29. Audra
Chapter 29
Audra
Ravyn is inches from my face with glitter on a brush. I can’t say glitter has ever been a part of my style, but I told her she could do my makeup for the party tonight. It feels a little stupid on my part to keep trying to participate in parties when every time the attempt ends poorly.
I’ve really come around to the thought of never going back to the way life was before everything with Tyler. Some things still feel within reach, though, and when they do, I can’t help but reach for them.
Parties, for example, I always loved going with Ares and Ravyn, and I know it can be something that comes back to me. It’s something that feels within reach. So I keep trying despite it turning to shit every time. There’s been no word from Tyler since the bonfire incident, though, which has been nice.
“You need to stop blinking,” Ravyn huffs, attempting to put mascara on me.
“I’ll stop blinking if you stop putting mascara on my pupils,” I retort. She rolls her eyes and continues what she’s doing.
Ares and Roman are getting ready together at their house, and then they’re coming to pick us up. I asked Roman to tag along just on the off chance that something happens. I always feel better when he’s around. As long as I can remember, I’ve had this anxiety just buzzing in my veins from the time I wake up until the time I go to sleep at night. It wasn’t until I started spending time with Roman that I knew that buzzing could go quiet.
Ravyn holds up three different lipsticks to me. A deep maroon color, a bright pink, and a nude shade for me to choose from.
“Which one do you think?” I ask. She laughs and puts back all but the darkest shade. I open my mouth just slightly to let her paint them a deep red. Just as she’s putting the lipstick on me, I hear the beep of a car.
“Oh shit,” Ravyn says, spritzing my face with some spray that’s cold and wet. I do one last look in the mirror, smoothing out my dress over my hips, and when it all sits right where I want it to, I follow Ravyn out to the car.
The boys are in Roman’s Jeep as it was the car we were most comfortable leaving there if we had to pay for a ride home. Ravyn and I hop in the back, and it’s odd being in the back seat. Ares and Ravyn smoke weed the entire way there. I don’t take a hit because I know if I drink and smoke, everything will be spinning before I’m ready to go home.
When we walk into the party, the bass vibrates my entire body. The smell of beer is strong, and the smell of weed would likely hit me a lot harder if I hadn’t been surrounded by the smell on the drive here. Ares leads us through this random house and over to the beer. We all do the irresponsible thing and chug one before taking one to sip with us. As any house party is, it’s filled with people jumping around and dancing. I’m not sure this is really my scene anymore, but it feels important to me right now to know it could be if I wanted it to be.
“Pong? Girls against boys?” Ravyn asks, pulling me by my wrist into her side, claiming me as a partner. I nod eagerly. Roman sees me nod and he agrees to play, too. We walk over to the pong table and wait our turn, but eventually, we do get to play. In the first round, we kick the guys’ asses. In the second round, they win, but not by much. Now we’re playing for the best two out of three, and whoever wins this match takes it all.
Naturally, we’re idiots and agree that whoever wins gets to pick the losing team’s consequences. As I’m lining up my first throw, Roman winks at me with a mischievous smirk painted on his lips. Bite me. I mouth to him. His smirk turns to a full smile before mouthing back to me. You’d love that. I roll my eyes and throw the ball, it bounces right at the edge of one of their cups and then falls in. Roman lets out a groan before throwing the cup back and drinking all the contents.
The game is pretty even all the way through. The more we drink, the worse the shit-talking gets. Finally, though, we pull out the win, and the boys pout, slouching their shoulders and stomping over to us like a couple of toddlers who just lost a game of Candyland.
“Aww, not fond of losing?” I taunt. They both roll their eyes.
“You ready for your dare, pretty boys?” Ravyn asks, bopping Ares on the nose. He holds a middle finger up to her face, and she sticks her tongue out like she’s going to lick it. He yanks it away with a disgusted look on his face.
“You think I’m pretty, Ray?” Ares asks, wiggling his brows at her. She groans, rolling her eyes.
“I’m a lesbian, Ares. In your dreams,” she scoffs, shoving his arm. “New consequence: get out of our hair and go find some girls to dance with.” My heart rate quickens at the thought of Roman going off and finding some other girl to dance with at this party. I wonder if he’ll do it for the sake of keeping our secret.
“Oh no! Not a reason to go find Kat and ask her to dance with me,” Ares says sarcastically, turning on his heels to go find her, taking a moment to give Ravyn the finger on his way. We all erupt in laughter, but due to the volume of the music and surrounding people, we don’t draw any attention to ourselves. I watch tentatively to see if Roman will follow Ravyn’s direction and find some girl to dance with or if he’ll find a way to avoid it without giving our secret away.
“What are you waiting for, Roman? You heard me,” Ravyn tests, raising her eyebrow. I know now she’s testing us. She caught us the other night, and now she’s toying with us.
“Yeah, I heard you, guess I’ll see what I can find,” he says with a shrug. The words sting even though I know he’s only doing this to keep the secret I wanted to keep. I will myself to turn my attention back to the beer pong table because I know I can’t stomach watching him with someone else. I down the entirety of the beer in my cup. I watch the ball bounce back and forth for a few passes before feeling myself lifted off the ground and slugged over Roman’s shoulder.
“Hope you feel like dancing,” he says, yanking my dress down to cover my ass. I let out a squeal as he hauls me to the room where everyone is dancing or jumping around to music. There’s a warm feeling in my chest, like a pool of warm glistening honey is settling right at the center of my chest. The only word that comes to mind about how I feel when he throws me over his shoulder and takes me to dance is love. Choosing me over and over again. Choosing me even before I knew I was an option.
“I think I could manage one dance for you,” I say, wiggling around in his arms in an attempt to get back to the floor. He doesn’t budge, though, I don’t even gain an inch of ground until he sets me gently on the hardwood floor of whoever’s house this is.
“I thought you were going to dance with someone else,” I admit, rocking back and forth slightly to the music, not quite dancing but trying to fit in with the crowd around me who is.
“Why would I dance with anyone but you?” he asks, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me in closer to him. In near-perfect timing, some R this shouldn’t have happened when everyone was drunk. We’ll figure it all out after some sleep and water, okay?” All I can respond with is a nod because I can’t argue with what he’s said. On the other hand, though, it isn’t okay, and I can’t find it in myself to say that it is. None of this feels okay.
“Beck is going to pick us up and take us to my place,” he says, wrapping my hand securely in his as we walk down the street.
“I don’t know if I should be going to your house.”
“Everyone knows, Auds. Might as well.” I nod along because he isn’t wrong. I’m not sure it can get worse than it is right now. So sure, I’ll cry in the comfort of Roman’s arms in his bed instead of alone at my own house. Soon after we reach the end of the street, Beck’s truck pulls up, and Roman helps me in. The drive is eerily quiet, and I hate that almost every time Beck has seen me, it’s begun or ended in tears. I’m sure he thinks I’m an absolute wreck. Maybe he’d be right about that, though.
I flop myself on Roman’s bed, probably leaving black flecks of glitter all over his sheets and pillows. I lay there and take some deep breaths, trying to calm down, but it’s kind of hard when the entire room is spinning. And spinning. And spinning.
Roman kneels at the edge of the bed and unstraps each heel before pulling each of them from my feet. Carefully, he pulls a pair of sweatpants up my legs.
“T-shirt next,” he says, putting a hand out to help me up. I grab his hand, and he pulls me upright. Holy shit, I’m so dizzy. He pulls my dress over my head and unsnaps my bra, letting it fall to the ground, then pulls one of his t-shirts over my head.
“Take me to the bathroom, please. Everything is spinning,” I groan, tucking my head in my hands. I’m sure it’s a mix of beer, nerves, and how little I ate today, but I’m certain I’m going to be sick.