Chapter 20
chapter twenty
Maisie
Change of plans. Found Scarlett and we’re gonna hang out for a bit. Maybe it’s time for you to check out the spa or something. See you later!
My text is not subtle at all, but it’s the best I can do considering the swirl of messy emotions inside of me.
“You’re serious about not talking about this?” Scarlett asks. “You’re not even giving me a hint as to why you burst into my room and begged to get drunk and dance with me?”
I wince. “It’s just Nate drama. I know you’re tired of hearing about it.”
She crosses her arms. “Are you assuming right now?”
Right. She can see through bullshit. “I just got confirmation that Nate really doesn’t like me like that, okay? I need some space to process and move on before I go back to being his friend.”
Scarlett’s face falls. “Oh, babe, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I reply. “It really will be. This whole trip has me out of sorts, and hanging out with you helps. Even if we’re not talking about every little thing that’s going on with me. ”
“You know that talking about every little thing is my job, right?”
“You’re on vacation,” I remind her with a smirk.
“Which is the only way I’m letting you get away with this.” She points at me. “But if you change your mind and need a shoulder to cry on, I can lock back in.”
“Even after drinking?”
“Oh yeah. I’m flexible like that.”
I laugh and follow her. One of the gathering rooms is meant for drinking and dancing, and every night, people flock to get wasted and have a fun time.
I never thought I would be here, but Scarlett walks in like she owns the place, leading me right to the bar.
I order something simple and try to adjust to the loud pop music playing.
The lights are low, illuminated by a disco ball and sparse colorful lights. People dance like they don’t have a care in the world.
I know I need at least two more drinks before I can join them.
Scarlett has no reservations, though. She joins the dancing like she’s meant to, and she looks like a natural out there. I wonder if she’ll get lost in the sea of people, but she lingers at the side, like a silent invitation.
I join after my second drink.
Scarlett moves her hips easily, raising her arms as she dances to the beat. I’m not drunk enough to completely lose all inhibitions, but she grabs my hands and gently moves me with her.
“Everyone here is either drunk or too invested in their own little world. Let loose, Maisie.”
She says it right when a song ends, and I glance around the crowd. True to her word, no one is looking twice at me. I can tell who’s drunk and who’s not, but the sober people in the crowd are too busy talking to their own friends.
I want to let go of everything and live. I have to.
When the next song starts, I follow Scarlett’s movements. I have no idea what I’m doing, and I probably look like a gazelle with a broken leg, but all that matters is the music. Scarlett’s face brightens and she cheers me on as one song turns into two and then three.
I’m tempted to go get another drink when I see her eyes catch on someone who’s near the door.
“If you see a guy, go for it!” I yell in her direction.
“Oh, no. Not for me.” Her hands land on my shoulders and she turns me around. It takes me a minute to see him, but right near the door stands Nate.
I blink, trying to make sense of it. Why is he so worried about me? Why does he follow me wherever I go when he can’t even stand to be near me?
“You should talk to him.” She urges me forward. “Enough running.”
I glare at her. Just the sight of him brings back all the hurt and fear that surrounds him. Instead of going right to him, I stop by the bar and get another drink, which I down immediately.
Then I go face him.
The third drink hits me harder. My head is spinning, but I feel like I can face things.
“Nate,” I say. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you wearing?” he asks, eyeing me up and down. I glance at myself. I’m in the teal dress I impulse bought with Scarlett. It’s not as short as her red one, but it’s a spaghetti strap, and I realize I’m in less than I usually would be.
“Just something new.” I shake my head and nearly topple over. Nate goes to steady me, but his hands stop before they touch me.
The sight nearly sets me off.
I was hoping drinking and dancing would make me forget all that’s happened, but now it’s concentrated, and my common sense is off the boat. It’s just me.
And my hurt has turned into something ugly. Nate’s not in the wrong. He doesn’t have to touch me, but the way he jerks away from me like I’m on fire has festered. And I hate that it’s like this. I hate that he feels this way about me.
So, I do something stupid. My hands lock around his wrists, and I finish the movement for him.
He jerks away. “What was that?”
There’s a part of me deep down that hopes I imagined it all.
I didn’t.
“Just go back to the room. You get a night off from me.”
“What?” he asks. “Maisie, what’s going on? You sent me a text saying you’re going dancing with Scarlett out of nowhere when you were supposed to be napping. What the hell happened?”
“I changed my mind. I’m fine.”
“Then why won’t you look me in the eye?”
I know that if I do, I’ll lose it. I can’t put all this in a box, especially not when tipsy.
But maybe I can’t when sober either.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m going back in there.” I crave the feeling I had before I saw Nate. I crave the person I was before I knew he had shown up.
Turning to leave, I’m ready to get back to the dance floor.
But Nate grabs my hand.
And it sets me off.
“Don’t,” I hiss, yanking my hand out of his. “Don’t you dare touch me.”
He steps back, green eyes wide. “Maisie, I?—”
“You don’t have to force yourself anymore.”
“Force myself? Who said I was forcing myself to do anything?”
My eyes squeeze shut. I’m still angry and I want to cry, which is a dangerous combination. “Just stay away from me.”
“What did I do?” he asks. “Tell me and I’ll fix it.” He says it urgently, and I know he’d try.
If I were more selfish, I’d ask him to get over it. To try and be closer to me. But I know he hates it.
“You can’t fix how you feel,” I mutter. “So don’t worry about it.”
“How I feel? What do you mean how I feel?”
As much as I don’t want to do this drunk, I also want this over with. Once he’s aware that I’ve caught on, the faster I can be away from him and move forward.
“Nate, I know.”
“What do you know?” He has an edge of panic in his voice. He’s terrified of being caught.
I don’t blame him.
I’m terrified of saying it.
“Maisie, please .” He’s begging me. His voice is close to breaking. “What do you know?”
My eyes grow wet as I prepare to say it. “I know that I repulse you. So much so that you don’t want to be near me.”
My words hit their mark. Nate lets out a sound like I’ve punched him. A single tear escapes my eye and I shake my head. The last thing I want is pity. I don’t want his stammered apologies. I want to cry into a pillow.
I’ll go for a run. Pull myself together. Be normal.
I know this’ll be harder than any other time. Nate isn’t like Rob. He’s not even like when I lost Grandma. This is the kind of pain that might take me out. This is the kind of realization that is going to stick with me.
“I thought you didn’t like touching anyone,” I say.
“And you did with me when I needed you, but you didn’t like it and couldn’t wait for it to be over.
But then I saw you with Aaron this morning.
And then Mom reminded me you hug her all the time.
I looked back at the photos, and I realized that I’m the exception.
I’m the only one you don’t want near you.
” I take another breath, trying to keep it together.
“I shouldn’t have made you touch me.” I say it softly.
“I’m sorry about that. And I’m sorry about all the times before.
I’ll stay away. I just need some time to accept this. ”
The plan is to get back to the party. There’s no way for me to dance, but I might be able to find a corner to cry in. Scarlett will find me and I’ll beg to stay in her room on the couch until I can pull myself together. Eventually, I’ll be able to pretend that this doesn’t absolutely gut me.
But my plan crumbles when Nate’s hand wraps around my arm, and this time, I’m yanked to him. Instead of just pulling me a few inches, he’s pressing me into his chest so tightly that I can feel his entire body shaking.
I’m so shocked that I don’t pull away. I don’t think I can.
“I’m sorry,” he says into my hair. “I’m so fucking sorry. That’s not ... Maisie, you could never repulse me.”
“B-but I do.”
“You don’t. I swear to God you don’t.” He tightens his hold on me. I’m not sure if he’s trying to hug me or absorb me.
But I’m not complaining. I could never complain about this.
I need to pull away and ask questions. I need to clear more up, but the smell of his body wash, a mix of citrus and woods, is everywhere. I could pretend dancing would help. Or that drinking would numb the pain. But the only thing that could make me feel better is him .
Tears escape before I can stop them. What had started because of pain quickly turns into relief.
He doesn’t hate me. This is a misunderstanding.
I can take Rob hating me and move on. I can take almost anyone else feeling the same.
But not him. God , not him.
Nate’s hands go to the back of my head. He curls around me as if he could envelop me entirely.
And I’d let him.
“I’m sorry, Maisie. So sorry.” He’s said it already, but the repetition is what I need to hear. He continues to say it, even when he doesn’t have to.
We must look like fools to anyone around us. But I can’t bring myself to care .
“Why?” is all I can ask. My voice is as raw as the emotions inside of me.
He swallows. “You ... chose someone else.”
I tug away, a frown forming on my features. “I did not ?—”
“Maisie,” he says it calmly, but firmly. “You were with Rob. That changed things.”
“It didn’t have to.”