Cherry Bomb by Carmel Rhodes

Author:Carmel Rhodes [Rhodes, Carmel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: novel
Publisher: Carmel Rhodes
Published: 2019-08-27T16:00:00+00:00

Music pumps from behind the old wooden gate. I inhale, hike my shorts up, and fluff out my hair. Arden pouts beside me—she’s been pouting since Travis came to pick us up in his Civic. It’s the same one he drove in high school. As soon as my ass hit the fabric seats and the familiar scent of motor oil mixed with marijuana filled my nostrils, I allowed my body to relax. He smoked us out on the way to the liquor store. Arden and I sat in the back seat while he and his friend went to get the keg. I could feel the judgment radiating off her the entire time, but I ignored it. Ten minutes with Trav and I couldn’t feel my face. I’d looked forward to spending the rest of the day numbing other parts of my body too.

We follow them to the backyard. Immediately, I spot a girl I recognize from our graduating class. She’s perched on a lawn chair, wearing bikini bottoms and a Paramore t-shirt. “Cherry?” she says, her eyes glazed over.

“Oh, hey!” I say. “I haven’t seen you since…” I trail off hoping she takes it upon herself to fill in the gap. High school Cherry was obsessed with two things, her boyfriend and her computer, which didn’t leave much time to make new friends, and I don’t have a clue what her name is.

“Mrs. Linderman’s eighth period English,” she finishes for me.

“God, that class was brutal,” I say, thankful for the memory. I still don’t recognize the girl, but Mrs. Linderman is hard to forget.

“Anyway, I’m heading out,” she says to Trav. “Happy birthday.”

“It will be.” He smirks, dropping one arm around me and his other around Arden. I should be grossed out, or angry or jealous at the insulation, but I don’t give a fuck. I miss Cash and I’m devastated over my dad. Quite frankly, there isn’t any room left on my heart for another tear.

Arden glares up at him. Trav is hot, objectively speaking. He looks like a younger, douchier Adam Levine. Skinny, tatted, with a perpetual I’m better than you grin. I guess I have a type and maybe if it weren’t for his history of cheating and emotional abuse, I’d probably be down for whatever he thinks is happening here. But I’ve learned you can’t change the past, moreover, I don’t want to. I’m here to forget the present.

The party is more of a kickback, which is disappointing. I was hoping for a rager, one where I could get high and get lost in the crowd, but with Trav eye fucking me every five seconds, getting lost doesn’t seem like a plausible option.

In all, there are about twenty people at the party, most of them in or around the water. A few are playing cornhole deeper in the yard, and I’d be willing to bet at least one couple snuck into the house for a quickie. It’s like I entered a time machine. Nothing’s changed here.

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