“It won’t be too late when we get back. After we get your things in the house, would you like to do something?”
“I have plans with friends tonight,” she stated.
I was disappointed, but tried to not let her hear it in my voice. “Maybe another time then.”
“My friends are getting together on the beach. Why don’t you join us and you can meet them?”
“I don’t think so. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“Please come. It will be fun and you can leave if you’re not having a good time.” Her mood improved and she seemed to have Julian off of her mind, temporarily at least.
“Okay. I’ll go with you.”
* * *
“Granna, we’re back,” Chansey announced, as we entered the backdoor.
Anna emerged from the back of the house, surprised to see us back so quickly. “Well, that didn’t take very long. I didn’t expect you back until later this afternoon.”
Not wanting to worry her grandmother, Chansey didn’t mention the reason for our rushed return. “Well, I didn’t have a lot left at the apartment and Abby had packed a lot of my things already.”
“She is such a sweet girl.”
“Yeah. I’m going to miss living with her. Maybe she and I can find another apartment together in the fall.”
I knew it, but the thought hadn’t really crossed my mind. She would leave here and return to school at the end of the summer. I held the first of the boxes and asked, “Do you want me to put the boxes in your room?”
Before Chansey could answer, Anna suggested, “Why don’t you put everything in my studio? You don’t need any of it until you get another apartment.”
Chansey replied, “That’ll work. It’s just going to be a mess in my way if we put it in my room.”
“Do you want me to put everything against the wall, so it will be out of your way?” I asked.
“That will be perfect, Curry. I don’t know what we did around here without you,” Anna replied, with that familiar grin on her face.
Chapter 10
We finished moving Chansey’s things inside and she needed a few minutes to get ready before we met her friends at the beach. I arrived at seven, as directed by Chansey, and she met me at the door before I had the opportunity to knock. She was wearing a hot pink sundress with a thin, white sweater and each side of her hair was twisted away from her face. The twists of hair met in a decorative barrette, just below her crown, while loose tendrils framed her angelic face. I wanted to tell her how lovely she looked, and hard as I tried, I couldn’t muster up the courage.
We crossed the street to where a small crowd was gathered on the beach and Chansey introduced me to her group of friends as they all shook my hand and voiced how glad they were to meet me. Eventually, Chansey migrated off with some of the girls and I was forced to talk to the guys without her. I found I shared many common interests with a guy named Drew. He was an art major and was very interested in the work I did. While we discussed the future of graphics, I saw a familiar face, Chansey’s friend from the nursery where we bought Grady’s flowers.
I watched him as he moved toward Chansey and the group of friends she stood beside, although I was careful to not allow him to see my interest in him or his actions toward the girl I arrived with. My eyes remained turned away from them, but I watched every movement with my peripheral vision. Their interaction was similar to the previous one they shared, with one exception. He initiated all physical contact, as they spoke, and Chansey didn’t reciprocate any of his gestures. After a few minutes, I heard her tell him, “Come meet my friend, Curry.” I didn’t turn to look at them until I felt her hand on my arm.
“Curry, this is my friend, Crosby Hendrix,” she introduced. I removed my hand from the pocket of my khaki shorts and extended it to him, while he sized me up. Yes, he definitely liked her, which meant he didn’t like me being here with her. I waited for him to take my hand, and was close to withdrawing it, when he finally reached and took it in a shake a little too firm to be considered friendly.
Chansey appeared bewildered by her friend’s display of unfriendliness. “I’m gonna grab a cold one. Anybody else in need?” he asked, then turned to me and added, “What about you? You seem a little tense.” He was trying to make me look a fool in front of Chansey and their friends. It was a juvenile attempt, so I declined his challenge.
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
He walked to the keg and Chansey whispered, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why Crosby is acting so weird. He’s not normally like that.”
“It’s okay. I think I know what’s going on and I can’t say I blame him.”
She didn’t have time to ask for my explanation before Crosby returned and handed a foamy, cold beer in my direction. “Here, have a drink on me. It might help you loosen up some.”
“Crosby, he said he didn’t want it,” she said, obviously annoyed at her friend’s aggressive behavior.
“I think I changed my mind. Thanks,” I said, as I reached and took the red plastic cup from his hand. I knew his intentions and if he wanted to challenge me to a drinking contest, that keg couldn’t hold enough alcohol to get me drunk.
He held his cup out for a toast. “To a good time.” I lightly tapped my glass against his and began the challenge he initiated, the one he would regret.
The beach became more populated with Chansey’s friends over the next couple of hours and Crosby didn’t refill his glass without making certain I did too. The beer he pushed on me helped relax me and it contributed to the great time I was having, but Crosby wasn’t having quite the same experience. He was drunk and became rather belligerent when his friends suggested he slow down. I hoped he would pass out before he started a fight with me because I could feel it coming.
Another hour passed and I regretted my acceptance of Crosby’s childish challenge as his belligerence intensified and he began to ruin the good time for everyone, especially Chansey. I felt partly responsible for his poor behavior because he had no idea he had challenged someone incapable of losing.
He returned with another beer for me and slurred, “You ready for another one because I’m one upping ya.”
“I think I’ll pass this time, but thanks anyway.”
“Wuss!” he shouted.
“Crosby, what are you trying to do?” Chansey asked.
“I’m showing you he’s a wuss and you shouldn’t be here with him,” he clamored as he stumbled backwards. His vehemence earned him everyone’s attention and sympathetic eyes fell upon us.
He stumbled around, using anyone in close contact to hold himself up. I should have been more responsible, but I liked the prospect of making Crosby look like an ass in front of Chansey. Mission accomplished. The mature 187 year-old in me felt pity for the young stallion, so I asked Chansey, “Do you want me to speak to him?”
“No, I don’t think your words would be well received right now, considering you just drank him under the table. Let me see if I can persuade him to stop drinking and go home.”
She walked over to Crosby and pleaded with him to stop drinking, th
en asked him to allow someone to drive him home.
“I’ll let you take me home,” he slurred as he reached out and grabbed Chansey around the waist a little too roughly.
She looked at me and saw the anger on my face, but her eyes begged me to wait, to give her another try at talking sense into her friend. She pushed away from him and made a second attempt at talking him down. “Crosby, you’re not acting like yourself because you’re drunk. Please, let someone take you home.”
“I thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend,” he accused.
“He isn’t my boyfriend,” she replied.
“Then, I guess that means you’re available,” he said, as he reached out and pulled her forcibly against himself. He planted a brutal kiss on her mouth while she struggled to be free of him. Enough was enough and it was past time for me to intercede. As I stepped toward Crosby and Chansey, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was my new friend, Drew, and he said, “Let me. He’s my brother and I should not have let it get to this point.”
Drew approached Crosby and said, “Okay, little brother. I think you’ve had enough to drink.”
“I’ll decide when I’ve had enough,” he slurred.
Drew loosened Crosby’s hold on Chansey and said, “I don’t think so. It’s time for you to go.” He grabbed him forcefully and began to steer him toward the spot where everyone parked their vehicles.
As Drew marched him past me, he slurred, “What are you looking at, punk?”
I didn’t dignify his question with an answer, which angered him further. As I was walking toward Chansey, I heard the rustling of Crosby breaking free of his brother’s hold and knew he was coming for me. I could have turned and had him to the ground before his brain told his hand to make a fist, but I couldn’t display that kind of speed. I turned, just in time, for his first punch to catch the edge of my jaw and when I didn’t retaliate, he got a second punch to my mouth before Drew wrestled him to the ground.
Of course it didn’t hurt, but I placed my hand to my mouth, a natural human reaction. I drew my hand away from my mouth and inspected it for blood, seeing a smear of bright red blood that didn’t belong to me. Crosby had busted his knuckles with his first punch, then smeared his blood across my mouth when his bloody knuckles made contact during his second punch.