A Cross-Country Christmas(54)

Free.

She’d only gone home because everyone else was going home. The dorms were closing, and what was she going to do on campus alone for an entire month?

It was her second night back when she was invited to a holiday party at Annabelle DeVore’s house. She wanted her classmates to see how well she was doing, that she’d blossomed (finally) and become more than just the bookish valedictorian they all thought they knew.

She walked in and spotted her friend Mai Li, who had also thrived being away, but who apparently was a lot more into partying than she had been when they were in high school.

Lauren was used to being the only sober person by the end of a night out with her friends, and she took her designated driver job very seriously. She supposed it shouldn’t be any different now—she really didn’t have any desire to make a complete fool of herself.

But when she walked in and saw Will standing next to the keg, she almost—almost—changed her mind.

He appeared to be a lot farther along in his alcohol consumption than just about everyone else in the room, and when he spotted her, he lifted both arms, spilling his drink. “Richmond!”

She waved back, and heard him say, “It’s Spencer’s little sister!”

The night wore on, and Lauren grew increasingly aware of Will, paying far more attention than she should’ve to where he was at all times.

He wasn’t just drunk—he was plastered. Wasted. In full-on self-destruct mode. If Spencer had been there, he would’ve known what to do, but he wasn’t due home until the following day. She was on her own.

And on her own with Will Sinclair was not a good place for her to be.

Around midnight, Will plopped down on the couch next to Lauren and wrapped an arm around her. “Can you give me a ride? I haff t’ go home now. I can’t stay here because this issin’t my house.”

She had seen this behavior before with her friends many, many times. She pulled back, speaking slowly. “Sure, Will. I’ve got my car.”

“This issin’t my house.” He paused, trying to focus on her face. “Can you take me home?” He paused, confused. “Did I just ask you that?”

At least he knew better than to drive.

“Yes. You did. I can take you, no problem.”

He pointed a wavy finger at her. “Ahhhh. . .Spencer’s little sister!”

She stood, pulled her purse up over her shoulder, and helped him to his feet. She made sure Mai Li had a safe way home, and finally, with some effort, and lots of stopping for him to high-five other guys at the party, they made it to her car.

Inside, Lauren felt the acute weight of his presence. She told herself this was nothing—she was practically the only sober person at that party—of course he would ask her for a ride home.

Lauren drove. She was looking straight ahead, but Will was looking at her. And his attention made her feel slightly intoxicated herself. She was that eleven-almost-twelve-year-old girl all over again, seeing him for the first time and imagining the day he finally—finally saw her as more than just his best friend’s dorky little sister.

Was that day finally here?

“You’re pretty, you know that?” He reached over and touched a strand of her hair.

“And you’re drunk.” She gently put his hand back on his side of the car. She really hoped he, and her heart, were both getting the message.

“I’m not. . .so out of it I can’t see someone who’s beautiful and right’n front of me,” he spoke with the effort of someone desperately trying to walk a straight line. He leaned back in the seat with a sigh. “I know what I see. Dussn’t mean I don’t know what I’m sayin’.”

She’d never been drunk, and she wondered if alcohol made you lie or if it made you more honest.

Lauren drove on, in tense silence, finally turning on his street. She parked her car in front of his house and avoided his eyes. “You’re home now.”

Silence stretched.

She finally risked a glance, but his eyes were closed. Was he snoring? She poked his shoulder. “Will?”

He stirred—barely—and she panicked. How was she going to get him out of her car?

“Will, you need to go in now.”

No response.

She groaned, opened the car door, and hurried around to the passenger side. She pulled his door open and he nearly fell out onto the pavement. She righted him, ignoring the fact that this was the closest she’d ever been to him in her life.

“Wow, you smell good.” He stuck his face in her hair and inhaled.

“We need to get you inside.”

“Okay, Spencer’s little sister. . .!” He said it like a secret.

She shushed him, as she helped him out of the car and to his feet. “You’re going to wake everyone up.”

He stuck a finger in front of his mouth and made a “shushing” noise, then chuckled to himself.

She looped an arm around his waist, and he draped an arm around her shoulders. He was significantly bigger than she was, but she managed to help him up the porch stairs. At the front door, she stopped. “Can you take it from here?”

He tipped forward and leaned his head against the siding.

So, that’s a no.

She peeked in the windows, but the lights were off. Everyone appeared to be in bed for the night.