Page 23 of The Life Wish


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With only the moonlight and that distant night lamp from another house to guide me, I tiptoed my way around the roof in search of a way to get back down.

I’d just made it to the other side of the house, cursing when I scraped my toes on the rough shingles for about the third time when a gust of breeze from the surf made me look up and glance over. When I swore I could make out some movement in the dark, I squinted harder at the beach until—there—a figure was slowly approaching, just meandering along with his hands in his pockets as if taking a moonlight stroll.

It couldn’t be Hayes. This figure was much taller and broader, plus he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, not just swimming trunks.

He looked like an adult who might actually know what the hell was going on, so I waved my hands over my head to get his attention.

“Hey!” I yelled. “Hey, could you help me?Hello?”

5

FOSTER

“Foster! Yo, Foster! Over here!”

I turned at the sound of my name and spotted a few of my teammates sitting on a couch in the room I was passing through.

“Hey,hey!” I called back, grinning big as I lifted my Solo cup in cheers. “You three behave over there, ya hear?”

When they promised not to, I laughed and shook my head, only to carry on until a light flashed from a phone as someone else took a picture of me.

When I glanced in that direction, a pair of girls waved.

“We love you, Foster!” they sang in unison before the photographer took another picture, nearly blinding me with the flash.

“Love you too,” I answered, hitching up my chin in acknowledgment as I kept going, leaving that room and entering another in search of the party’s host.

As I blinked the flash from my eyes, I got a fist to the shoulder in congratulations and a slap on the back. “Yo, man, great game. You did awesome.”

“Thanks.” I lifted my cup to them as well.

“Stallions rule,” the shout went up as I escaped that room, nearly bumping into someone entering as I was exiting.

“Whoa! Hey, sorry about that.” I lifted my cup quickly and turned sideways to avoid a collision.

“No worries, Foster. Great game.”

“Thanks, man.” Checking my drink to make sure none of the contents had sloshed out, I exhaled in relief and found myself in the kitchen.

I used to carry around a bottle of water during all the parties I had to attend, but too many people had pestered me to take a shot or chug a beer with them. Eventually, I learned to pause by the keg when I first arrived and pour myself a frothy brew. That way, everyone thought I was already drinking, and they didn’t encourage me to get drunk quite as often.

Sometimes, I could claim that it was football season—I had to keep my body in pristine condition for the next big game—in which case, I didn’t have to carryanythingaround. Except the season had ended this week, so here I was. Faking it.

But I just couldn’t imbibe in big crowds that weren’t in a perfectly controlled, safe environment; I’d never been able to shake the fear that someone I loved would die again if I did. I knew no one had been drunk when Hayes had died, but still. I couldn’t help but worry that something would go wrong during the revelry if I didn’t keep a constant, sober vigil.

Over by the island, people were cheering on the legs of some fella they were holding upside down in the air as he did a keg stand. Spotting the guy I was seeking, holding up one of the legs, I started that way.

A roar went up as the drinker finished his feat and popped upright again, wavering unsteadily, even as he hollered with everyone else and spiked his arms into the air victoriously.

Lifting my hand, I waved toward the host. “Yo, Witt.”

Javonte Witt was the team’s first-string running back and a social media sensation. Rich as hell, he and his family owned a mansion on the beach, and this was where he threw every party he’d ever hosted.

When he caught sight of me, his face lit up, and he yelled, “Eighteen,” calling me by my jersey number. “You made it!”

I laughed as he lumbered over to embrace me in a bear hug. “Of course, man. I said I would.”

“This is great.” Pulling away, he motioned toward the keg. “Hey, you need a drink?”

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