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18

Present Day

“You’re cheating, you bastard!” someone howls from across the room.

Everyone in the room is laughing like hyenas. My dad’s friends have had a bit too much to drink.

When he’d invited Sean and I to a New Year’s party, I was not expecting it to be this many people. I thought maybe it would be some of his coworkers and a few neighbors. Not a full on blowout.

He has more friends than I do.

There has to be at least fifty people here, some playing board games and others drinking and talking.

In the corner of the hallway there is a couple kissing.

It feels strange seeing grown adults do this kind of thing. Especially people in their fifties and sixties. It’s refreshing knowing the spark doesn’t haven’t to end when you’re older.

I sip on my champagne, enjoying the light bubbles. I hate the taste, but it feels like a necessity on New Year's Eve. I’ve been watching Sean play Catan with a small group for the last hour. He’s lost every game, but he still has a giant grin plastered on his face. To this day, I still envy the way he can smile through anything.

I feel a little tipsy, only two glasses in, but it’s starting to take away the pain I still have in my ankle. Unfortunately, nothing can save my car.

Luckily, my dad has two, so I’m able to borrow his until I find another.

“I’m going to get another champagne, do you want one?” I lean over Sean’s shoulder, asking him.

“I’ll come with you. The game just ended.” He stands, placing his hand on my hip, guiding me to the counter.

My dad's eyes are stuck to us from the opposite end of the room.

“What is it?” he questions.

How does he always sense my feelings before I can get a grasp on it myself?

“It’s just weird being intimate with someone around my dad,” I say, pouring the champagne.

He snickers. “What, are you embarrassed of me?” he jokes.

I sip my drink, watching Ryan Seacrest bundled up on the TV.

“Wait.” He frowns. “You are, aren’t you?” he scoffs.

I nervously tug my hair behind my ears. “Of course I’m not embarrassed, I just—”

“You just don’t want me to touch you?” He narrows his eyes, annoyed.

“In front of my dad—yeah, kinda. He doesn’t need to see that,” I say in a whispered tone. I don’t want people to stare.

I can already feel eyes peering at us. I don’t know where his hostility came from.

“I thought we were past all of this, Bee,” he replies, disheartened.

Sean has already walked away from me before I can open my mouth to reply.

What just happened?

I nearly slam the champagne glass back down onto the countertop.

My dad comes around the corner, grabbing my elbow. “What’s going on?” he asks, concern rising in his throat.