Chapter 3 #2
Unable to help the thoughts that creep into my mind… I may have wanted space from Jordan, but he didn’t even offer.
Maverick would never let me walk alone at night.
Mav
Maybe by the end of this bottle of beer, I’ll forget she’s even here. Chugging down the remaining contents of my Miller High Life, I peer over in Shay’s direction while placing the empty bottle on the counter.
Nope, still there.
She’s always there, taunting me with her presence. It’s bittersweet.
“Yo, I can’t believe this will be your last time partying with us,” Nola says, clapping onto Graham’s shoulder, causing the contents of his cup to splash over the rim.
“My bad,” Nola says, then continues. “For real, man, The Wolves Den won’t be the same without you. Who else is going to keep my ass in check?”
“He’s moving on to bigger and better things,” Nate says with a big smile. And he’s not wrong; Graham just got drafted to the New Orleans Phantoms and is only in town for graduation. I’m beyond proud of his success, but I’m sure as shit going to miss him.
“Guys, I said I wasn’t going to get emotional tonight,” Graham teases as he pretends to wipe away a tear.
“Don’t worry, cuz. We have two girls moving in to fill your emotional-ass shoes,” I joke, knowing he’s always been a girls’ guy anyway.
“I wouldn’t go that far. Willow isn’t much of the emotional type,” Nate replies, referring to his sister, who will be moving into his old room next semester. That earns him a swat on his arm from Berkley.
“Don’t let her hear you talking shit. She’ll kick your ass,” his girl says playfully.
Grabbing myself another beer, I turn my attention back to the party around me. I no longer have the perfect view of Shay and her shit boyfriend. Thank fuck. Not sure how much longer I was going to be able to stomach the sight of them together.
I sound like a fool pining over someone else’s girl, but I swear it wasn’t intentional.
Granted, I’m a huge flirt, and that’s how our relationship started, but over time, we’ve developed something far more than just friends.
It’s deep, and it’s unlike anything I’ve experienced before.
I know she feels it too; she’s told me as much herself. But shit’s complicated…
“Yo, you good?” Cash asks, bumping his shoulder into mine. I plaster on a winning smile and turn to him. “I’m great, bubs. Where’s Bell?”
“She went to find Darby. For real, what’s going on? It’s our last party of the year, and you’re not your usual pain-in-the-ass bubbly self.”
“I’m good, I swear. Just soaking it all in.”
“If you say so…” my twin says before leaving me to stew. He doesn’t believe a word out of my mouth, but I’m thankful he’s not pressing me for more. I’m one too many drinks in to have that conversation with him.
I watch as Nola takes to the dance floor in the center of our living room.
Commanding the attention of the room as he dances around rapping along to Lil Wayne’s “6 Foot 7 Foot.” Within a few seconds, my stepsister, Bellamy, is out there, going word for word along with him.
The two of them love doing this shit and can’t wait to see if The Wolves Den karaoke comes to fruition.
Willow and Bellamy keep mentioning that they’re going to hook us up with a microphone for next semester.
Nola’s hyped, but Cash isn’t too thrilled.
But in all honesty, if Bell wants it, he’s not going to turn it down.
And me, I’m a sucker for some karaoke… Don’t threaten me with a good time.
The song switches to Chapelle Roan’s “Pink Pony Club,” and the floor becomes crowded with every girl at the party, and even some guys, all singing along. I chuckle when I see Nola’s one of them. Scanning every person, I try to spot one blonde in particular.
“She left,” a gruff voice says at my side. I tilt my head, already knowing who I’m going to find…
Jordan.
I must be giving off a confused expression because I don’t even get a word out before he adds, “Don’t act like you weren’t just searching the room for her.
I’m usually very easy-going—outside of the rink, of course—and like to laugh and have a good time.
It takes a lot to get to me, but there’s just something about this fuckhead that really makes my blood boil.
And to be perfectly clear, it’s not only because he’s dating the girl of my dreams. There’s something else there…
Like Hans from Frozen, he’s not to be trusted.
Because, fuck that dude! And yes, I’m well-versed in the Disney world; Jules used to be obsessed.
“Cool, I’ll text her later,” I reply, then take another swig of the forgotten beer in my hand. I’m not in the mood to deal with him, and if he says something stupid…there’s no telling what I might do.
“Ya know, you should try not to sneer at me every time I’m around. I’m the one allowing your little friendship to continue.”
My mood changes in an instant as I shift my stance. Granted, Jordan is tall, but for a basketball player, he’s not that tall. He may have an inch or two on me. But size is on my side, and I make sure he sees it as I square off with him.
“Care to repeat that?” I practically growl.
This smug prick is too dumb to realize this is his chance to back away. “Tread carefully, Maverick. I wouldn’t want to have to tell Shay how unhinged her best friend is,” he taunts.
Have I mentioned that I really fucking hate this guy? But deep down, I know he’s right. If I were to knock this motherfucker out, Shay might never forgive me, and that’s not something I’m willing to risk.
“I think it’s time you scurry on home, Jordan.”
With that, he finishes his beer, drops the can onto my kitchen floor, and walks away.
It takes everything in me not to pick up his trash and pelt him in the back of the head with it. But I refrain. Only for Shay’s sake. But I ask myself the same question, time and time again.
What could she possibly see in him?
Shay
A sleeve of Chips Ahoy cookies is gone, my craving complete with a milk mustache. I lie in my bed and do something I know I shouldn’t. Something I should’ve deleted the night it happened. But instead, I hid it in my phone, proving every word Jordan said to me is correct.
Maverick means more to me than I’ve ever been willing to admit.
After a few too many drinks that night, I was practically begging him to tell me how he really feels about me. I’ve chalked it up to us both being tipsy and flirting being Maverick’s main means of communication, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t reread the messages a hundred times.
Mav
I couldn’t take my eyes off you tonight
Me
And why is that?
Mav
Well really I can never take my eyes off you but tonight you had me imagining things I shouldn’t…
ME
Like what?
Mav
I don’t think you really wanna know.
Me
Tell me, I want to know.
Mav
Just how tonight would end if you were mine.
Me
How would it end?
Mav
Shay…
Me
Mav… Tell me.
The last part of the conversation was the only thing I had the chance to delete as Jordan waltzed into my bedroom.
But I still remember.