Kyle can.

My mom goes out of her way to make him feel welcome. Sam knows he can stay here anytime, even if Kyle isn't with him. He has never done that, though. I imagine it would be a little weird, although, he does make himself at home when he's here. He doesn't think twice about grabbing a soda out of the fridge or fixing himself a sandwich. He even does his laundry here. I should say that he tries to do his own laundry here, but my mom usually takes over before he can finish even one load. She insists that she is "already doing everyone else's laundry anyway" and "that she might as well throw his in there, too
.
"

Sam isn't one of those freeloader types, though. He is really grateful and is always looking for ways to repay my parents for their hospitality. I've seen him wash my parents’ cars. He runs countless errands for my mom and is always offering to help clean the house. As my mother would say, "His parents have raised him right."

Why am I suddenly feeling all flustered?
I guess it's because I have no idea how he's going to
be
around me. I haven't seen him since the wedding. Is he going to act differently now or will he even notice me? That's when it hits me.
I am wearing the exact same dress that I wore to the wedding.
I suddenly have the urge to go change my clothes.

I take a deep breath and try to reason with myself. I just need to calm down and remember what this night is about. I've been waiting for an opportunity to see Devon Mitchell outside of school for a very long time. Plus, I am not even ready to date college boys even if Sam Woodson were to give me the time of day, which he won’t. I'm more than happy to stay in the little leagues for now.
God knows that high school boys are intimidating enough.

I spread a soft, plush blanket across the clean sheets and tuck it neatly under the queen-sized guest bed mattress. I imagine Sam sleeping in this bed and wonder what it would be like to be snuggled up against him in it.
How would he hold me? What would his lips feel like if he kissed me?
I bet they wouldn't feel rubbery or slimy the way Ricky's did. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks and I start to feel a little dizzy. Luckily, I hear a car pull up and it breaks me out of my Sammy trance.

I hurry back downstairs. "We're all set. Do you need help with anything else, Mom?"

"No thanks, sweetie. Why don't you and Avery go on outside and enjoy yourselves? I think we've got everything under control." She smiles in that warm, motherly way that makes me fuzzy inside.

Avery loops her arm around mine and drags me outside. There are already a few small clusters of people sprinkled across the deck, but it's mostly just our neighbors.

We go down to the patio to sit by the pool and wait. Later, when our friends show up, it will most likely be where we all hang out anyway. The adults usually stay up on the deck. At least, that is how it was when my brother used to have his parties.

This is my first attempt at hosting my own high-school party. I'd probably be more nervous about having one with my parents here if I hadn't seen Kyle do it so many times before. His parties were always a hit. For some reason, everyone thinks our parents are cool, and they are not bothered by their presence, even though most kids wouldn't be caught dead having a party with their
own
parents at home.

Chapter Three:
Did I Just Admit He is Gorgeous?
 

As the evening wears on, I become increasingly anxious. The sun is fading and the lights up on the deck look like a strand of glowing pearls, twinkling against the darkening, purple sky. I didn't realize just how many of my parents’ friends were here until I came up to the deck to get some drinks.

I weave my way in and out of the crowd, trying my best to remain invisible so I can snatch a couple of bottles of raspberry-flavored Smirnoff Ice drinks out of the bin, and make my way back downstairs unnoticed. So far, everyone is fully engaged in lively conversation. I nonchalantly slip two bottles under my cardigan, and grab a can of Pepsi to hold in plain sight.

As I am sneaking my way back down the stairs, I spot Kyle fist bumping one of Dad's golf buddies in the kitchen. Suddenly, I feel like my knees are going to buckle. I scan the entire kitchen (at least what I can see of it) and the length of the deck. I don't see him anywhere. I suppose it is possible that Sam changed his mind and didn't end up coming home with Kyle. While the thought relieves me at first, I can't help but feel a little disappointed.
Why are you disappointed? Remember what this night is all about, Laila. It has nothing to do with Sam.

I am ready to pop the top off this drink to calm my nerves. I just want to relax and stay focused on Devon. I sneak back downstairs and find Avery standing by the pool talking to a guy that I don't recognize.
Does he go to our school?

"Laila, where did you go?" she asks me with her arms crossed over her chest.

The two of them are staring at me, waiting for me to answer. I look down at my sweater, wondering if I should reveal the drinks in front of this strange boy. My eyes travel back up to his face again, but I am still unsure. That's when I realize that this guy is quite possibly one of the most handsome boys I've ever laid eyes on. His eyes look a little familiar, but I can't place why. You don't forget piercing, emerald green eyes like his, the kind that almost seep right down into your soul when they look at you.

When a strand of his dark-chocolate brown hair falls forward on his forehead, I have this urge to push it back. Thankfully, he beats me to it, and runs his hand through his hair, as if it is a normal habit of his. He flashes me a big, gorgeous smile, revealing two adorable dimples and a set of perfect white teeth. My heart starts pounding hard against my chest. This is when I finally realize that I do in fact know this boy. His parents are good friends with my parents. I haven't seen Trevor Maddox since we were in junior high.

"I just thought we could use a little drink to loosen up before everyone gets here." I toss my sweater onto the side table and hand one of the cold bottles to Avery.

"Sorry, Trevor. I didn't even know you were going to be here. Pepsi?" I ask, smiling nervously while holding up the can of soda.
Good Lord. I certainly do not remember him being this hot in junior high.
I almost can't look at him.

"Are you
sure
you're old enough to be drinking?" he asks in an accusatory voice. I can't help but notice the scowl that has replaced his beautiful smile.
Is he really going to give me a hard time about drinking?

"Well, obviously I'm not, and you
know
that, considering we are the exact same age," I say sarcastically while rolling my eyes. I may be rethinking my initial thought about him being good looking.
Annoying is definitely not very attractive on him
.

"We are not the same age. I'm seventeen. I'm sorry, but sixteen is way too young to be drinking." He snatches the bottle out of my hand before I can even take my first sip.

Needless to say, this infuriates me.
Where does he get off telling me that I'm too young to drink at my house?
Is this really the first thing he says to me after not seeing me for more than three years?
There is no, "Hey Laila, how are you?" or "What have you been up to?"
If he even thinks about telling my parents, I swear I am going to shove his snarky little ass right into the pool, clothes and all.

He twists off the cap and hands the bottle to Avery exchanging it for her unopened bottle. He flashes her one of those smiles that I now realize is just plain cocky, while twisting off the other lid. Just when I think he is going to hand me my bottle back, he turns his attention back to me and takes a sip of it without even blinking. He is drinking
my
bottle that he took right out of
my
hands. Well technically, Avery is drinking that bottle, but you know what I mean.

Now, he is staring at me, almost taunting me with a smug little look on his gorgeous bronzed face.
Did I just admit he is gorgeous? Damn. He really is too hot for words, but I am not about to let him know that I think that.

"So, let me get this straight. I am too young to be drinking, but my best friend, who is only four months older than me, and you, who are only six months older than me are, old enough?" I cross my arms over my chest and huff. Yeah, I'm not proud of my bratty behavior, but I am really worked up here.

"That's about right. In what, two months you will be seventeen, right?" He doesn't wait for me to reply. "I think you will be old enough then." He says this as if it is the most natural thing in the world before taking another sip.

I look at Avery in that way that says, "Can you believe this guy?" without actually saying anything. She has an amused expression on her face as she bites back her own smile. I smirk at her when I realize that she is not going to help me out.

"One month," I correct him.

"What?" he asks.

"You said I would be old enough in two months, but my birthday is next month." My glare is deepening, but it is becoming increasingly difficult to hold back the blush I know is already creeping onto my face.

His eyebrows shoot up and the corners of his lips turn up slightly. There is no doubt; he has noticed my reaction.

"Relax, Patterson. I am just messing with you." He elbows me playfully and is smiling again as he relinquishes my bottle. I am not laughing or smiling.

"Real funny and no
.
I don't think so. Who knows what kind of diseases and germs you have? I mean, it's been, what? Three years? For all I know, you could be carrying mono and I am not about to take that kind of risk by drinking after you. Especially not when . . . never mind. I just can't get sick right now." I push the bottle back toward him.

"So, what is so important that you can't possibly get sick?" he asks with a mocking tone. His lips are now stretched tightly across his face and those damned dimples are back.

"She is about to finally hook up with this guy that she has a crush on," Avery announces without looking at me.

I cannot believe she would just blurt that out to this guy that she has only known for two minutes. Actually, I can believe it because it is exactly the type of thing Avery does.
Did it not even occur to her that I might not want him to know about Devon?
I shake my head in disbelief.

I'm sure she does not think it is a big deal because she never worries about what other people think of her. She says exactly what is on her mind all the time. I wish I had that kind of confidence even if I am about ready to kill her for it right now. When she finally notices my furrowing eyebrows, she rolls her eyes and throws back another drink, acting as if I am being overly dramatic.

Trevor's eyebrows pop up curiously. "So, are you really hoping to score tonight, Patterson?" he asks with a half laugh before taking another sip from the bottle I had refused.

"
No
. Jesus, I am not looking to score. What is
wrong
with you?" I glare at him, but he is just smiling at me and shaking his head, as if I am somehow amusing him. "A guy that I maybe, kind of, sort of like, is going to be here tonight, but I don't know if he even likes me back. Not that it's any of
your
business."

I look over at Avery and realize that she also has a foolish grin on her face. She and Trevor exchange a look and appear to be holding back their laughter.

"I am really glad that I can be so entertaining for the two of you, though." My voice is heavily laced with sarcasm.

Trevor looks at me and shakes his head again.

"What?" I ask incredulously.

"Nothing. It's just hard to imagine you . . . in that way, Patterson. I guess you really have grown up, haven't you?" He has a more serious look on his face now and those damned eyes are just teasing me.

In what way is it hard for him to look at me?
  The idea of him thinking about me possibly "scoring" with some guy makes me blush.

"Why do you insist on acting like I am so much younger than you?" I ask.

"I don't really know. You always seemed so much younger, I guess." His eyes travel down to my chest, but he quickly looks away. "You know, before . . . now, that is." He swallows really hard at the end of his sentence and now, he has a really strange look on his face that I can't read.

What is that supposed to mean?

"I'm going to get another drink since someone took mine." I send him a little flirty smile as I walk away. I figure I might as well ease up on him since he really was just playing around. It's kind of hard to stay mad when he keeps flashing me that killer smile with those intoxicating dimples. Plus, every time he looks at me with his beautiful green eyes, I feel like he sees right through me.

I'm replaying our exchange in my head as I scale the deck stairs. I don't know why, but I didn't seem to get nervous and weird around Trevor, like I normally do when I'm around other guys. Even though he is ridiculously hot, he's still just little Trevor Maddox from way back when. Only, he really isn't all that little any more. It's amazing how much a person can change in only three years.