Two Outta Three (Two Outta Three #1) Read online

  Two Outta Three

  Two Outta Three Series, Book One

  By S. Briones Lim

  Two Outta Three

  Copyright © 2015 by S. Briones Lim.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: June 2015

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-151-5

  ISBN-10: 1-68058-151-1

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To those who ever felt

  the sting of unrequited love.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 1

  My aunt’s drunken rendition of ‘Hark! The Herald Angels Sing’ echoed from downstairs. I winced, hearing a flatter than usual B flat and quickly shut the bedroom door, glancing towards my bed.

  The old cardboard box was dingy and stained, aged and dusty from years’ worth of neglect. Sitting down on my old mattress, I plopped the box in front of me, taking a swig of eggnog (spiked with rum courtesy of Cousin Maurice) before diving into the box’s old contents. God only knew how much liquid courage I’d need to rifle through all the stuff.

  The dust coated my fingertips as I lifted the lid. I took a deep breath, quickly regretting it once I inhaled the stale odor. “Ugh. Nasty.”

  I shrugged it off and eagerly pulled out streamers, knick-knacks and other mementos from high school. Soon my bed was covered in piles of the glittery mess, but I couldn’t seem to find the one thing I wanted—a photograph. Sure, I’d uncovered a bunch of other pictures, all fully capturing the horror of puberty—random football games, pep rallies, a particular plant-a-tree event—but not the precise photograph I was searching for.

  “Knock, knock.”

  My head snapped up once my sister, Emily, entered the room. Her newly dyed blonde hair was wrapped up tight in a sock bun, making her look a bit more intimidating than usual. She sipped her own mug of rum with eggnog and stared at me questioningly.

  “What?” I immediately dropped a pair of bright red pompoms and pushed the box away from me.

  “Taking a trip down memory lane, I see. Funny how people who move away from home do shit like that.” She walked up beside me and reached into the box, grabbing a pair of plastic leis. “Ugh, I can’t believe you kept all this stuff.”

  “What can I say; I’m a glutton for punishment. Guess I’m lucky that Mom never throws anything away.”

  “Yeah, if you consider all things BFHS lucky. Honestly, remembering high school definitely does not seem like a fun activity to me.” Emily tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. “So what’s the deal? You just disappeared. You’re totally missing out on a fabulous caroling session, drunken Rossi style.”

  I snorted and leaned back into my headboard. “Oh yeah. Joining along in a rum induced version of ‘Oh Come All Ye Faithful’ does sound really exciting.”

  My older sister sat on the edge of the bed and peered into the box. “So…why did you close yourself up here? Though I must admit it is a lot more peaceful in your room than downstairs.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. Just felt like looking at my old things, I guess.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing,” she replied nonchalantly.

  “Emily.”

  She smirked. “Just saying, this urge to look back is timed pretty well with Dad’s bombshell, right?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Right.” She laughed unconvincingly. Rising from the bed, she walked over to the door and turned at her waist. “And that is precisely the reason why I moved out of Bethel Falls the first chance I got. This town’s too small to be able to forget the past.”

  “You mean, besides the part where you got knocked up and eloped with Clyde?” I teased.

  “Ha, ha.” She rolled her eyes and took an even bigger gulp of eggnog. “Anyway, I didn’t just come up here for snooping. Mom wanted me to tell you that you have a guest.”

  “A guest? Who?”

  She shrugged. “Didn’t catch his name. He’s really cute though.”

  I glanced back at my box of treasures and looked up in time to see my sister leave the room. Who on earth could be visiting on Christmas Eve?

  The smell of burned turkey filled my nostrils as I descended the carpeted stairs. Aunt Sonya’s ear-piercing tunes had luckily stopped and now were replaced with the bustle of multiple conversations and laughter. That is, until I made it onto the last step. All conversation ceased as soon as I stepped foot into the living room. I glanced around, fully aware that my entire extended family was staring at me. My fingers automatically flew towards my nose, wiping at it for any telltale signs of snot.

  I practically sprinted towards my sister and tugged at her sleeve. “What’s going on?”

  “You didn’t think they’d react any other way, did you?” she whispered.

  “What are you talking about?” I hissed.

  “Perpetually single and independent Raquel has a man visiting her? Please, you’d think the Queen of England just walked in the room.”

  The blood drained from my face. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Rocky, hey. Merry Christmas,” a deep voice crooned from behind a cluster of family members.

  My head snapped up in shock as I watched Ethan squeeze between two of my burly cousins, Matt and Joe. Despite having gone on three dates with him, I would never have imagined him crashing my family party—especially since I never actually told him about it.

  “Who invited him?” I whispered in shock.

  “Best bet is Mom.” Emily motioned towards our mother, who had an unmistaken mischievous glint in her eye. She threw me a wink and good God how much I wanted to shake the woman by the shoulders and scream. Where did she get off inviting Ethan without asking me? Emily turned back towards me and arched an eyebrow. “Why do you look like somebody just killed your cat? Aren’t you two dating? You’d think you’d be excited to spend the holiday with your boyfriend.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I shot back just before Ethan reached me. “Ethan! Hi! Merry Christmas.”

  He smi
led and pulled me into an awkward hug, eliciting giggles from my two middle school aged cousins. “Merry Christmas. Thanks for having me.”

  “Uh, you bet.” I snuck a peek at Emily, who merely shrugged and walked back to her husband and son. Crap. There went my buffer! I shook my head slightly and plastered a fake grin on my face. “Hope you’re not put out or anything. You sure your family isn’t wondering where you are?”

  Please say they are so I can insist you leave.

  “Nah, they’re celebrating tomorrow. I have all night.”

  My lips tightened. “Of course. Well, I guess we should grab a seat at the dining table. Don’t want to be shoved off to the kids’ table this year.” I let out a fake laugh and immediately spun on my heel.

  I couldn’t believe Mom invited Ethan to our annual Christmas Eve dinner! Besides the fact that she didn’t think to ask me how I felt about it, she basically just gave Ethan the wrong impression about our relationship. I’m not saying Ethan was bad or anything, but seriously, Mom; it was only three dates!

  I took my seat towards the middle of the gigantic sixteen-seater table, which was set to look like an ad out of a magazine. Crystal goblets, gold reindeer, poinsettias—when it came to Christmas and our big family, my parents pulled no stops. Ethan awkwardly took the seat beside me, the fake smile never leaving his face. Oh, you know the kind. The “I must make a good impression so I will make myself look as if I had a face lift” kind of smile. His lips were curled back, showing off his perfectly bleached teeth.

  “So do you think you’ll get everything you want for Christmas this year?” he asked me in a failed attempt to break the ice.

  I refrained from saying that the only thing I ever really wanted was literally only two days away. Instead I responded, “Oh yeah. I’ve been a good girl this year.”

  Once I realized the magnitude of the innuendo I turned away, not wanting to see Ethan’s cheeks flush over in excitement. I redirected my attention to Uncle Grady, who was preparing to make a long winded prayer. As everyone around the table quieted down to give thanks, I took the opportunity to sneak a look at Ethan.

  He really wasn’t bad looking. In fact, he was quite handsome in that Hollywood sort of way. Straight nose, striking blue eyes, and a perfect smile—he could have been the poster boy for that one store in the mall, which ironically sells their clothes by using shirtless models. He was the epitome of clean cut, right up to his pompadour hairstyle. He was every mother’s dream come true, which explained my mom’s blatantly obvious attempt at hurrying our relationship along—if I could even call it a relationship. It wasn’t as if we were exclusive or anything.

  Yeah, Ethan was a nice guy. Yes, he was successful. Yeah, he was handsome. So why wasn’t I leaping at the chance to jump his bones?

  “And a very Merry Christmas to all of you. Amen!” Uncle Grady’s closing prayer snapped me out of my thoughts. My family cheered and soon the clanking of silverware filled the dining room. As Ethan joined in on the laughter, I couldn’t help but prop my chin onto my fist and frown.

  Two days. In just two days I’d be seeing him again. The boy—er, man now—who was probably the cause of my inability to fully commit to a relationship. I’d be seeing the very man who had tainted my view of the male species for the past five years.

  Chapter 2

  “What are you doing here? You can get expelled, you know.” I watched the familiar figure climb the bleachers towards me. His big combat boots caused the metal seats to shake, clunking all the way up. I pulled my knees up to my chest in anticipation, allowing the long red skirt of my satin dress to bunch up around my calves.

  “You look nice.” His voice always sent butterflies to my stomach. It took a lot of time and practice to mask the effect he had on me, but at times like that night I knew I couldn’t hide it as well as I hoped.

  “Jesse, I’m serious! You shouldn’t be here!”

  “What are they going to do? Kick me out of the dance I was already kicked out of?” A metallic clang sounded as he plopped down next me. He reached into his pocket, pulling out what looked to be a flask.

  I rolled my eyes and groaned in frustration. “Really? Drinking on campus? I take it back; you don’t want to get expelled. You want to be arrested!”

  “Oh come off it, Miss Goodie Two Shoes. Live a little! It’s Homecoming.”

  “Don’t remind me!” I scratched at my uncomfortable updo, wincing as my fingernail hit what had to be one of a hundred bobby pins covering my head.

  Jesse leaned his elbows back on the seat behind us and took a gulp of fresh air. The full moon shined down, illuminating his dark hair, which hung messily around his temples. He turned his dark eyes towards me. “So, why aren’t you in there partying it up with Stephanie?”

  I snorted. “Are you kidding me? You think I’d interrupt the love fest between her and Daniel? It’d be like trying to wrestle fresh meat away from a hyena.”

  Jesse threw his head back and laughed. He shoved the flask in my direction. “Here, drink this. I think you need it more than me.”

  I pushed the metal flask back in his direction. “No thanks. Unlike you, some of us would rather graduate high school with a clean record.”

  His bright smile quickly vanished. He turned away from me, unscrewing the tiny lid and taking a swig of some foul smelling liquid.

  Worried that I’d offended him somehow, I asked, “Jesse? Are you okay?”

  “Never better, why?”

  I frowned. “We’ve been friends since freshman year. I think I know when something’s bothering you.”

  Ignoring me, he reached out and pinched me on the cheek. “Look at you, all made up. You look really good tonight you know.”

  “Just tonight? Gee, thanks,” I joked. Though I attempted to keep a calm demeanor, inside I was whooping and hollering for joy. It was never easy crushing on one of your best friends and worrying about breaking that sacred bond that goes along with friendship. Yet hearing him say such sweet things about me only added fuel to the flames.

  “You know what I mean.” He paused and took another swig of his liquor. “So, Cinderella, why are you out here all alone? A pity you spent all that money on that ridiculous hairdo only share to it with the goal posts.”

  “Hey!” I exclaimed, elbowing him in the ribs. “It is not ridiculous. I’ll have you know I had my stylist copy Amanda Seyfried’s red carpet look!”

  “First of all, I don’t know who that is, and second of all, you look better when your hair is just down and wavy.”

  “Oh…” My voice trailed off, not knowing how else to respond. My pulse raced and I worried that Jesse could hear the sound of my beating heart. I attempted to steer the conversation in another direction. “Anyway, I’m only out here because my date bailed on me.”

  “Who is this sucker so I can beat him up?”

  “Ha, ha!” I hugged my knees to my chest and rolled my eyes. “We had a pact, Jesse Tyler! And you broke it.”

  His lips curled into a sad smile. “Not my fault the principal told me I couldn’t go to the dance.”

  “Actually, it is,” I replied, chuckling.

  “How so?”

  “If he didn’t catch you skipping homeroom for the sixth time this month maybe you would have been allowed to go.”

  “So it was his fault!” Jesse’s thunderous laugh echoed across the dewy football field.

  “I’m not following.”

  “If he didn’t catch me, I wouldn’t have had to stand you up.”

  “Jesse, sometimes being a bad boy isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  My friend leaned over and pushed a loose curl behind my ear. “But sometimes, being the good girl can.”

  ***

  “Rocky! Rocky!” My sister snapped her fingers in front of my face.

  “Oh! Sorry, were you here long?”

  “Not as long as you’ve been,” she replied in a huff. “Seriously, I feel kind of sorry for Ethan. After dinner you basically ignored him before usi
ng that lame ass ‘my stomach hurts’ excuse.”

  “My stomach did hurt!” I insisted.

  “You look plenty fine to me.” She pursed her lips and gave me the onceover. “All I know is that you might as well have put on a giant boot and kicked him out the door.”

  “Well, I was hurt.” Just not in the way I made Ethan think.

  Emily peered over my shoulder and gazed at the photo in my hand. In a time before the term ‘selfie’ had found its way into the English dictionary, Jesse and I had taken one together during our Senior Homecoming Dance—or rather on the field outside of the dance.

  “Is that what you were looking for all this time?” Emily asked quietly. She reached into the box and pulled out a stack of photos from the top. She flipped through the photos of Stephanie, Jesse, and I, tsking and clucking all the while.

  I threw my head back in exasperation. “What is your deal? Don’t you have anywhere else to be?”

  “You know, for having two best friends, you really favored one of them,” she commented, clearly not planning to leave any time soon.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I sighed and rubbed my tired eyes. Holidays were already exhausting enough as it was, but even more so when two bombs had been dropped on you.

  Emily held up a photo and flicked it with her fingernail. “Well, Stephanie was your gal pal. The best friend you called to shop, watch movies with, and gossip.”

  “So?”

  “Jesse was the ‘best friend,’” she said, using air quotations, “that you hung out with just because you had a massive crush on him.”

  My mouth dropped open and my cheeks instantly reddened. “I did not!”

  “Uh, yeah, you did. It was obvious to everyone but you.” She threw the wad of paper back into the box and placed her hand on my shoulder. “So, how does it feel to know the one that got away is coming back?”

  “It doesn’t feel like anything because in order to have someone ‘get away,’ you’d have to have had them first.”