Cocaine Hearts

Chapter 4

The drive home with Brandon turned out to be quite pleasant. I was relieved that he didn't pester me with any more questions about Dallas, allowing me to relax a bit. I subtly provided him with directions to my house, and as we cruised along, the soft tunes of Breaking Benjamin played on the radio. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that we shared the same taste in music.

"You like rock music?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Um... No, actually, I can't stand it, but it seemed like a station you would enjoy," he admitted sheepishly.

"Oh, thank you," I replied, feeling a bit taken aback by his considerate gesture.

Finally, we arrived at my house, and Brandon flashed a warm smile, wishing me a good night as I stepped out of the car. It was strange to receive a ride home from a guy who wasn't trying to initiate anything romantic. As I opened the front door, I noticed Martin in the kitchen, already busy preparing dinner.

"Hey Miya!" Martin's voice echoed through the house as I walked in. "How did your first day back go?"

I turned toward the sound of his voice and almost burst into laughter. There he was, all six feet of him, moving around our minuscule kitchen garbed in an apron, an oversized white chef hat, and oven mitts. Martin was a hulk of a man, built like a linebacker, yet there he was, looking like my grandmother on a festive holiday morning.

"Hey, don't laugh," he retorted, feigning offense. "The mitts protect me from burns, and the apron shields my clothes from spills."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "And the hat?"

"Well, that's just for the style!" he quipped.

His joke was the catalyst, and I burst into laughter, with Martin joining in the contagious mirth. I tossed my backpack onto the couch and made my way to the kitchen table. "The day was alright, I managed to avoid hotboxing any bathrooms," I joked. "What's cooking?"

"Just some enchiladas for dinner," he responded, sliding the tray into the oven and peeling off his mitts. When Martin said 'nothing fancy,' it usually meant a meal that could rival any restaurant's culinary delights. He was an exceptional cook. "Your mom should be back shortly."

I responded with a sarcastic "Yay" and an exaggerated eye roll.

"Your mother has done a lot for you. Could you at least try to be nice to her?"

"I have been, ever since the incident last year. But she can be so overbearing sometimes, it's not easy to deal with," I replied nonchalantly, a pang of guilt hitting me because I knew Martin was right. My mom, Jenna, was an accomplished cocktail waitress in LA, and she constantly put aside a large chunk of her earnings for my "college fund." Despite my persistent insistence that I had no plans to attend college, she remained adamant. It was an ongoing battle of wills, and one that I was determined to win, come hell or high water.

I gathered my belongings and expressed my gratitude to Martin for preparing dinner, a genuine effort on my part to be kinder to them this year. When my mom first introduced us, I had been so cruel to him, but now that I knew him, a twinge of guilt crept in. Almost. Once I was safely in the solitude of my room, a small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. I was genuinely happy that my mom had found someone nice, someone who still existed out there.

The week flew by quickly, and I was proud of myself for staying on top of my homework and managing to avoid getting into any trouble. Initially, it was challenging to ignore Dallas, who seemed to constantly seek my attention. However, by Thursday and Friday, he finally seemed to be leaving me alone. Now, I was free from school for the weekend, and as usual, I would be spending it at Ashley's place.

"I can't believe you actually invited Brandon to the bonfire tonight," Ashley exclaimed as she sat on her bedroom floor, curling her hair in front of a large mirror.

"Why not?" I responded. "He's really nice, and I actually enjoy being his lab partner in science."

"Do you have feelings for him?" she teased, wiggling her eyebrows at me. I playfully threw a pillow at her from my spot on the bed.

"No, of course not. We're just friends. Besides, he's too much of a goody-goody for my taste."

"Fair enough," she conceded, returning to her hair-curling task. She knew that preppy jock boys were not my type at all. Unfortunately, I tended to be drawn to the douchebags like Dallas.

I simply didn't gravitate towards "good" guys, and Brandon was the complete opposite of my usual type. He was undeniably attractive, but he excelled academically, played football, and was constantly surrounded by cheerleaders and jocks. They were the kind of people I preferred to avoid in high school. I was almost certain that I wasn't his type either.

It was undeniable that I enjoyed being Brandon's lab partner. He possessed an exceptional level of intelligence and had a knack for explaining complex concepts in a way that made them accessible to me. Considering my usual struggles with math and science, his ability to simplify things was a breath of fresh air. Surprisingly, he also had a great sense of humor, which I hadn't initially expected. When we first met, he came across as more serious, but given the circumstances, I understood why. Gradually, he was becoming a genuine friend.

We hurried to get ready for the bonfire, and I opted for a little black dress that accentuated my cleavage, fishnet leggings, and my favorite knee-high black boots. Ashley, on the other hand, chose a simpler outfit consisting of shorts and a plain black tank top. Every year, she hosted a grand bonfire party in the woods behind her house. Well, technically, it was only the second year since we were only sophomores, but our plan was to make it an annual tradition. Zeke arrived just as we finished getting ready and assisted us in loading his truck with camping gear, lawn chairs, ice chests filled with drinks and snacks, and our duffle bags, ensuring we were prepared for the possibility of staying the entire weekend. Lastly, we packed Ashley's mom's large speaker from the garage, and we were ready to set up.

Ashley sat up front with her boyfriend, and I positioned myself in the back of the truck alongside all the supplies. We ventured onto the dirt road behind Ashley's house and into the woods, almost reaching the clearing where we would set up the bonfire, tents, and chairs. I felt a surge of excitement, knowing that many people had agreed to attend, and hoping we had managed to keep the event a secret from Dallas as well. He had been my date to the bonfire last year, right after we started dating, but that was before everything went sour.

With that thought in mind, I pushed my ex-boyfriend out of my head and eagerly jumped out of the truck bed to help with the setup. Thankfully, we still had a couple of hours of daylight left, allowing us to arrange the camping area and engage in some pregame activities. Ashley and I settled into lawn chairs, enjoying a joint and sipping on beers as we observed Zeke taking charge of the majority of the setup. I jokingly mentioned to Ashley that boys must be good for something other than annoying and causing tears, to which she chuckled, fully aware of my jest. Zeke was a great match for her, and I genuinely liked him. Initially, I wasn't too keen on him because he embodied the redneck persona inside and out, but his affection for Ashley outweighed everything else. Moreover, the more I witnessed them together, the more endearing they appeared as a couple.

Finally, after hours of anticipation, cars and trucks began flooding into the area, surpassing the number of attendees from the previous year, which was quite an achievement. I even noticed a few seniors at the party, a significant occurrence. It seemed like everyone had brought camping gear, extra alcohol, and drugs, a considerate gesture on their part. I tried my best not to stumble through the crowd, but the buzz from drinking with Ashley throughout the evening had already taken its toll. I navigated through the sea of people, hoping to catch a glimpse of Brandon, but he was nowhere to be found. Lost in my search, paying little attention to my surroundings, I accidentally collided with someone, causing my beer to spill all over their chest.

"Oh my gosh, I am so—" I began to apologize before looking up and realizing it was Dallas standing before me.