Chapter 21
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
MAISIE
I think I’m drunk for the first time like… ever?
Maybe just tipsy?
Maybe a liiiiiiitttttle bit drunk.
Not that I have very much to go off, but my arms feel so loose and heavy at the same time, and the music is so perfect, and I’m having so much fun.
I’m so glad that I didn’t stay home tonight, but even more glad that I have Bennett bringing me these fruity drinks every time I finish one.
This is number three. Or is it four? No, no, it’s number five.
The room sways slightly around me, and I blink, trying to keep myself upright.
“Taking a break, ’kay? Gonna go sit,” I mutter to Lennon, whose eyes are as glassy as mine. We’ve spent the last… I dunno how long giggling on the dance floor, while Saint and Bennett hovered over us like we’re princesses seeing the real world for the first time.
He’s soooo ridiculous, but I am thankful that he’s all… protective over my bestie.
I slowly make my way over to an empty table near the dance floor and wave to Lennon once I sink down into the chair.
She somehow ropes Saint into dancing, which is freaking hilarious since his version of dancing is mostly standing there while she grabs his hips and moves them to the music, his expression his signature broody.
What’s actually surprising is that as ridiculous as Bennett usually is with the flirting, he’s mostly just been sweet and fun. He’s flirted, duh. I think it’s actually his defense mechanism to the world, but he’s really just danced and laughed along with me and Len.
The total polar opposite of his bestie.
I cover my mouth when a giggle slips free at the thought of Saint hearing me refer to Bennett as his bestie.
A slower melody with a sensual, sultry beat moves through the speakers, and the lights on the dance floor dim slightly.
Lennon and Saint move together to the music, pressed tightly together, and Bennett has found another girl to dance with, which leaves me alone, sitting here, watching all of the couples dance together while I swirl my straw around my drink.
I groan out loud as I bring the glass to my lips and toss the rest of it back. Although I should prooooobably stop drinking since I am like six drinks past what my limit likely is.
I’m probably going to have the worst headache ever tomorrow.
But soooooo worth it.
It’s my freaking twenty-first birthday, and I deserve to have fun.
These are supposed to be the best years of my life. Not the wasted years of my life.
Lennon was so right.
I shouldn’t even be thinking about Wilder right now, but of course, my drunken thoughts wander to him, and I sigh.
I’m pulling my phone out of my cross-body clutch before I even really think about it, opening my email app to a new email.
Chewing my lip, I hover my fingers over the screen. It’s blurry, the letters slightly running together, so I squint to focus.
From: [email protected]
Subject: You’re a dick
Coach Hawthorne,
I’m probably going to regret this email tomorrow, but right now I don’t care. Not even a little bit.
Actually, the amount that I care doesn’t even exist.
It’s my twenty-first birthday, and I’m out at a club with my friends, and have had approximately five, no six, of the best fruity drinks and I’m having sooooo much fun.
Srsly, if you’ve never had a drink at Rue Rouge, you’re missing out, but then again… you’re good at missing out, aren’t you??
Anyyywaayyyyyy
Just wanted you to know that I don’t care that you’re a dick, and I don’t care about your stupid dick either.
It wasn’t memorable. I haven’t even thought about it.
I paused my amazing time to tell you that I don’t care about you, and now I’m going to go back to yet another delicious drink and guess what… I’m going to go dance with your favorite person, the star goalie of your team.
I’m sure he’ll appreciate me
I’m giggling to myself before I even press Send, absolutely about to lose it over the fact that I just typed this ridiculous, slightly childish, and petty email to Wilder.
I am like… eighty percent certain that I’ll regret it tomorrow in a sober mind, but right now, it feels so freaking good.
Serves him right.
The lie about his dick was truly the icing on the cake.
THE BIRTHDAY CAKE.
Now I’m laughing at myself even harder as I shove my phone back in my clutch and stand up just as the song switches. Thank Goddddd, back to something upbeat and fun so I can go back to the dance floor to my friends.
Wilder’s still a thought in the back of my mind, but I push it away and make a promise to myself to enjoy the rest of my night.
His loss.