All Of Me

2

I climbed into my car, and waved at Paige as I drove past her. I was a little ashamed of my behavior last night as I walked into school. I've never been "that girl" that gets drunk at a party and sleeps it off in some random bedroom.

Me, of all people, know the effects alcohol can have on a person, and the people around them. I shook my head as I walked to Liturature and took my seat in the back. Mr. Addison was halfway through his lecture before my mind started to drift to what Sarah and Kim asked me at the party last night.

Did I have feelings for Tripp? No. I mean, he's attractive. Any girl would think that, just a friend or not. He was there for me when my father died, and he's been there ever since. If anything I'm attached to Tripp.

We're close, but it's never been in that sibling way that most guy-girl friendships are. We're just friends and that's it. We've never even discussed anything other than that.

And even if I did have feelings for Tripp, he wouldn't date me. Not when he's got the entire female high school population gawking at him.

I've always been a little confused as to why he doesn't date. I even asked him once if he was gay.

I ended the conversation in my mind by reassuring myself that there weren't feelings there for Tripp. By the time I headed to my last class of the day, I was feeling much better, and vowed to never take another drink of alcohol in my life.

The halls were empty as I made my way down the hall to my last class. I stopped when I heard a whistle from behind me. I turned to see Tripp waving me toward him. I glanced at the clock and I was already late for class. I would just make this quick.

"Wanna go get some ice cream?" He smiled; a bright white smile against his tan skin. "This is my last class." I gesture behind me. "Skip it." He says. I shake my head quickly. "I can't do that..." He laughs at me. "Come on. Are they gonna give you detention? It's the last three weeks." I glance at my class, then back at Tripp.

"Come on, Brookie." He uses his pouty voice, and calls me that nickname I hate. "Every senior is entitled to a few skips." He winks. I laugh and shake my head. "Fine." I agree. He can be so convincing.

Following him out of the school and to his little blue truck. We both hop in and he turns the radio on. Some new country song fills the cab as he backs out of the parking space and we head for the ice cream shop downtown, Creamsicles.

"Aren't you done with all of your work anyway?" Tripp asks, and I take in what he's wearing. Khaki shorts, a blue tank top, and sneakers. His hair is messy, but short enough that it can be messy and still look good. He's not a bad looking guy.

"Mostly. Just two more tests. Luckily neither were in the class I just skipped!" I shove his shoulder and we both laugh.

My singing is less than average, so I just listen to Tripp singing along with the radio as we get closer to the small part of town where Creamsicles is in the middle of buildings that would remind you of something out of a small town Hallmark movie. Brick sidewalks and little awnings hang over tiny brightly colored buildings.

Creamsicles is the little blue brick building between Harry's Hardware and Second Time Around thrift store. A white table for two sits outside Creamsicles, and today's special is written in white shoe polish on the large bay window.

Tripp parked across the little town street and we crossed it to Creamsicles. I immediately regretted it when I saw Chelsea and Josh in line for ice cream.

The bell over the door rang, indicating a new customer and Chelsea turned to see us. My heart began to race. Embarrassed from last night events, I was sure my face was glowing red.

She tapped Josh's arm and said something before he turned and smiled at us. Josh was always friendly, I honestly don't know how Chelsea is his kin.

He looks about like Tripp. Only jeans instead of shorts. They're built about the same, only I've never seen Josh in shorts my whole four years at Fairview High. Always jeans.

Chelsea however was always perfect, from her perfect platinum hair, to her perfectly pedicured toenails. She's a cheerleader, and petite. Which all the guys love.

Her dress today was distastefully short, and her heels were enormous. She always looked like she was trying so hard. But she was still beautiful.

We got in line behind a young mother and her screaming toddler and I scrolled the most recent social network on my phone, trying to tune out the child's tantrum.

Chelsea and Josh sat down by the window and ate their ice cream and scrolled their cell phones while the kid with the strong set of lungs finally got his ice cream.

Tripp and I ordered and I made eye contact with Chelsea. I smiled, and she looked at me like I disgust her. I thought maybe drinking with her last night would help me gain some ground, but whatever ground I was gaining was probably lost when I fell into the pool and passed out drunk in her bedroom.

Tripp got our ice cream and we sat down at a table across from Chelsea and Josh. My phone went off and I picked it up and read the text message from my mother.

"Be home by seven, dinner with Brian." I groan inwardly. And apparently outwardly as well.

"What's wrong?" Tripp's question is distorted and sounds more like "wuths wong" through his giant bite of ice cream.

"Brian's coming for dinner tonight. Shoot me, please." I take a bite of my ice cream, but my appetite has suddenly lessened now that I know I have to spend the evening with my mothers less than sunshine-y boyfriend.

He owns several banks, and treats my mother well from what I can tell. There's just something about the man I don't like.

He never has much to say to me or Paige, and he's always dressed in a suit. I've never seen the man dressed comfortably.

He takes my mom to all sorts of fancy restaurants and parties, but never anywhere to have a good time.

Tripp is laughing as he shoves another bite of cookie dough goodness into his mouth. "I fail to find the humor." I say flatly and roll my eyes.

"Ya know Brookie, I bet he would like you more if you were a little sweeter." I am offended by his words and lick ice cream off my spoon. "I am plenty nice." I retort. "No, even sweeter than that..." He sounds suspicious.

He dips his finger into his ice cream and smears it all over my nose. "Tripp!" I gasp, his laughter filling the small shop. "Brooke! He mocks me.

I smear a spoon full on his cheek when he turns his head and amidst our laughter I didn't notice Josh and Chelsea had walked over.

He was laughing and wiping the vanilla off his face with one hand and bumping his knuckles into Josh's with the other.

Please don't bring up last night...

"Last night was fun! Never seen that side of you before, Brooke." Of course. Oh god, what did I do? I just laughed as if I remembered exactly what he was talking about.

I refused his offer to come to the graduation party in three weeks, and Chelsea stands quietly beside him examining her cuticles.

Josh and Tripp say their goodbyes and Chelsea looks Tripp and I both up and down, and leaves behind Josh without a word. Without a change of expression, really. Just pure disgust. I think I'd rather her at least pretend to be a nice person like before.