Slurred Lines

“No! There is no fighting this. You’re doing shots with me whether you want to or not. It’s time my niece loosens up and gets laid. It’s New Year’s, for fuck sake. You need to ring it in the banging way,” Brandy ordered Peyton while practically dragging her over to the bar. That’s when a redhead opened her mouth also to protest. “And you can shut your mouth, too. This is your penance for playing that fucking song!”

“Yeah, Mom. We’re going to get you and my repressed bestie drunk,” Lana proclaimed.

Those words earned a middle-finger response from the latter.

The younger redhead had already begun the process of handing out the shots. Lana had gathered Poppy and Steph from her hometown friends–Priscilla and Merritt wisely snuck off–and Kiki and Zaylie from her college crew. Only Lauren joined from Rachel’s group, as she mentioned that Gabby was going off to find Jared.

“Hey! What happened to Wrenn and Darla?” Brandy questioned, noticing two of her oldest friends had vanished on the way to the bar.

“What do you think happened?” Fawn asked, rolling her eyes.

Since grade school, Darla had always avoided Brandy's shenanigans, which helped keep her out of their trio and made her more of their Fourth Musketeer. And Wrenn used her husband as an excuse to avoid more liquor.

“Bunch of pussies,” Brandy condemned.

“I’m only doing one shot,” Rachel declared. Immediately, Peyton said the same.

“Don’t even start with me, Boobs McGee! You know how much I hate that damn song,” the ringleader repeated.

“Hey, that’s what Pey calls me when she gets really pissed,” Lana exclaimed. “Wait, did you copy that from your aunt? Oh, I’m so disappointed with your lack of originality.”

“Why? It’s so cool that you have a song just for you,” Steph said. She’d continued right past Peyton’s shaking head. “You’d be the star of every party when they played it. I wish I had a song with my name.”

"They do, but it's kinda boring," Fawn revealed. But unfortunately, her quiet reply was drowned out by Brandy's bombastic retort.

"It's not fucking cool! Imagine having that played at every fricking party when everyone knows you hate its damn lyrics. Oh, let's laugh at the part about Brandy making a good wife. I've heard that shit for more than fifteen years. And it got worse once I hit twenty-five and people my age started to get married."

“Perhaps you could try that next,” Fawn mumbled. She knew the real reason that her BFF hated the song, but knew better than to bring up that old pain.

“Me? What about you? Too busy living vicariously through your students?”

“I’m younger than you. I have more time,” Fawn responded.

“By three months!” Brandy pointed out before another thought hit her. “Shit! I almost forgot without Wrenn here for the interrogation. What the hell was that with Ian Thirlby?”

“Ian Thirlby? What did I miss?” Rachel questioned after finishing her shot.

The redhead had a momentary thought about her rough plan with Gabby to set up Skye with Ian. However, her nephew seemed to be smitten with Skye. And if it kept Cormac away from any of Clarence’s employees at the law firm, then that worked out just as well.

“Calum’s hot little brother?” Lauren double-checked, fanning her face with a hand.

“It was nothing. He just asked me to dance,” Fawn explained.

“For the midnight dance on New Year’s Eve? Bullshit! You’ve been acting awfully cagey about something of late. I bet it’s him,” Brandy accused.

“Fawn, are you and Ian secretly dating?” Lauren gasped.

“Damn, nice pull, Fawnie,” Lana commented.

“Nice pull? What is that supposed to mean? Do you think I don’t have what it takes to land a hot guy?” Fawn challenged, showing a rare amount of anger.

“Yeah, what the fuck, Lana? My girl can get whatever man she wants,” Brandy agreed. “Wait?! So you two are together? You little liar!”

“Nothing is going on between us! We’re casual–”

“Fawn Dawn Graff! You’re having casual sex with him?”

“Shut it, Brandy! I was saying that we’re casual friends, and he asked if I wanted to dance. There is no further story.”

“Why isn’t there? Did you screw up? I hoped you made it known to Ian that you’re down with a good time or whatever weird fetish he’s into,” Brandy rattled, flipping from accusations to recriminations. “This is like that one time in college when that fine ass professor–”

“Which college? When we were at Zurbrugg together or one of your other half-dozen schools?” Fawn needled.

“I’m going to ignore that for now. However, you'd better march back over and give Ian your keycard. He’s basically one of the few guys that I’d see as potential marriage material. That’s if he’d stop being so damn mopey.”

“Don’t you mean our keycard? Is that your plan? Have Ian come up for me, but–whoops!--Brandy is there and her towel fell down,” Fawn accused.

“I only did that twice, and neither time to you. You’re my best friend,” Brandy denied any such intention, and she truly meant it.

“Well, I’m done,” Peyton stated, planning to use the bickering to sneak off.

Without looking away from Fawn, Brandy snapped her fingers at her niece.

“Don’t even think about it. You’re doing another one.”

“I don’t want–”

“If you run off, I’m going to get Mom, Lacey, and the Babybees together to find you a boyfriend with husband potential,” Brandy threatened.

The threat worked.

“Where have you been?” Austin challenged, knowing full well the answer.

“Dancing. It is New Year’s,” Weston replied. The guilt was written all over his face.

Austin took a moment to make his offensive lineman squirm. Utterly loyal to his quarterback, Weston began to fidget under the scrutiny. He and the rest of The Brawny Boys had learned long ago to read Austin's moods, especially his foul ones.

“So, you leave me to stand here all alone for who?”

“I-I thought you were d-dancing with Lacey,” Weston stammered.

“I was until some matchmaking meltdown crap happened,” Austin replied, misunderstanding why his girlfriend raced off. “Tell me who you danced with.”

Weston hemmed and hawed over the name.

“I would’ve expected you to ask for permission if you wanted to dance with one of my cousins.”

“You knew?” Weston gasped.

"I know everything," Austin proclaimed, with Weston believing the statement.

“Kaia’s a pretty girl in many ways.”

“Yeah, I bet I know which assets you like,” Austin said snarkily about his big-breasted cousin. “Damn, I hate this ball. We should’ve gone to Milner’s.”

“I thought you were having fun?” Weston queried, appearing confused. When Austin asked why he thought that, the left tackle added, “Because you let Rory dance with a guy.”

“I what?!”

Austin’s exclamation and immediate scanning of the ballroom alerted the network of observers that Lacey had set up. Zara turned away from the two football players to perform the hand signal. It took three attempts before YoYo saw it from the Fallons’ table. She shocked everyone but Kizzy and Harley by jumping up to repeat the signal. Beatrice confirmed that she’d seen it before motioning toward Zoey. Somehow reluctantly wrapped into the cheerleader scheme, Zoey left her dance partner to alert Lacey.

“Is that Kieran Danforth?” Austin questioned. He didn’t wait for anyone to reply before glaring across the room at his former teammate. “That traitor!”

This…This is Beyza’s fault. She went and danced with Archer Bowe, which put the idea of an older guy in Rory’s head. And just because Kieran is an okay guy doesn’t make this acceptable. He goes to Vapor Valley or Frontier A&M–one of those far-away schools. Isn’t he still dating–

“Oh, fuck, no! My sister is not some home-for-the-holidays fling,” Austin roared as his feet picked up steam.

Suddenly, a petite redhead blocked his path.

“Don’t you dare, Auss,” Lacey warned, holding up a finger. “Kieran’s a nice guy for Rory.”

“You knew? How could you keep this from me?”

“Yes, I knew. They ran into each other while at Metropolis. And yes, your mom knows,” Lacey explained.

“Well, my dad doesn’t!”

“Don’t be an ass, Auss.”

“NO!”

The scream and sound of shattering glass caused Austin, Lacey, and most of the ball-goers to turn toward the bar area.

“Jesus, Fred, calm down,” Art Kolek. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it. I just said this is a wonderful thing for Cassie.”

“No! Nosh winderful! Sass ded, see ded!” Fred shouted, his words slurred by many rounds of ****.

“What the hell, Singer?” Jerry Yegge questioned as he came over to join his old basketball teammate. “What set him off?”

“I just complimented the ball,” Artie whispered in response.

“Eh sed that it gud at Sass ded!”

“Fredrick! What in the world…Did you break that glass?” Larry questioned as he raced over, stepping over the small shards of glass.

“All I did was compliment the ball and Cassandra’s charity,” Art repeated.

“No! Eh sed it gud at Sass ded,” Fred repeated as well.

Having dealt with Fred’s drunken gibberish since their teenage years, Larry turned a shade whiter at Fred’s accusation. Why couldn’t Harvey have stayed?

“No, Art did not say that it’s good that Cass is dead.”

The loud gasp came from Rachel, but smaller ones could be heard from several other people once close to Cassie.

"I certainly did not say that!" Art denied, although nobody believed he had, except for Fred.

“Eh sed it!”

“C’mon, Freddy. Perhaps a rest in your room would do–” Larry attempted to grab Fred’s arm gently.

“Leash me alloon!” Fred screamed, pulling his arm away from Larry.

"Could you not make a scene for one night in your life?" Kimberly demanded, coming to stand next to her soon-to-be ex-husband.

“Uck u beech.”

Fred's insult caused a few chuckles around the growing group. However, the majority watched with increasing concern.

“Freddy, please, let’s not cause a bigger scene,” Larry attempted again.

“Leash me alloon!”

This time, Fred used his other hand to snatch his arm out of Larry’s hand.

“Dammit, what’s going on here?” Dalton questioned as he and Clive rushed over.

“Eh sed it gud at Sass ded!” Fred repeated, pointing at Art.

“What?” Clive asked.

Larry reluctantly filled his other friends in on Fred’s accusation.

“For God’s sake, Fred, nobody is happy that Cassandra died,” Dalton stated.

“You need to get a grip on reality, Fred!” Clive stated, his expression growing angry.

“Not helping,” Dalton told Clive while moving toward the drunk man. “C’mon, let’s go have a rest and talk in my office.”

“No! On’t tush me!” Fred bellowed, shoving Dalton away with his forearm.

"Dad!" Finn screamed, running over as Clive saved Dalton from falling to the floor.

Nearby, safely ensconced in the shadows again, Newt had déjà vu at the scene. And with a whole room full of onlookers, the shy teen had no intention of getting involved this time.

“That’s it! You need to grow up and stop acting like a damn fool,” Clive growled. He took two steps forward before Finn blocked him. At the young man’s plea, Clive’s face softened while he took one step back.

“Dad, please. No one is happy that Mom died,” Finn explained with pleading eyes for his father to understand. “They’re here to keep her memory alive.”

"No! Tey using Sass fer own purposes! Get uney in er name."

“Any money raised is going to Cassandra’s charity,” Larry explained, still the one person who could understand all of Fred’s slurred words.

“We’re doing this all for Cassie,” Rachel stated. “Finn and her parents have the final say over everything.”

“Nosh me! Nosh Me! All abut u!”

"Dad, please, everyone wants to honor Mom. Can't you understand? We want to make sure Mom is never forgotten," Finn continued, causing his father to glare at him with a grim expression.

“Rung poson ded in cur at tay.”

“Fred, don’t talk like that,” Larry admonished.

“Rung poson ded in cur at tay. Shudit vin Sass. Rung poson ded in cur!”

With Larry shaking his head sadly at Fred’s insistent words, Finn’s face fell as he realized what his father had said. Then, he began to grow angry.

Most of the onlookers didn’t understand that Fred said the wrong person died in the car that day. A few did. And one of them took action.

CRAAACK