On My Way To Mr. Right

Chapter 53

“1, 2, 3!”

“Ouch!” Charles screams in pain, waking up with his leg over his head.

“It was an accident, I swear!” I shouted in defense before anyone could blame me.

We were loading off the giant who slept through the evening into his house, trying our very best to be quiet. We were far too young to be drinking. His parents were overly religious people, they’d probably suspend Charles’ driving license and car use if they found out he was wasted out of his mind tonight.

“Dang it, Lottie. I told you to be careful.” James whisper-shouts at me.

He carried the lower half of Charles' body as the insolent creature refused to stand up to walk anymore. Beatrice fumbled for Charles’ keys in his pockets, which made me struggle to hold him still, causing the accidental head bump on the pavement.

“Get it dang together, B,” I hissed.

“His pants are too tight. Just wait, will you?”

So, we stood there in Dwyer’s driveway, holding one of their sons by the ends of his body, trying to find his goddamn keys in his pants.

“Beatrice, hurry up,” I hissed again, as if that would make her find the keys any faster.

She glares at me but I nudged Charles’ head towards her to tell her ‘whatever.’

While we were all busy and quite captivated with Charles’ ability to sleep through all this, suddenly, a bright light blinds us.

“What are you doofuses doing?” A high-pitched voice growls. But with the flashlight blinding us, we couldn’t see who it was. He held a very powerful device there.

“Who are you?” James retorted, obviously over and done with the situation. I might as well have driven the Ferrari because there was no way I was sleeping immediately when I got home after all this commotion.

Being questioned like that, the man lowers his blinding power. It took some time for my eyes to adjust to the immediate light change.

“Butch,” James acknowledged the surprising man. I looked up to see Butch in a tux, with a growl and paws ready to pounce. Why was he so mad?

“Is that Charles?” He asks, coming closer to us, and flicking off Charles’ arm that covered half of his face.

“What did you do to him?” He spits out, maybe in disgust, maybe in disappointment.

“Nothing. He got drunk on his own. His nerd friends were handing him drinks all night,” I answered in a rush.

It was very late and I wasn’t thinking very clearly. Maybe I should have lied. Charles wouldn’t appreciate being thrown under the bus like that. Although, I wasn’t so sure, seeing as we weren’t even on the same bus and his ass was asleep.

“Damn, how did dad raise such a wuss,” Butch observes. In all fairness, Charles looked like a raggedy doll. No life, no words, no mind. “How many did he drink?”

I turned to B, as she was the one who probably saw it all. She shrugs, unsure.

“About 10 shots, maybe. It all happened too fast. Those nerds were jerks.”

“That’s not too bad,” Butch laughs.

As much as we appreciated the humor, it was nearing 12. I was more than freaking exhausted. I can barely carry Charles in those heels. I did not have time for Butch’s funny stories.

Apparently, James felt the same but with much more conviction and vocalization.

“Butch, we’re sorry for bringing him home like this. But it’s really late, and we’d appreciate it if you gave us a hand on the door, if possible,” James pleads politely.

Butch was a senior known for his bullying antics. We didn’t cross paths much because we were in different buildings, but when we did, he was always kind enough to offer a word or two. It didn’t make much sense really. But Charles never once complained of being bullied by his older brother. When Butch’s name was mentioned in a conversation, it was always about what Butch liked and what Butch knew. He could brag all day long about his brother’s talent and skills. And we never really got that because we knew people in our classes that were personally being terrorized by Butch and the jocks. Charles didn’t acknowledge those either.

But tonight, we got to see his bully side, for sure.

“Nah, you guys can handle that. I was just making sure no one was robbing our house,” he answers nonchalantly, and started to walk away from us.

We were all pretty annoyed and tired by that time. Even B went a little out of her comfort zone to hurry up.

“Well, we are going to rob it if you don’t freaking help us with your brother,” she calls out to Butch, making him stop halfway.

“No, you won’t.”

Butch turns around, smirking at us.

“Try me.”

“My parents will take care of you and that wuss.”

“We’re going to tell your parents that you didn’t even bother to help your little brother. You just left him out in the cold. What do you think they’ll do to you?” B threatened, not backing out without a fight.

It was unbelievable to fight a senior, most especially for B. But damn, if these two could just hurry it up a notch.

“Who do you think they’ll believe? Their drunk kids or the sober friends who tried their best to help their friend?” B continues.

Butch was silenced. He didn’t respond immediately, but his face initially displayed an irked emotion. After a while, he smiled smugly and stared at Beatrice as he fumbled for his keys from his pants and opened the door for us.

Thank goodness.

“I knew you were the best brother ever,” B teases. I nudged her by the elbow, refusing mentally any physical contact or blow she might receive from the big bully who she teased so frequently.

“Don’t get me started, Baxter. You’re on extremely thin ice with me tonight,” Butch replied blankly.

He led us up to Charles' room, which was on the second floor of their house. Stupid stairs. Jerk didn’t even try to help us carry this 150 pound meat.

“You can handle him, right?” he asks, but doesn’t even wait for our resounding ‘no’ before rushing out of the house again.

“I think it’s safe to establish his brother’s a bully, right?” Beatrice muttered.

“Yeah, but what you did was brave.”

“Or really stupid.” James interjects, to which Beatrice rolls her eyes.

“I just really wanted to get home,” she retorts, ignoring James’ remark.

“I know, sweetie. I know,” I sympathized. “Damn this jerk for getting drunk. Didn’t even bother to invite us to the fun so we wouldn’t have had to carry his ass,” I whined.

“Yes, and we would have slept on the grass on the field by now. Wouldn’t that be a great improvement to this predicament?” James smiled sarcastically at me. What was his problem?

“What’s wrong with you?”

“What?” He answers, playing dumb with me.

Ain’t nobody playing dumb with me tonight, babe. You picked the wrong goddamn night to let your wild howls unleash. I was not in the mood to deal with his drama. And seeing the night was almost perfect, I could not ruin our magic bubble, either.

I let it slide. His apprehensiveness since we left the field was remarkable and astounding, but James was James. He was kind of a wreck at processing emotions.

“Nothing,” I smiled at him.

We finally reached Charles’ room and plop him down the bed. Damn, we didn’t think we could physically do it. His heavy ass was the workout I definitely tried to avoid all summer.

“We should hurry on home. Lottie, I promised your parents you’d be home before midnight,” James sighed, plopping himself beside the heavy weight load of problems.

“Oh, did you now?”

I failed to grasp my tongue before letting out my sarcastic remark, to which he raised an eyebrow.

“Is something wrong with you? You’ve been really mean tonight. A little anxious,” he observes.

That made me chuckle. Horrendously chuckle. He had the gall to assume I was anxious and mean, while here he was throwing sarcastic replies at everyone out of nowhere. I’m pretty sure everyone is anxious tonight considering it was almost midnight and we still had a long way to get home.

I haven’t even brought up B’s parents. They’ll kill her for sure if she goes home late again.

But I don’t bring it up. I didn’t have the energy to argue. This was a rather nice evening and I’d rather not have it ruined anymore than it already was for me.

“All right,” B stands up visibly, with her last drops of energy and heads out the door. “We should head on out, guys.”

“Goodnight, you big baby,” I slapped Charles’ thigh gently as we left, which made a whiny noise from him.