“Wh-what?” he stuttered in disbelief as he adjusted his bifocals on his face.
“It’s time for you to fly and leave the nest, baby bird. I hope you enjoyed your last night in your bedroom. Your belongings will be packed and waiting for you at the door once you return. Ronan offered to take you in, so there’s no sense in delaying the inevitable.”
“B-b-but you and Mom will be lonely and miserable without me,” Kieran protested.
Dad and Mom’s eyes met, and the way he looked her up and down like she was a tomahawk steak on a Tuesday was criminal enough to land him on somebody’s watchlist.
“I’m sure your mother and I will find some way to occupy our time.” He moved back to the center to address us all again. “If, for some reason, any or all of you are arrested for being idiots, Burgess is on standby. Do not call me, your mother, Anthony, or Simone. Burgess is on retainer. In closing, be safe, be responsible, know your limits, and look out for each other. You’re dismissed.”
* * *
“It’s hot. Can we get on the bus and leave already?” I asked Casey, who strolled down the line with an upturned baseball cap.
“In a minute, Kiyah. Pick one. Open it, but don’t reveal your number.”
I peered into the cap and selected a folded piece of paper.
Number three.
Grant selected his paper and showed it to me despite Casey’s warning.
Number one.
Casey started pacing in front of us like Dad had a few minutes ago.
“The number you selected matches your drinking buddy. If your buddy is drinking,youare drinking. Your drinking buddy is also your buddy for the entire trip; where your buddy goes, you go. Grant, what’s your number?”
“One.”
Kieran let out a whoop and held his paper in the air, confirming they were buddies for the day.
“We’re gonna get fucked up, Grant!” Kieran exclaimed.
“That’s just fucking great,” Grant muttered.
“Kiyah?”
“I got three.”
“It looks like you’re stuck with me,” Ronan commented.
Eh, I’m okay with that. It could’ve been worse. I could’ve been stuck with Nori or Daisy, who are both determined to get “white girl wasted.”
“That means the brides-to-be are drinking buddies,” Casey confirmed.
“Who is your drinking buddy?” Nori signed.
“I’m everyone’s drinking buddy. Now get y’alls asses on that bus.”
I climbed the stairs of the bus with a tiny bit of trepidation. It’d been a long time since the Baker and Powell children were together, and I prayed we didn’t have to ring Mr. Burgess in the middle of the night.
Grant
“Kieran, get off the damn bus,” I growled, trying to coax my idiot brother into the rental so we could shower and rest before dinner. I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed when I received a wet burp in response.
“Oh, God. I think I’m gonna throw up,” he said, whining as if it wasn’t his idea to see who could chug three beers the fastest.
Fucking lightweight.