20. Quentin
Chapter twenty
Quentin
I stood in front of Kelsey’s door, heart pounding. I heard music and people chatting and laughing. Usually, I avoided parties, especially when I was unfamiliar with most of the guests. At least that wouldn’t be the case. I assumed Kelsey had invited the usual suspects: Sunset Apartments residents and a couple of work friends. But a party was still a party, and I never really knew what to do with myself there. I was good at holding lectures about American history in front of teenagers, but I was not good at small talk.
But this was Kelsey’s party. I would throw myself into a swimming pool full of sharks if it meant spending time with Kelsey. Clutching my carefully wrapped gift to my side, I gathered my courage and knocked on the door.
A moment later, Kelsey opened, and her smile was bright enough to make me forget my dislike of social gatherings for a second. “Quentin, come in!” She pulled me in for a hug, one that lasted just a bit too long for a casual greeting between friends. When she pulled away, I took my chance and let my hand linger on her hip a moment longer than necessary .
Was I imagining things, or did she look a little flustered? To ease the strange mood, I handed her the present I’d brought.
She smiled. “Let me guess? A book?”
“Open it.”
She quickly ripped off the blue wrapping paper and revealed the DVD I’d bought for her. “ Hope Hospital ?” Kelsey gasped. “Season five. That’s fantastic. It’s the only one missing from my collection.”
“I know,” I said. “I saw them in your bookcase and noticed this season was missing.”
Now, her cheeks definitely looked red. “Wow, Quentin. This is really thoughtful. Thank you so much. Hey, Leah, look what Quentin got me!”
Leah came over and took a peek over Kelsey’s shoulder. “Oh hell, yeah. You know what that means, right?”
Kelsey nodded, full of excitement. “ Hope Hospital Marathon.”
“I’ll clear my calendar,” Leah said as she dragged Kelsey away.
I was left to my own devices. Eighties music was coming from a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. I looked around and saw plenty of familiar faces. Arlene was here, leaning on a crutch but otherwise in a good mood and already a bit tipsy. She was telling a funny story from Leah’s childhood to Cara, who was stirring a bowl of punch.
Alcohol might have been exactly the thing I needed to get over my nerves, so I joined the two women in the kitchen.
“Quentin!” Arlene hugged me. “Look, Cara, Quentin is here.”
“Hey there. I haven’t seen you in forever.” Cara said. “Do you want something to drink?”
“I’ll take a cup of that,” I said, pointing at the orange liquid in the glass bowl. “Where is Riley?”
“Downstairs, enjoying the unlimited access to his PlayStation for the evening,” she said. “Here you go. Be careful. It’s quite strong. ”
I took a sip and felt the warm burn of alcohol in my throat. “Wow. You can disinfect wounds with that stuff.”
Cara shrugged. “I think it’s about ninety-five percent vodka.”
After another, smaller sip, I searched for Kelsey. I found her on the floor, crouching awkwardly on a Twister mat, entangled with a young man I recognized as Patrick, the cook at Liberty Diner, along with a black teenager I’d never seen before.
On the couch, next to the plastic Twister carpet, sat Callum. I could hardly believe Callum, of all people, had shown up to Kelsey’s birthday party. He was a bit like me, very withdrawn, but compared to Callum, I was an outright chatterbox. The large red-haired man had been living at the Sunset Apartments for almost six years, but no one knew where he’d come from—no roots, no ties. But he was here now, holding the Twister spinner in his large hands, and announced, “Left foot on red.”
All three players made complaining sounds when the move was called. Patrick awkwardly shoved his leg under his own body, and Kelsey nearly fell over when she tried to reach a red field with her foot. I had a perfect view of her behind from where I was standing, and the little grunting noise she made while trying to regain her balance sent thoughts to my head that I really shouldn’t have in the middle of a crowded living room.
Kelsey looked over her shoulder, catching my eyes, and the look on her face told me I was just caught staring.
“Enjoying the view, Mr. Avery?” she asked with a cheeky grin.
Under other circumstances, I would have mumbled a mortified apology and skittered away to hide in a dark corner, but the vodka masquerading as fruit punch was starting to do its magic, quieting the overthinking part of my brain .
“Quite a bit, yes.” Bold! I couldn’t believe I’d really said that, but Kelsey laughed, which finally made her lose her balance. She toppled over, pulling Patrick down with her.
“Elijah wins again,” Kelsey declared as the teenager got up from the plastic mat triumphantly.
“He’s younger than us,” Patrick said while untangling his limbs from Kelsey’s. “He’s got an advantage.”
Elijah stretched his arms out. “I’m up for a rematch.”
“Bring it,” Patrick said. “Kelsey, are you in?”
“You bet. We need to beat his winning streak before his head gets too big.”
Callum, who had watched the banter with a blank face, shook his head and got up from the couch. “I’ve had enough. I saw some things I’d never expected to see today.”
He walked over to me and handed me the spinner. “Here, you do it, Quentin. I need a drink.”
All three of them looked at me expectantly, and I shrugged. I could act as game master as long as nobody asked me to play. Through physical therapy and hard work, my body was still fully functional in daily life, but I certainly didn’t want to push my luck by attempting bizarre positions on a Twister mat. I sat down on the couch and placed the spinner on my lap.
Kelsey looked at me and giggled. “Getting a front-view seat?”
“Can you blame me?” I said, still feeling unusually brave.
She winked at me. Warmth spread from my stomach throughout my body, and I was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the fruit punch this time. I gave the little plastic arrow a spin. “Left hand on blue.”
They played three more rounds, and Elijah won all of them. “It’s the wrestling,” he explained to Patrick and Kelsey, who were still stuck in a pile on the floor. “Keeps me flexible. ”
Kelsey sighed. “I’m going to be sore for a month. Quentin, help me up.”
She reached a hand out, and I didn’t need to be asked twice. I took her hand and pulled her into a standing position. Kelsey held on to my waist and didn’t let go when she was back on her feet.
Acutely aware of the warmth of her hand radiating through my shirt, I swallowed hard and tried to rein in my thoughts, which were running away from me again.
“I’m so glad you came,” she murmured, the fruit punch already slurring her words a little. She spoke quietly enough that no one but me could hear.
“Me too,” I said, nearly whispering.
For a moment, a long magical moment, we looked at each other. The expression in her eyes made me weak in the knees, and the party and all its guests became a muffled blur, like I was caught in a bubble with Kelsey. Her arm was still around my waist, and I was still holding her hand. My gaze wandered to her lips, almost of its own accord. Another man would have probably kissed her, but even the fruit punch and the magic of the moment could not change who I was. Scarred, reclusive beasts did not kiss red-haired beauties at parties.
“I think I should eat something. The alcohol is getting to my head.” I could practically feel how my hollow words burst our little bubble. For a split second, I thought I could see disappointment wash over her face, but then I blinked, and Kelsey was back to her normal, cheery self.
“Come on,” she said. “There’s a cheese platter in the kitchen.”