The Bitter (Addiction #1) Read online

  ONE

  The party has been going on for hours now. Loud voices, even louder music with bass so heavy it’s been rattling my television hanging against the wall seems never-ending. Ben will be leaving for college in a month or so, and our mom and dad are on a trip somewhere and won’t be back for days. Not that they pay much attention to me, but still. Days.

  After my nanny, Connie, left for the day, all of Ben’s friends showed up.

  I’d been standing on the landing, watching them all stream in when I was told to get upstairs and stay out of the way. Like I want to be around those losers anyway.

  Big silver barrels and so many bottles of brown and clear something or other poured through the front door. It’s warm out. Many of the people here are in shorts. The girls, well, some are in bathing suits. A lot of them are real pretty. Some are using the pool.

  Not that I’m watching or anything. Cause I’m totally not. Honest.

  Well, maybe kinda. It’s pretty hard to miss the giggling and splashing. I’d like to play in the pool but Connie says I can’t without her watching. So stupid. I’m not a baby anymore. I wish she would stop treating me like one.

  Anyhow.

  Like I said, the party has been going on for forever. I’m hungry. But I don’t want Ben’s friends to yell at me for invading their space. My brother is cool. He treats me okay, I guess. He’s a lot older than me though so I imagine it’s not very fun to have your younger brother always hanging around. Still, he treats me better than mom and dad do. It’s his friends who are the jerks. It’s his friends who act like having a kid around is such a problem for them.

  At least they become that way after they’ve had a lot to drink.

  Even if I drink with them.

  It’s happened once or twice or maybe six times. Usually a gross tasting beer that one of them thinks will be funny to see me try cause of the faces I make. But they always drink with me. Usually by the time the bottle is shoved into my hands, they’ve all had a lot, so they yell at me, act like I’m the problem.

  Like I said, they’re jerks.

  Ben doesn’t know about his friends doing this though. I’m always told not to tell him or one of them will punch me. I guess whether they have a drink or not, they’re still mean to me.

  Whatever.

  I’m hungry. I live here. They don’t. I’m sure Ben will protect me if I need him too.

  Though the music is so loud I can’t hear myself think, I still sneak out of my room. I creep down the long hallway to where a baby gate has been set up. I know the gate isn’t for me anymore. I know it’s not meant to keep me upstairs or away. I know Ben put it up because he doesn’t want anyone bothering me or messing up the bedrooms. I know this. I heard him tell everyone the deal one time.

  “Under no uncertain terms is anyone, and I do mean anyone, allowed up the stairs. You leave Chace alone. You leave the bedrooms alone. There’s enough space down here and in the basement. You go up the stairs for any reason, you’re out. Got me?” he’d said before he allowed anyone in the house.

  Some people didn’t listen to him that time. Found some people in our mom and dad’s room after I screeched that someone was trying to get into my room. That’s when the gate appeared.

  It takes some maneuvering, but I get over it no problem. It’s a lot darker downstairs than I expect it to be. Though the music is fast, the lights are low and sparkly. No one is really dancing. They’re all hanging off each other and spit swapping. It’s gross.

  Trying not to touch anyone, I squirm through the bodies toward the kitchen. I don’t know where Ben is, but that’s okay. As long as none of his jerk friends see me, I’m good.

  The kitchen is crowded, the lights so much brighter than in the front room that I have to squint. Everyone in here is talking, laughing. Most have a red cup in their hand and I can smell a really strong odor coming from a funny looking cigarette.

  I know I’ll be seen easier in here, so I duck into the pantry to grab some chips or cereal or something. Mom and dad aren’t health freaks, but they don’t really allow junk food in the house. Digging around, I find a bag of Fritos. Connie probably bought it. If I behave in school the whole week, she gives me a treat. It’s usually junk food related and I love her for it. She’s of the firm belief that everything is okay in moderation.

  I’m just about to dart back through he crowd and up to my room when Harry, one of my brother’s friends corners me.

  “Would you looky here. The baby got out of his playpen.” I am not a fan of Harry. I don’t think Ben is either, but he still keeps him around. “How old are you now, kid? Huh? What, five? Six at the most?”

  “I’m seven,” I say through gritted teeth. I’ll be eight soon and am in second grade.

  “Ooh, seven. Such a big boy you are. Practically fucking grown up!”

  I know he’s making fun of me. I’m not stupid. I also know not to talk back to him. He’s hit me before for trying to stick up for myself.

  “Hey, big man, if you’re so grown up, you need a grown up drink.” He snatches my chips out of my hands and pulls me behind him toward a cooler. Before I even have a chance to try and get my snack back, a red cup is pushed into my hand. “Drink that, then you’ll be a real man.”

  I don’t see what Harry gives me. I just know it smells sweet and kind of fruity. Like the fruit salads Connie makes and lets me have. Raising the cup to my mouth, I take a tiny sip, just to taste. Surprisingly, it doesn’t taste bad at all. In fact, it’s really good. So I take another, bigger drink and before I know it, my cup is empty.

  My face feels hot, my head is beating, and my eyes are blurry. I try to focus on Harry, on his laughing face, but it’s too hard. Still, I hear myself mumble ‘more’ to him as he takes my red cup and refills it. This time, there’s fruit at the bottom. I really like fruit. It’s one of my favorite things to eat!

  I don’t really know how much I’ve had, or again, what it is. But suddenly that doesn’t matter because the cup isn’t in my hand anymore, and Harry isn’t in front of me. Ben is. He looks mad. And scared.

  “Hi Ben,” I think but I’m not sure if I say it out loud.

  “Jesus, are you fucking kidding me?” He’s shouting but not looking at me. He’s looking to the right…or is that left? I can’t tell. I just know he’s moving back and forth too fast. “You gave my little brother Jungle Juice? I can’t fucking believe you, Harry! This shit can kill him. He’s only seven for fuck’s sake!”

  I feel arms wrap around me, lifting me off the ground. My head is spinning faster, and now my stomach is starting to feel woozy. I try to tell Ben this but he’s still yelling at Harry. And everyone else.

  “Everyone out. Go home. Party’s over.” I hear grumbles as I’m jostled in Ben’s arms. “And Harry? Don’t ever show your face around here again.”

  I don’t remember much after that. I just know it’s really bright in my room when I wake up. I know Ben is asleep in the rocking chair that is usually near the window, but is now against my bed. I also know that I’m going to throw up.

  I don’t make it to my bathroom. Instead I puke all over myself. All over my bed.

  That wakes Ben up.

  “Oh thank God, you’re awake.” He’s out of the chair and hugging me, in all my pukey glory. “I can’t believe Harry gave you liquor last night. I can’t believe he gave you Jungle Juice of all things!” The rocking from Ben makes my stomach turn over again and I throw up some more, but Ben doesn’t let go. He’s still telling me how sorry he is and how Harry is never allowed around me again. He also says he’ll wash my clothes and bedding so Connie doesn’t find out.

  “Jesus Christ. You’re first taste of alcohol and it had to be Jungle Juice,” Ben says sometime
later, after I’ve washed up and my sheets changed. I don’t tell him it wasn’t my first time. I mean I’m sure he’d be even more mad and I don’t want him mad at me. Even more, I don’t want his jerk friends to find out I told and have one of them punch me for it. Even if Ben does stick up for me.

  We’re still in my room, and are watching Pink Panther cartoons – my favorite. Ben ran out and bought me a sausage, egg, McMuffin from McDonald’s, said it would help with my stomach and the hangover I seem to have. He’s right; I feel much better. Still, I can’t get the taste of that drink out of my head or off my tongue. It was like fruit punch, only better.

  Well, except the part where it made me throw up. But I really do feel much better now. It was much easier than having the flu.

  “I’m sorry I scared you, Benny.”

  “I know you are, Chace. I’m sorry I wasn’t a very good brother last night. You could’ve died from that drink.” He’s shaking his head, looking at me weird. “I really can’t believe you didn’t get alcohol poisoning from it.”

  “It didn’t taste bad.”

  “That’s not the kind of poisoning I’m talking about. You’re so little. And that drink is so strong. It’s just not safe.”

  Mom and dad come home a few days later. The whole house is cleaned up so it looks like a party never happened. Ben’s girlfriend, Amy, comes over to help clean up. She also checks up on me a bunch. I like Amy. She is always bringing me candy and cookies her mom makes for the booster club. I also hear her tell Ben it is “about time” he kicked Harry to the curb.

  Seems no one really likes Harry.

  I know they’re mad at him. And I don’t like him still either. But that really was a yummy drink. I don’t want Ben to know, but I’m hoping I can have another when the next party rolls around.

  TWO

  Windows are shaking as bass thumps through the whole house. Bodies gyrate against each other on the makeshift dance floor while others move in shadowed corners and behind the nearest room with a door. This party is a life force all on its own and I don’t even know a third of the people in attendance.

  It’s not the attendees that matter to me though. It’s the booze flowing fast and free that I care about.

  “I love it when your parents go on conference trips,” Nolan tells me as he refills his cup for the no doubt hundredth time. “No ‘rents, no rules. Tons of hotties in bikinis. It’s like spring break.”

  Shaking my head at him, I watch the scene play out before me. Not a lot has changed since Ben had his first party here. When I was barely passed toddler stage. The people obviously have, but the point is still the same. Once again, my parents are away at a medical conference for my father. Nashville this time, I think. Or maybe it was Lexington. Who knows? Who cares, is more like it. They won’t be back for another week. That’s all that matters. And there’s no one here to keep tabs on me.

  It’s not like I’m important enough to pay attention to. The moment Ben moved off to college, heading to Duke, my parents practically disappeared. Now of course that’s an exaggeration. They are still very much around. Both go to work. Attend charitable functions. Have dinner parties that pat them on the back.

  What they don’t do, however, is pay any attention to me, their youngest child.

  It’s almost laughable, really. The first time I had a party of my own, I was so smashed and then sick afterwards, I decided to leave the mess for the cleaning crew to take care of. And let me tell you, you are a not a distinguished doctor in Houston if you don’t have yourself a maid or five. So anyhow, I figured one of the housekeepers would tattle on me for the massive mess left behind. I was only fourteen, I hadn’t yet learned to exert my control over my own domain yet. So there was a definite mess.

  As expected, one of the cleaners not only found me covered in vomit and worshiping my toilet, but they told on me too. Connie, my dear, sweet Connie, was still with us then and instead of dear old mommy or daddy telling me how disappointed they were in my actions, I had to receive the message second-hand several days later.

  “Chace. What are you doing?” Connie had sat on the counter beside the sink as I puked my guts up after my party of one the night before. I’d known her question was rhetorical, so I didn’t bother answering. But she sure had a lot to say. “Your parents are very upset at your actions while they were gone. The house was a disaster. I’m sure, given how you are right now, you weren’t much better the morning after the party. We’re worried about you, sweetheart. Your parents want you to be healthy and this isn’t healthy. I mean they’ve locked up the liquor, Chace. Where can you possibly be getting it like you are?”

  Leaning against the bathtub, I just chuckled. “My parents aren’t worried about me. I’ll believe you are, Con, but I know for a fact, Estrella and Ashton Delane were more upset over the mess of the precious abode than about the fact I was so sick. There’s a reason you are still employed here and no offense, but it has nothing to do with how good of an employee you are and everything to do with the fact my parents want nothing to do with me.”

  Connie had no response to that. She knew I wasn’t dumb, that I knew the real deal. She was the only one who gave any kind of damn about me. Maybe it was because she never had any kids of her own, or maybe because she really did care about me. Either way, she was all I really had left with Ben no longer around. It’s so unfortunate too. It wasn’t even six months later I lost her to breast cancer.

  “You think I got a shot with Monica right now?” Nolan asks pulling me out of my thoughts. I follow his gaze to where Monica and some other girls are playing volleyball. He’s staring so hard at her I’m surprised she doesn’t feel his gaze. I just shake my head. “Why not man?”

  “For starters, you’re both completely hammered.” Her loud shriek followed by an even louder laugh proves this. As does the way she can’t focus on the volleyball coming her way. “And you’re not that big of a douche to try to hook up with a girl who isn’t completely coherent. Even if you are on your own way to joining her in incoherency.”

  “Maybe she’ll get hit on the head with the ball and I’ll be the one to rescue her.”

  Laughing, I toss what’s left of my drink down the sink. “Yeah, or maybe you’ll be the knight in shining porcelain that holds her hair while she pukes.”

  “Fuck you, Delane,” Nolan grumbles as he pushes me. Then after a minute, I see a devious smile come over his face. “What about you? You gonna try and hook up with Britney finally?”

  A heavy sigh leaves my lungs as I look toward my feet. I don’t follow his gaze this time. I know she’s nearby. It’s not that I can feel her or sense her presence. It really is as simple as my best friend being completely fucking obvious about her being nearby. I give another quick shake of my head.

  “No? Why the hell not? That girl wants to jump you bad, my man.”

  I don’t have time to answer. “Hi, Lank.” Britney spares a quick glance at Nolan before turning her attention and those batting eyelashes at me. “Chace.”

  She walks by and trails a finger down my chest. I’m sure she’s trying to be sexy but I have my reasons for the way I feel. And I really don’t find her sexy at the moment. I wait until she’s out of earshot before turning toward my best friend to offer my reasons up to him.

  “For starters, she calls you Lank.”

  “So?”

  “So? Really?” My laugh is incredulous. “Sooo, you’re name isn’t Lank. Unless you’re parents decided to change your name from Nolan Norton the Third, you are just letting her call you a different name. And that’s really pathetic.”

  “Could be a nickname,” he tries to defend but it sounds lame and he knows it.

  “You haven’t had a nickname since you were five.”

  “Whatever. That can’t be your only argument. Who cares if she gets my name wrong as long as she gets yours right?”

  Technically he’s right. Who cares if a hot girl gets my friends name wrong? She isn’t after him so it doesn’t matter if she
knows it or not. It’d be nice, show she was paying attention to me for more than looks or my parent’s bank account, but again, it’s not that big of a deal. However, there are other things that take the cake for me.

  “Okay, she broke up with Brent like, two days ago. Who knows if they’ll get back together again since as everyone knows, this isn’t the first time they’ve broken up since the end of the school year. And considering we’re only two weeks out, yeah, no thank you.” I’m counting off on my fingers my reasons so Nolan focuses. “Second, I’m not going to hook up with a girl who is Brent’s ex. He gets pissed off for no reason, probably all those steroids he likes so much, and I am not going to be a punching bag for him because Britney likes to mess around. And lastly, she’s not my type. She’s your type.”

  Nolan looks at me like I’m crazy. “What are you talking about? Britney is everyone’s type!”

  “Exactly. Everyone’s. Sloppy fucking seconds, or thirds, or whatever. Just no thank you.”

  No one knows I’m still a virgin. It’s not some big secret I’m carrying around and protecting because I don’t care about any of that. It’ll happen when it happens and it won’t be with some chick who plays games or gets around a lot. I hate games and I definitely don’t want to catch some fucking disease because of fucking. At McAllister, the preppy private high school I attend, you can bet your ass the STD rate is probably way higher than our ignorant and uninvolved parents think it is.

  Still most everyone thinks someone has been with me. I don’t disprove the rumours because no one specific has ever been named. There’s just talk. No one is getting hurt by the talk. No need to stop it.

  “I heard he’s got a big dick.”

  “I heard his last girlfriend was a senior in college.”

  “I heard at fourteen, he was fucking some twenty-three year old and she was talking about how he can go all night.”

  The rumours are completely ridiculous. For one thing, I’ve never had a girlfriend, so no to the senior in college and twenty-three year old. Besides, I think if that were true at fourteen, the girl would’ve been sent to jail for statutory. My parents may not give a damn about me, but Connie was still around, and I know for a fact, she wouldn’t have let anything like that happen.