Chapter 198
Holt’s house isn’t exactly in town. It’s kind of on the edge, away from close neighbors, but not out into the farm fields yet, either. So… it wouldn’t necessarily be easy for my sister and Aaron to sit on a rooftop and hide, but they insisted I not worry about them, and Aaron tossed Brandon the keys. To the Lamborghini. I’m not sure I closed my mouth until we were about halfway to Holt’s house.
Emma had decided she had no problem riding with Lucy and Jason since I told her I wouldn’t be staying long due to the fact that I would rather be at home with the rest of the LIGHTS team than at this stupid party, and she decided if she was going to go, she may as well make the most of it. When Lucy told Jason she’d changed her mind and wanted to go, he was almost as excited as he was about the football team’s big win.
So I’d showered and thrown on jeans and a nice sweater, fixing my makeup the best I could and drying my hair so I didn’t have to worry about Mom telling me I’d “catch my death of cold,” something I knew I no longer needed to worry about but would let her get by with her fantasy. By the time I was ready, Brandon had already gotten an earful of my parents’ warnings, and I think he was happy to leave, especially once he had the keys to the sportscar. My sister would follow us in her Dodge Charger, which my dad had been driving pretty regularly to work since that was the closest thing to a sportscar he had access to and was still dreaming about the one chance he’d had to drive the Aventador last year.
“Turn here,” I said to Brandon as we neared Holt’s house. I assumed the football players probably wouldn’t be there yet--unless they didn’t mind coming all sweaty and gross or were faster showerers than me, but then, they also could get by with running a comb through their hair. The closer we got, the more nervous I became.
Brandon’s hand on my knee jarred me back to reality. “It’ll be fine, Cass,” he said, withdrawing his hand. “We’re just going to make an appearance, and then we’ll go.”
“Right,” I nodded, wondering if we’d end up folding Emma up and putting her in the trunk, although, my sister could give her a ride if she decided she didn’t want to stay.
When we pulled up in front of Holt’s house, there were already a ton of cars. Brandon carefully parallel parked in a spot that looked a little snug to me at first, but he made it work. There were lots of kids outside, and they all turned and stared as he cut the engine. “Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance,” I said.
He grinned at me and said, “Wait for me to get your door?”
I nodded, and he got out of the car, careful not to run too quickly, as he came around and flipped up my door.
When I got out, I felt like a celebrity. Everyone was staring at me, their mouths open. A rush of people headed our direction. I felt my stomach up in my throat, but Brandon had a cool smile on his face, and I realized he had this covered.
“Hey, Cass,” one kid I hardly know was saying. “What an awesome car!”
“What is it?” another boy, one I recognized from choir, asked.
“It’s an Aventador,” Brandon replied, like he was an idiot for not knowing. “Don’t touch it.”
“I won’t,” the choirboy replied.
“Hey, Cass! You made it!” Holt came over with a couple of red cups in his hands and offered them to me and Brandon. I had no idea what was in them, but I knew better than to take it. I declined, but Brandon took them both, handing the one intended for me to some girl at his elbow.
“Yeah, we can’t stay long, though,” I said. “My sister’s visiting.”
“Right. I saw her at the game,” Holt nodded. “She’s even hotter now than she was in high school.”
I raised my eyebrows at him, not sure what to say. “I’m surprised you got back here so quickly after the game,” was all I could think of.
“Oh, well, I needed to get here before the crowd,” he shrugged. “Brandon, right?” he asked, offering one of his meaty hands in my date’s direction. “The other guys were just telling me about you. You’re Dr. Sanderson’s son?”
“I am,” he nodded, shaking Holt’s hand. Holt is about six-two and probably weighs almost three hundred pounds. I knew Brandon could flip him over his shoulder without breaking a sweat if he wanted to.
“That’s cool. We all really liked your dad. It’s a shame… what happened to him.”
“Thanks,” Brandon said, and then changing the subject, he asked, “Who’s picking the tunes around here? This song’s kinda lame.”
I just noticed for the first time it was a song by a particular artist I wasn’t too fond of either. “Oh, well, you can change it if you want,” Holt said, turning and gesturing at the house. “It’s just my Spotify playlist.”
I followed Brandon to the porch of Holt’s ranch style three-bedroom house. It wasn’t huge, but the full basement was a sort of man cave, and his parents never really seemed to care if he threw parties while they were out of town, so a lot of kids hung out here on the weekend, even when his parents were home or Holt hadn’t planned for a party. But once we walked inside, it was clear he’d put some planning into this. There was lots of food and drinks available. Kids were dancing, even on the coffee table, and the place was already a mess. This was a far cry from Wes’s birthday party.
Brandon set his drink down and went over to where the music was streaming. A few seconds later, Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was reverberating around the house. The other kids seemed to like the song choice, and cheers went up.
“Good call,” I shouted into his ear, and he smiled at me again, like he’d already alerted everyone to think his music choices were the best.
I saw Jason’s truck pull up outside and grabbed Brandon’s arm, pulling him back the way we’d come. I didn’t want to stay in Holt’s house any longer anyway. It was stifling in there. Too many bodies in too small of a space.
