Make Me Bad

Colten came over to eat dinner at the house after I got home from the library. Though I normally try to cook healthy options for my dad, I decided tonight it was better to strategize. I prepared lasagna and fresh garlic bread. I made sure there was a chilled beer waiting for each of them on the table. Also, I pulled Scrabble off the shelf in the hall closet—Colten’s game of choice. We hadn’t been playing for long when he warned us that he wouldn’t be able to stay too late because he had plans. I’d known that moment was coming. I’d thought about it nonstop during dinner. It was why the lasagna was slightly burned and why I was losing so badly at Scrabble (a game I usually won handily).

If I wanted Colten to take me with him to the party, I had to be careful and play it just right.

For starters, I had to sound casual when I asked him where he was headed. Still, he knew right away that something was up. I don’t usually ask about his social life. Even though he’s only a few years older than me, we don’t ever go out together. He never invites me, and I’ve never been brave enough to ask for an invite.

Until now.

“Jake’s party?” I asked, rearranging my Scrabble tiles.

“How’d you know about that?” he asked, frowning.

I tried to seem as if I was concentrating hard on the strategy of the game rather than the strategy of my reply. “My friend at work mentioned it.”

I even added a half-hearted shrug for emphasis.

He seemed skeptical. “Eli?”

“No, someone else. Anyway, I was thinking of going.”

He and my dad studied me intently from across the table. This cavalier suggestion that I would attend the party wasn’t just out of character for me, it was as if aliens had infiltrated my body and were now using me as a human proxy.

“Think that’s a good idea, kiddo?” my dad asked, sipping his coffee.

I ground my teeth together in annoyance. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Colten played his turn and then replied, “Dad’s right. That sort of scene isn’t the right place for you, Maddie. I’ll take you another time. Hey, Cassie is getting a few people together to go to the Astros game next weekend. Want to come with us?”

A baseball game, really? Was he also going to buy me a little stuffed animal and some ice cream too? He was casting me aside. They both were. I was used to them handling me with kid gloves since they’d done it my whole life, but surely this was taking it too far.

“I’d like to go to the party,” I said, glancing up at Colten and making sure my features didn’t seem overly eager. “It could be fun.”

He and my dad exchanged a worried glance. They were about to forbid me from going, as if I still had to abide by their rules at twenty-five years old.

“I’m going, Colten,” I said, suddenly shooting to my feet and accidentally knocking my hip into the table. My Scrabble tiles went flying and my dad’s coffee lapped over the edge of his mug. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I hadn’t caused a scene on purpose, but it still left me looking like a petulant child.

“Fine, Maddie. I’ll take you, but we’re only going to stay for a little while. I have an early shift tomorrow.”

I should have told him that didn’t matter. I didn’t have work in the morning. I could stay at the party as long as I wanted, but I was getting my way, and I didn’t think I needed to push my luck.

I have a complicated relationship with my family. My mom passed away soon after I was born from hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, which is a fancy name for a heart problem no one even knew about, so it’s only ever been the three of us: my dad, Colten, and me. My brother was already six when I was born, and he was fiercely protective even then. Apparently, when we would go to the playground as kids, he’d hold my hand and help me up the stairs and down the slide. He wouldn’t let bigger kids get within ten feet of me and always made sure everyone knew he was my big brother, there to defend me if anyone got in my way.

In my eyes, I had an idyllic childhood. My dad took Colten and me fishing and camping and hiking. I was outside most of summer and by the end, when school would start up again, I’d have calloused feet, a smattering of freckles across my cheeks, and a few new scars to show off to my friends.

Looking back, I’m not sure when my relationship with them became stifling, but I can see the wrong turns I took. I didn’t move out when I was eighteen. I stayed home and commuted to college. After I got my degree, Dad had just had a mild stroke. It was nothing major, but I didn’t feel comfortable leaving him alone in the house, so I stayed. My dad hasn’t had another stroke in three years, but I still live in my childhood bedroom. I’m under my dad’s thumb and Colten’s protective shield. They mean well. They love me as fiercely as I love them, but it can’t continue like this.

Something has to change, starting tonight.

The party is a little more packed than I expected it to be. Full of beautiful people dressed to the nines, the house is also a lot nicer than I expected. When I heard it was a house party, I pictured plastic red cups and beer pong in someone’s dingy basement. I forget sometimes how high the wealth soars in Clifton Cove. Jake’s house looks like he pulled it right out of the pages of Architectural Digest. It’s metal and glass and hard lines, all designed to showcase the breathtaking views of the water. The sun has already set, but the moon is high and full enough to illuminate the lapping waves crashing on the shore a few yards beyond his house.

He’s done well for himself. My brother told me on the way over that Jake manages a hedge fund. With that on top of his family money, it seems he’ll never want for anything in life. I wonder what that would feel like.

We’re still hovering near the door. My brother, while not exactly touching me, is still making it perfectly clear that he wants me to stay by his side. I might as well have a collar around my neck. He keeps glancing over at me, making sure I’m doing okay. We’re standing in a circle of his friends as they talk about things I really don’t care about. Someone offers me a drink, and Colten chastises him.

His friend laughs. “Last I checked, she’s not a little kid anymore, Colt.”

My brother shrugs off his remark and turns to me, giving in. “You want something to drink, Maddie? I’ll get it for you.”

I look down at the beer in his hand and scrunch my nose. I don’t drink alcohol all that often, but I know enough to pass on the cheap stuff. A few of the women are carrying around flutes of champagne. It feels wildly ridiculous in a setting like this, but then I realize maybe it fits perfectly and the only thing out of place is me.

“I’ll take some champagne,” I say, smiling.

Colten’s friend, Ryan, jumps into action. “I’ll go get you some, Madison.”

“Just bring the bottle,” Colten demands, catching my eye once again. “Never let a guy fix you a drink unless you watch him do it, even Ryan.”

“I heard that, you asshole,” Ryan shouts over his shoulder.

Colten and his friends lapse back into talk about the Astros’ early season, and I give myself the first opportunity to glance around the party and look for Ben. I’m disappointed he hasn’t approached me yet. I wanted him to be pacing at the door, wild with anxiety over whether or not I’d make an appearance tonight.

Of course that’s not the case. It doesn’t take me long to find him. All I have to do is follow the line of adoring fans, the sycophants waiting anxiously for their turn to talk to the king.

He’s dangerously attractive tonight in a white shirt underneath an army green fatigue jacket. His dark jeans and brown suede boots are so effortlessly cool. Of course the whole outfit only works so well because of his tall frame and broad shoulders. His thick hair is styled back away from his face, and his features are more severe than they’ve ever seemed before. I study him intently, realizing I’ve never had the chance to observe him like this. He has a face for fury, an underlying arrogance that could cut straight through you if he wanted it to. His only saving grace is the light amber color of his eyes. They soften him. A little.

His circle of friends makes up the epicenter of the party. While the women here are all beautifully made up, the ones surrounding him are the glitziest of the bunch. Their dresses are daring and hug their tantalizing figures perfectly. I watch two of them edge closer to him, vying for his attention at the exact moment his gaze finally lifts to meet mine. He doesn’t look surprised in the least. In fact, it’s like he’s been aware I was watching him this whole time. If I had any sense, I’d look away now, but it’s like he has me on the end of his hook, caught.

One of his brows rises gently. There’s no smile or wave to accompany it.

I turn away right when Ryan returns with the bottle of champagne and uncorks it ceremoniously in the middle of our group. Everyone cheers and I know Ben is still glancing over here, watching—or maybe I’m just hoping he is. Ryan pours a hefty amount of champagne into a plastic cup for me. I guess I don’t seem fancy enough for a crystal flute.

“Cheers to Madison and Colt,” he says, and another friend chimes in, “He finally let her out of the house for a change!”

Everyone laughs good-naturedly, even Colten. I make a show of smiling even though it hurts to be the butt of the joke. We tap our cups and glasses together and then I take a gulp of champagne, aware of how badly in need of the liquid courage I am. Colten’s hand hits my arm and his reproaching glare sends a fissure of annoyance through me.