Hypothetical Heart (Farewell Fairwood #2)

Chapter 14

14

“ I t’s St. Patty’s Day. Make sure you’re wearing green,” I tell Winnie as she lets me in her house.

“You’re going to be puking green by the end of the night,” she says, eying the bottle of green alcohol in my hand. “What even is that?”

“Green Hawaiian Punch and vodka.” She scoffs as we head up the stairs toward her room. “I have to be festive.”

“I understand that, but we’re driving your car. My seats are white, and I prefer them that way.”

When Winnie opens her closet, it’s an array of white, pink, and her navy blue school uniforms. “Um… do you even own anything green?”

She shuffles her hangers around, searching through her massive closet. “I think so.”

I take a seat on the bench at the end of her bed, watching her as I pet Suzie, who is lying on the floor in front of me. Finally, she pulls a hanger out of the back depths of her closet.

“This is green.” She smiles, holding up a tiny lime green T-shirt with a rainbow across the center .

“Winnie, that shirt looks like it fit you in elementary school. Why do you still have that?”

She shrugs. “I keep a lot of my old clothes. It will probably still fit me.”

Winnie walks into the ensuite bathroom, shutting the door behind her, and when she reenters the bedroom, I almost fall off the bench and onto my ass.

“Jeez, could you not drool all over my bedroom floor?” she jokes.

The green T-shirt is off the hanger, perfectly conformed to Winnie’s perfect body, only falling just under her ribcage.

“I—” I’m trying to think of something to say that doesn’t make me sound like an idiot. “I’m surprised it still fits you.”

She looks down before turning around toward the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. She smooths her hands down the shirt, tugging down on the bottom hem.

“Better?” she asks.

“I’d rather your stomach be showing than your chest, but I also don’t have a say in the matter.” I’m not going to act like a controlling asshole. Winnie can do what she wants.

She pulls the top of the shirt back up, covering her chest and exposing her stomach all the way up to her ribs. “Better?”

I nod.

“Do you think these jeans look okay with it?” She asks. One thing I’ve learned about being friends with girls for so long is when they ask how they look, they want the truth.

“Yeah. You look good, Win.”

“Thanks.” She smiles, smoothing her hands back down her waist and into the back pocket of her jeans. “I’m ready to go if you are.”

I hand her my car keys as we walk down the stairs and out the door. She has agreed to be my designated driver since I’ve already started drinking and don’t plan on stopping soon enough to be sober by the end of the night.

It’s not the normal circumstances since I’m usually the one hosting parties, but since my parents are home this weekend, that wasn’t an option.

Winnie pulls my car into the subdivision where Briar Hart lives, parking a few houses down before we head toward the sound of blaring music and screaming high schoolers.

Eloise and Genevieve have both become good friends with Briar and since I found out about Eloise’s crush on her, I’ve noticed how she’s been coming around more often, which is why we all got invited to this party.

“Wait,” I say when I see Eloise’s car. Reaching into my glovebox, I grab the supplies I need.

The sight of me approaching our friend’s Porsche makes Winnie groan. “You’re still doing this?”

I scatter condoms all over the hood of Eloise’s car, laughing to myself as I use my teeth to uncap the dry-erase marker.

“Don’t you think this is the tiniest bit childish?” Winnie asks, taking a closer look at the condoms I’ve picked out. “Eggplants? Really?” She can’t help but laugh.

Eloise, our very out, very lesbian best friend, also finds the joke hilarious. Since freshman year, when she came out, every gift I’ve given her has had a handful of funny condoms thrown in the gift bag, and then she covered my car in lube.

Since then, I’ve dedicated my life to messing with her car every time I see it. I’ve gotten creative over the years, finding glow-in-the-dark condoms, flavored condoms, and all types of funny ones.

“Oh, it’s totally childish,” I admit, leaning over the windshield, writing my very thoughtful message: UR GONNA NEED THESE. “But it’s also funny as fuck.” At this point, Eloise has grown to expect it, which only makes it harder for me to get away with. So, when I get the chance, I can’t not do it.

“Come on, Evie’s texting me asking where we are,” Winnie says, still laughing as she pulls me up the stone path toward the front of the house.

The sight of Briar’s house makes complete sense for a high school party. The marble floors are sticky with alcohol, and the entire downstairs is destroyed. At least Briar was smart enough to block the staircase off.

“Logan!” I hear Eloise from afar. “What the fuck are you drinking?” She and Genevieve stumble up to us, both entirely intoxicated and holding solo cups.

I hold up the jug I’ve been carrying around. “Vodka and Hawaiian Punch!”

They both grimace. “That’s fucking disgusting,” Eloise says.

“What can I say? I’m festive!”

“Where the fuck is Briar?” Genevieve suddenly says, looking down at her empty cup. “She needs to make me another drink.”

“She’s in the backyard, come on!” Eloise yells, motioning for us to follow her.

We all make our way through the cramped house toward the backyard, Winnie holding onto the back of my shirt to keep up.

“Gen, where is your boyfriend?” I ask, looking around in search of him.

“Jameson Beaumont?” she asks, whirling around to face me.

I laugh. “Do you have another boyfriend I should know about? ”

Her back straightens at the horrendous thought, and she rapidly shakes her head before turning her attention back toward the party scene. “brIAR!”

I see a flash of brown hair spin around from behind the outdoor bar, and lo-and-behold, Briar Hart is bartending. “Valley! Get over here!” She calls Genevieve Valley because of her position as a valedictorian.

Eloise, Winnie, and Genevieve all take seats on barstools in front of Briar while I take in the scene of the backyard. The pool has dozens of rainbow floaties in it, and the water is dyed lime green. People are jumping in the likely freezing water. I thought the inside of this party was a mess, but it doesn’t come close to the sight of the backyard.

“Hey Briar, if you want my contact for a great cleaning service, let me know.” I found out the hard way how difficult it is to clean a mansion after a high school house party and how worthwhile it is to pay someone else to do it for you.

She sighs, looking around at the mess. “That would be great, thanks.”

Genevieve asks for another drink, and Briar takes her cup. I have no idea where she learned to bartend how she does, but it seems like she knows what she’s doing.

Briar’s in the middle of using one of the silver drink mixers to shake up Gen’s drink when everyone hears her name being called from across the yard.

“Briar! Briar!” Noah Sommers is calling for her as he approaches. Her entire body goes stiff, which puts me on high alert.

Noah Sommers is a douchebag and not the type of douchebag I would classify myself as. Before he was rumored to be dating Briar, he had sex with anything with a pulse–he still might be. I’m not sure.

“What’s going on?” I look toward her, trying to gauge the situation the best I can. An angry guy approaching a scared-looking girl can never be good.

“Nothing,” she says, almost in a daze. “Nothing.”

As soon as Noah lays his hands on the bar top, I know something isn’t right. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Briar looks up at him but doesn’t say anything.

“Why are you serving other guys’ drinks?”

My brows furrow, watching the situation unfold. I’m not sure what’s going on between the two of them, but no matter what it is, there shouldn’t be anything wrong with Briar talking to other guys.

“I’m serving drinks at my party,” she replies easily, continuing to pour drinks.

Noah slams his hand on the counter in front of her, and I can tell by the look in her eye it takes everything in her not to jump. “I don’t like my girl serving drinks to other guys.”

Briar rolls her eyes. “I’m not your girl, and you’re at my house at my party, so if I were you, I suggest you watch your tone.”

“You weren’t saying you weren’t my girl last night when I?—“

“Woah, Woah.” I hold a hand up, cutting him off from finishing that sentence. I can only imagine what he was about to say, and I don’t like it. “Tone it down, man.”

“I’m not your bro!” Noah fumes, making no sense.

“I never said you were, but what I am saying is you better calm down and be respectful.”

“Briar, get the fuck over here,” he seethes through his teeth. I step in between him and the bar, trying to keep Briar out of his view. At the same time, I watch Eloise get up from her stool and make her way around the bar, pulling Briar backward and away from Noah.

“You better watch the way you talk to her,” I warn him. I don’t take disrespecting women lightly, and I’m this close to punching him in the face.

“Hey, you!” Noah yells, pointing toward Eloise. “You better stay the fuck away from my girl!” Both Eloise and Briar look like deer in headlights, their faces dropping like they’re not sure what to do.

And I’m not sure if he’s saying that because Eloise is the one bridging the gap between him and Briar or if it’s because Eloise is gay and he thinks something else is going on. Either way, I’m pissed.

“Talk to a girl like that again, and I’ll break every bone in your goddamn face,” I tell him sternly.

Noah makes a pfft sound, like he doesn’t believe me.

“You need to leave,” Briar speaks up. “Leave. Now.”

“You fucking–”

“You heard her,” I say.

Right then, it becomes clear Noah has had enough of me. He straightens up his chest, trying to seem bigger than he is, before lunging at me, shoving me backward.

I catch his arms, pushing him against the bar and getting a singular punch in, and I hear the crunch of his noise when it makes contact with my fist before I’m pulled away.

“Fuck you!” Noah’s screaming, aimlessly throwing a punch and completely missing me.

But then I see a familiar blur of brown hair hit the ground, and my stomach drops like a sack of rocks. More guys have gathered around, and a few of them manage to detain Noah, pulling him toward the exit.

I’m not worried about that. I’m more worried about the fact Briar just got socked in the face. “What the fuck? Are you okay?” I grab her by the shoulder, lifting her off the ground and onto a barstool.

Her nose is bleeding, and I almost throw up at the sight. I can’t believe I let that fucking douchebag hit her.

“I’m fine,” she says, head lulling. “Can you—Will you get all these people out of my house?”

Genevieve and Winnie grab either of her shoulders, keeping her steady, while Eloise grabs a water bottle and paper towel behind the bar.

I cup my hands around my mouth, yelling through the yard, “Everybody! Parties over! Get the fuck out!”

People filter out of the pool, backyard, and house while the girls are still tending to Briar.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” Luke asks, coming up behind Eloise.

“No.” Briar shakes her head, closing her eyes in a wince. “I’ve had a broken nose before, so I know it’s not broken. Hopefully, the bleeding will stop soon.”

“I’m so sorry that happened, Briar.” I can’t lie and say I don’t feel guilty because I do. Briar should have never been in front of Noah, and I should have never let her get punched.

Her eyes soften, and she pulls the tissue away from her nose. “Logan, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t even know I was behind you.”

I nod, running my hands through my hair, trying to comprehend everything that happened in the past ten minutes.

A few minutes later, Briar’s nose took a while to stop bleeding, but now she has a bottle of vodka in her hand. We all had advised her against it, but she was determined not to ruin everyone else’s fun, which had led us to where we are now, sitting around a campfire in the back of the Hart’s property.

Even Jameson finally showed up. I’m not sure where he was or how he got here. All I know is that he’s likely going to be staying at his girlfriend’s house tonight.

Genevieve is sitting on his lap, kissing his neck every so often, a telltale sign that she’s drunker than she intended to be, while everyone else—besides Winnie—passes around the bottle of vodka.

Eloise even took a sip of my vodka Hawaiian Punch concoction. She grimaced and handed it right back.

And by the time Jameson takes Genevieve home, Eloise drags Briar upstairs, and Winnie gets me back out to my car. I’m drunk.

“Yeah, it’s time to go home,” Winnie sighs when she finally buckles my seatbelt.

“I couldn’t agree more,” I slur, my head leaning back against the seat. But before she closes the door, I reach out and grab her wrist, stopping her. “Hey, Win?”

She pauses, looking down at me, her eyes soft in the dim light of the car’s interior. “What is it, Logan?”

There’s something about the way she’s standing there, her hair falling around her face, and the way her lips are slightly parted that makes my heart stutter. The alcohol in my system only amplifies the emotions I’ve been trying to keep at bay for so long.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” I admit, my voice a bit more vulnerable than I intended.

Her expression softens, and she kneels down so we’re at eye level. “Of course, I’m here, Logan. I wouldn’t leave you alone like this.”

“No, I mean…” I trail off, struggling to find the words. “I mean, I’m glad you’re here. With me. Tonight. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Winnie’s eyes search mine, and for a moment, the world feels like it’s shrinking down to just the two of us. She doesn’t say anything, but the way she looks at me—like she’s seeing me, really seeing me—makes my heart skip a beat.

“Logan…” she begins, her voice barely above a whisper. “You know I’m always going to be here for you, right?”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. There’s a tension in the air, a crackling energy that feels like it could ignite at any moment. And then, before I can second-guess myself, I reach out and gently cup her cheek, my thumb brushing against her soft skin.

She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering shut for just a second before opening again, locking onto mine. The moment feels charged, like we’re teetering on the edge of something more, something we’ve both been too scared to acknowledge until now.

But just as quickly as it comes, the moment passes. Winnie pulls back slightly, breaking the spell, and the reality of our situation crashes back down on me. We’re both drunk, both emotional, and this is not the time to complicate things even more.

“Let’s get you home,” she says softly, but there’s a lingering warmth in her voice, a promise that whatever this is between us, it’s not going away anytime soon.

I nod again, letting her close the door and walk around to the driver’s side. As she starts the car, I can’t help but steal one last glance at her, my heart aching with everything I’m too afraid to say.