Free Outside by Nicole Sewell Page B

wrenches her out of the car and pushes her up against the back door. “Open your hand,” he barks.
    “You ain’t gotta use force. It’s just candy.” No matter what I say, Patterson ignores me.
    He leans his weight against her and slams her wrist against the car with a thud. Her fist opens and peanut M&M’s clatter against the roof of the car. Finally, he backs up and I breathe a sigh of relief.
    “Have a seat,” he says, spinning her toward the curb.
    She stumbles away from him, rubbing her wrist, near tears. Lowering herself onto the concrete curb, she refuses to look at me.
    “Are you okay?” I whisper.
    Nodding, she draws in a ragged breath.
    She’s a terrible liar.
    Patterson starts searching my car without asking or having any probable cause. After what feels like an eternity, he comes to stand over me.
    “You’re lucky, Grayson,” he says. “All I’m gonna cite you for is a broken taillight.” He yanks me to my feet by one arm.
    I scowl. “My taillight ain’t broke.”
    “Not yet it ain’t. Keep talking and it will be.” He unlocks the handcuffs and hands me a ticket. “Have a nice evening.”
    Patterson is back in his car when Alaina finally stands up.
    “Sorry about this. Are you sure you’re okay?” I search her face.
    “What did you do?” she blurts, then lowers her head and mutters, “Sorry.”
    “Don’t be sorry.” We lean against the back of the car and watch Patterson pull off. “I really didn’t do anything. I mean…” I trail off and glance at her, shrugging. “Two years ago I was dating his daughter and we got pulled over. I had some weed in the car. No big deal, you know? Like, mostly just shake.” She probably doesn’t know what shake is. “Mostly crumbs,” I clarify. “Not very much. But we both got arrested and then we broke up.” I leave out the fact that it was her weed, and the part where she didn’t take the breakup well, ended up in rehab, and is still delusional enough to think we’ll get back together some day. Instead I shake my head to get rid of the memory. “He messes with me whenever he gets the chance.”
    She eyes me, silently, for a long time. “So, you’re not a criminal?”
    I raise my eyebrows. “A criminal? No. I mean, the possession charge was just a misdemeanor and it falls off my record in a few months when I turn eighteen.” Smiling down at her, I ask, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
    “I’m fine,” she says, opening and closing her hand. Under the street light, I make out colored indentations in her palm where she squeezed the M&M’s.
    “Good. Let’s get back to the party before all that ice melts.”
     
    Alaina carries the bag full of candy up the steps. She stopped shaking when we got to my neighborhood, but her face is still pale.
    I lead her past the empty living room where Drew’s giant glass water bong sits in the middle of my dad’s expensive-ass imported coffee table. Out back, most people are in the pool, some fully clothed, others not so much.
    Alaina’s eyes boggle when Bree Taylor runs up in a dripping wet white t-shirt.
    “Adam! Oh my god!” she squeals, throwing her arms around my neck, pressing herself against me. “Come swimming with me!”
    I lift the bag of ice and hold it against her back. She shrieks and shoves me. “Not funny!”
    “I’m busy. Swim with Bryce or something.” I nod at Bryce Pierson who’s already in the pool with a girl under each arm.
    Bree’s eyes narrow before darting to Alaina. Slowly, her wheels spin and things click into place. “Whatever. You suck,” she grumbles, turning away. Before she gets too far, Roberto Ramirez scoops her up and tosses her in the pool before diving in after her.
    There’s one drunken hook up I definitely regret. Now every time she sees me at a party she assumes we’ll have a repeat of that one terrible mistake of a night. Incidentally, that was the night I vowed never to drink again. Totally not a coincidence.
    “Come on,” I say to