May Contain Wine (SWAT Generation 2.0 5)

“Enough.” She grinned. “You won’t be a problem.”

No, I wouldn’t.

After Louis and I had broken it off, I’d done a drastic thing and had cut over eighteen inches of hair off.

Louis had always said that he loved it, and begged me not to cut it. Ever since we were little kids, he’d had an infatuation with my hair.

And over the years, I’d not even thought twice about it. I didn’t mind the long hair so much and having known how much he adored it felt kind of special to me. It meant that he cared enough to express his disappointment if I were to cut it.

The moment he left, I’d hacked it off in a fit of anger.

Then I’d gone to my hairdresser and told her to do what she could.

That night, I’d taken the mass of hair that I had fashioned into a tight braid before cutting it off, formed it into a keychain of sorts, and sent it to him.

It’d been the one and only thing that I ever sent to him.

The last time I’d communicated with him at all.

I had gone to his basic training graduation.

Though nobody, not even my father, knew that I went.

Ares had covered for me, and I’d driven over eighteen hours to see him walk across the stage.

I wasn’t entirely sure why I’d done it. I also wasn’t entirely sure why I’d stayed long enough for him to notice me there. But I had.

When he’d started heading my way, I’d gotten lost in the huge crowd, and had driven straight home.

I’d arrived Sunday night with only seconds to spare until my curfew.

That night, Louis had called.

Actually, he’d called quite a bit after his graduation, but I hadn’t had my phone on, so I didn’t get any of those messages until so long after he had left them that I thought it’d be rude to reply.

Which led to now, six months after seeing him last, after having never returned his texts. Even the random ones that he sent once in a blue moon to check on me.

I could hear him talking with my father, his father, and my mom in the living room.

I wasn’t actually sure why they were here, but I knew that I needed to do something. Going to prom was good enough.

Thirty minutes later on the dot, I was standing in front of a mirror with my hands on my hips, staring at the girl in front of me.

She was pretty.

My hair was short enough that it showed off the dangly earrings that had been the one and only gift Louis had ever given me.

My luck, he’d never even notice.

But, seeing as he was at my house, in my living room, I wanted to prove a point.

I was not his anymore.

In fact, I never would be again.

Nope. No. Nuh-uh. He could come crawling back to me, and I would refuse.

“Done!” Ares clapped, finishing hooking a choker necklace onto my neck.

It looked good.

It felt like something was constricting my airflow.

Though, it was hot. I’d give her that.

Which was why I kept it on instead of ripping it off like I really wanted to do.

There would be time to take it off later.

“Ready?” Ares asked.

Ares wanted to go with me to prom because her date wasn’t showing up until much later in the night.

I’d agreed because I had nothing better to do.

At least, that was what I was telling myself was the reason.

The real reason was downstairs.

I knew he knew it was prom night.

I’d gone with him to his prom and had asked him way back then to go with me to mine.

And I didn’t want him to see me down.

So I was going, and I was going to walk past him with my head held high.

“Ready,” I confirmed.

I didn’t bother to put on my heels just yet.

That was the very last thing that I needed to deal with—wobbling past him like a baby fawn.

So, heels hooked in my fingers, I descended the stairs and connected eyes with my father almost immediately.

His eyes widened and he stood up, his mouth open to immediately deny me, but my pleading eyes must’ve gotten through before he could voice anything.

He looked over to Louis, who was out of my view as of yet, and then back to me.

His mouth shut, and he looked at me with a small shake of his head.

He knew why I was dressed like this.

“Ohh!” My mother clapped, drawing my attention as I descended two more steps. “You look so beautiful, Calloway.”

I rolled my eyes and came down the rest of the way, unsurprised to see my brother and sisters absent.

It was Saturday night. There was no way they’d be caught dead in the house like me.

Studiously ignoring the other two men in the room—Foster didn’t do anything to me. He just had the unfortunate luck to sit next to his son—I made my way to my dad.