1
"Your brother was in an accident."
Those six words are what started it all.
I was at a New Years party that I shouldn't have been at.
***
I told my parents I had a headache at exactly 7:08 PM. I watched the numbers change on my phone screen as I said it, my voice flat and unconvincing. My mother barely looked up from her own phone. My father said something that might have been sympathy or dismissal-I couldn't tell anymore, and I didn't care.
I climbed the stairs to my bedroom and shut the door with just enough force to seem authentic. Sick teenager retreating to her cave. They'd bought it a hundred times before.
I laid on top of my comforter still fully clothed-jeans, a black button up shirt, my black lace bra and matching panties underneath in case anything happened tonight-and stared at the ceiling. Downstairs, I could hear the muffled drone of the television, some New Year's Eve show my parents put on every year.
I checked my phone. 7:15.
Then 7:23.
Then 7:34.
At 8:02, I heard their bedroom door close.
At 8:11, I heard my mother's voice rise in a loud moan that made my stomach turn.
I texted Tobi: * ok come get me biatch*
She replied in seconds: *omw babe 🤪*
I waited until the sounds from my parents' room grew louder, more rhythmic, and then I slipped down the stairs in my Chuck Taylors, grabbed my jacket from the hook by the door, and stepped out into the cold December night. Tobi's beat-up Honda was already idling at the curb, headlights off. I slid into the passenger seat and she grinned at me, her eyes a little too bright.
"You look like you need to get fucked," she said.
"Shut up and drive."
She cackled and hit the gas, zooming away from my house.
I nervously watched Tobi drive like the rules of the road were a mere set of suggestions than the law. As she always did. She had one hand on the wheel while the other kept darting between her phone and the center console, glancing down at messages as if there weren't thirty other cars moving around her.
In the rearview mirror she's fixing her lipstick, twisting her face into different angles. Then dropped the lipsticks, took a cigarette from behind her ear and popped it in her mouth. She roamed her hands around and grabbed a lighter. She flicked it and lit the cigarette.
I rolled down my window and turn my nose up. I hated the smell of cigarettes. It just smelled trashy and dirty.
I gripped the door handle a little tighter every time the car drifts, my stomach dropping as she laughs at something on her screen, completely unfazed by how reckless she's being.
"Ughhh," she groaned.
"What?"
"I want to get dicked down tonight but like I hope he isn't some insecure little boy who needs to be constantly told "oh, wow it's so big. The biggest I've ever had. Oh my gosh I don't think I can take it." "
I laughed," Guys are really like that?"
It was an open secret. I was a virgin.
"Bitch," she sighed. " I wish I could say no. It gets so tiring. And don't even get me started on the fake moaning and orgasms we gotta do just to keep their ego whatever the word is."
"That sounds tiring," I said. "Why can't you just be honest?"
"I don't know. It's like an unspoken rule. When you're banging a guy make sure you tell him at least five times his junk is the best you've ever had. And the biggest. Make sure you moan a lot and definitely make sure he thinks he did a good job and got you off. And even if he cums in like two minutes just be like "It's fine. I don't mind so you don't embarrass him."
I shook my head. "That's stupid."
"I didn't make the rules. Just how it is."
"I feel like we should be allowed to be honest."
"You'd think, but men rule the world. We're just living in it."
"I hope you get lucky tonight, " she said with a sigh. "But I don't know if you will in that outfit."
I looked down at my button up, jeans, and sneakers unashamedly. "I didn't want to do too much."
"Well, you did too little, babe."
We arrived at the party about 30 minutes later. Safely.
It was in some off-campus house I'd never been to. It was Mason's, my brother's best friend since kindergarten. He had been adopted by a Christian family when he was a kid and since my parents claimed to also be Christian our families got along great when my mom wasn't being a bitch to his mom.
Mason wasn't a kid anymore though. He was a hot college student now with tattoos and piercings.
Tobi parked the car in the yard and began fussing about her makeup.
"Let's go, bitch," she whined.
I took a deep breath and got out of the car.
I watched as she slid off her trench coat jacket she always wore to reveal the most shocking outfit I had ever seen her in.
I knew Tobi was unpredictable, but nothing could have prepared me for this.
She stood there beaming, wearing a dress so incredibly sheer it might as well have been made of morning mist. Underneath the gossamer fabric, a pair of metallic star pasties and a matching micro-thong were on full display, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. My jaw dropped open, and for a solid ten seconds, I forgot how to form coherent sentences while she just giggled at my utter bewilderment.
"Close your mouth, babe," she said. "It's not time for a blow job."
I scrambled to find my voice, clutching my chest, as I said, "Tobi, that is so...bold!"
She shrugged. "Like I told you. I'm trying to get dick. And nothing makes men go crazier than some-" she bounced her chest up and down, "titties."
She threw her coat in the car and locked it then grabbed my arm dragging me toward the house.
The place smelled like stale beer and mildew even from the front porch. Music pounded through the walls. Playboicarti's Sky was on and the bass was so heavy I could feel it in my teeth.
Tobi fluffed up her curls and smiled at me. She was so fucking pretty I felt jealous. Next to this woman I was a girl.
"How do I look?" She asked.
"Like a bad bitch."
She reached out and unbuttoned several of my buttons until my cleavage was on full display. "Now you look like a bad bitch too.
My hands went up instinctively to cover my chest but she yanked them back down.
"Cut the shy act and let your inner hoe out."
Tobi pushed the door open without knocking and we were swallowed immediately by heat and noise and bodies.
Someone handed me a red, plastic cup with clear liquid in it.
I drank it without asking what was in it. It was stupid. I knew that.
It burned going down.
Vodka.
The living room was packed, people shouting over each other, laughing too loud, grinding against each other in a way that was supposed to be dancing. I didn't recognize most of them. They were older-mid-twenties, maybe, probably with jobs and apartments and the kind of casual cruelty that came from thinking they were better than everyone else.
I lost Tobi somewhere near the kitchen. So I stood off to the side like a loser.
I wasn't supposed to be nervous. It was just a party.
A crowded house full of loud music, flashing lights, and people I barely knew. Nothing worth freaking out over. Except Mason was here. I mean duh, of course Mason was here. It was his party.
The Mason.
The guy I'd spent the last ten years crushing on from a safe distance. Even if he was best friends with my brother, he always found a way to avoid me.
The guy with the perfect smile and messy dark hair and beautiful dark eyes.
The guy who was currently walking straight toward me.
Oh no. No, no, no.
My brain immediately forgot how to function. I looked away, pretending to be very interested in the wall beside me.
"Hey."
My heart nearly launched itself out of my chest.
I turned my head around.
Mason was standing there with his hands in his pockets.
"Uh... hi, Mace."
Smooth, Meredith. Real smooth.
He glanced around before looking back at me. "What are you doing here?"
For a second, I forgot how words worked. "Um, what?"
"Here." He gestured toward the crowded room. "At the party."
"Oh."
Brilliant response.
"I was invited."
His eyebrow lifted. "You're a little young to be here."
I blinked. Young? How young did he think I looked?
"I'm eighteen."
His eyes widened slightly. "Seriously? You're not lying?"
I nodded then shook my head. "I mean no. I'm not lying."
"Huh." He laughed. "I honestly thought you were like sixteen."
My jaw dropped. "Sixteen?"
Did he not remember coming to my 16th birthday party two years ago and setting off rocket fire works with Dan in the yard?
"Sorry," he said.
I couldn't even be offended because he was smiling. And when Mason smiled, the rest of the world kind of disappeared.
"It's okay," I said quickly. "I get that a lot."
I didn't.
Nobody had ever mistaken me for sixteen recently.
But if Mason wanted to think I looked youthful and adorable, who was I to argue?
He chuckled. The sound made my stomach do a complete somersault.
"Meredith," he said softly.
And that was it. That was the moment I died. Not literally. But emotionally? Absolutely. Something about the way he said my name made it sound prettier than it had ever sounded before.
I could probably listen to him say it for hours.
"Meredith?"
My brain immediately took that information and sprinted somewhere completely unhelpful.
Mason.
Meredith.
Meredith and Mason.
Mason and Meredith.
That sounded cute.
Wait.
Could there be a couple nickname? Most celebrity couples had couple names. Like smashing the names together.
Meredith and Mason...Masedith?Merison?
No.
Those were terrible.
Also both our names started with M.
That made everything weird.
Maybe-
"Meredith?"
I blinked.
Mason was staring at me.
I realized I'd completely zoned out.
My face burned. "Sorry."
His expression looked amused. "You okay?"
"Absolutely."
Definitely not.
I was currently having a full mental breakdown over the way he pronounced my name. But he didn't need to know that. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Then he reached out and patted my shoulder. Just a quick friendly gesture. Nothing special. Except my entire body immediately forgot how to operate.
His hand was on my shoulder.
His hand.
On my shoulder. I was going to remember this moment for the rest of my life.
"Well," he said, stepping back, "have fun tonight."
I nodded. Probably too enthusiastically.
"I will."
"And be careful."
"I will."
Then he smiled one last time before disappearing back into the crowd.
I stood there staring after him. Playboy Carti music pounding around me. People laughing. Someone knocked into my arm. I barely noticed any of it.
Because Mason had finally noticed me. After all these years.
Honestly, I figured that was enough excitement to last me the next ten years.
I was still up in the clouds when a guy with a patchy beard and a backward baseball cap came and stood by me. He was too close, his breath hot and sour against my face.
"You're cute," he said, and his hand touched my waist.
I tried to step back but his claws grabbed me. He leaned in like he was going to kiss me.
"I'm good, thanks, " I said.
"Come on, don't be like that." He leaned in, tried to kiss me again. I turned my head and his lips caught my cheek, wet and invasive.
"I said no." I shoved him, hard enough that he stumbled back a step. He looked surprised, then angry.
I got scared for a second he'd get violent with me but someone called his name from across the room and he wandered off, and I stood there shaking, my heart hammering against my ribs.
A group of people came into the kitchen and stood at the counter, passing around something that definitely wasn't weed. I caught a glimpse of the needle, the lighter, the way their eyes went glassy and distant.
One of them dumped a bag of white powder on the counter and asked for a key.
Someone handed them a credit card and they carefully lined the powder up.
Holy shit.
I needed air.
I needed out.
I pushed through the crowd toward the bathroom, locked myself inside, and sat on the edge of the tub with my head between my knees.
This was not the lowkey, chill party with super hot guys Tobi had promised.
This was not fun.
The room started spinning. I felt sick to my stomach. But not close to puking.
Yet.
I pulled out my phone. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely type so I called my brother instead.
He answered on the third ring. He sounded groggy. "Mer? It's like ten-thirty. What's wrong?"
"I need you to come get me." My voice cracked. I made a retching sound I didn't mean to. "I'm at a party and I drank some vodka and apparently they're doing crack or heroin or crack heroin out there and-"
"Jesus Christ, Meredith. Where are you?"
"Mason's party house."
"Mason-you mean Mason Cho? My Mason? The college guy?" His voice went sharp.
Why did he say college guy like I wasn't eighteen almost nineteen? I rolled my eyes.
"Yes, Dan."
"What the hell are you doing there? Do Mom and Dad know?"
"Of course not."
"Oh my fucking..."
"Please don't tell them. Please. I regret it now and I need to leave. Can you please just come get me?"
He was quiet for a long moment. I could hear him breathing, could picture him running his hand through his hair the way he always did when he was stressed. "You're so stupid," he finally said. "You know that? You're so fucking stupid, Meredith."
"I know."
"I should tell Mom and Dad. I should let you figure this out yourself."
"Please." I was crying now, real tears. "Please, I'm sorry. I'll never do it again. Just please come get me. Please. Please. Please. Please"
Another pause. Then: "Fine. I'm coming. But we're talking about this. You hear me? We're having a serious conversation about the choices you've making as of late."
"Okay. Thank you. Thank you so much. I love you, Dan. I love you. I love you. Iloveyouiloveiloveyou-"
"Shut up, little girl and stay inside. Don't drink or take anything else. I'll text you when I'm close."
"Okay."
"And Meredith?"
"Yes, Daniel?"
"I love you too, ladybug."
With that he hung up.
His text came at 10:55. *ill be there in 10 min.*
I stayed in the bathroom for as long as I could, but eventually someone started pounding on the door and crying about needing to take a shit and I had to leave.
I found a spot on the porch and tried to make myself invisible. The guy from earlier walked past me twice, but he didn't seem to recognize me. Or maybe he just didn't care.
I texted Tobi that I was outside and getting picked up.
She seen it but didn't respond.
Bitch.
It was 11:10 and there was still no sign of Dan's old black pickup truck.
Maybe he hit traffic. Maybe he stopped for gas.
Around 11:15, I went looking for Tobi. I needed her.
I pushed through the crowd, checking the kitchen, the living room, the back porch where people were smoking. Nothing.
I asked around and someone said they'd seen her go upstairs.
The second floor was quieter but not empty. Couples occupied most of the rooms, doors closed or cracked open just enough to see tangled limbs and hear moans. I walked down the hallway, checking each door, calling her name softly.
"Tobi? You up here?"
The last door at the end of the hall was barely open, light spilling out into the darkness. I heard her laugh-that high, manic giggle she got when she was really fucked up. Relief flooded through me. She was probably drinking and getting high on weed, her favorite drug of choice.
I pushed the door open.
"Tobi, I need to-"
The words died in my throat.
She was on the bed, naked except for her bra pushed up above her breasts. Mr. Hendricks, my old science teacher from junior year, was behind her, his hands gripping her hips, his face red and sweating. And in front of her, Mr. Carver-the history teacher who'd chaperoned prom last year-had his hand tangled in her hair, guiding her head.
What the fuck?
The smell hit me first. Sweat and sex and something chemical, maybe poppers or amyl nitrate. The room was too hot, too close. Tobi's eyes were glassy and unfocused, rolling back slightly. She didn't even notice me standing there.
I don't know why I was still standing there.
Mr. Hendricks looked up. Our eyes met. He didn't stop moving.
"Close the fucking door, Meredith." he grunted.
I stumbled backward, my hand finding the doorknob. Tobi made a sound-pleasure or pain, I couldn't tell-and Mr. Carver laughed, low and ugly.
I slammed the door shut and stood in the hallway, my back pressed against the wall, my heart hammering so hard I thought I might pass out. My hands were shaking. My whole body was shaking.
I ran down the hallway, downstairs, and out the door.
I checked the time. 11:23.
Where the fuck was Dan?
I wanted to walk home but that would be the umpteenth stupid thing I did tonight.
The party got louder as midnight approached.
Tobi came outside, without saying a word, grabbed my hand and pulled me to the living room.
I jerked my hand from hers, I didn't know where those fingers had been.
Well, yes I did.
Someone turned on the TV, found the ball drop in Times Square. People started counting down at 11:59, their voices a drunken roar that made my head pound.
"Ten! Nine! Eight!"
I checked my phone. Still nothing from Dan. It had been over an hour.
Motherfucker. He probably set me up. He was probably at our house right now waking Mom and Dad and having them come pick me up to embarrass me in front of everyone.
"Seven! Six! Five!"
"Four! Three! Two!"
My phone buzzed in my hand.
"ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
The room exploded in cheers and screams and the sound of champagne bottles popping. Couples kissed. Strangers hugged. Confetti fell from somewhere.
I looked down at my phone.
The text wasn't from my brother.
It was from my father.
*Your brother was in an accident. He got hit by a drunk driver. Come home now!*
The room kept spinning. People kept celebrating. Someone grabbed my shoulders and kissed me, tasting like cheap vodka and cigarettes.
But I barely registered it.
I stood there, phone in my hand, and watched my world end while everyone around me celebrated the new year.
