Adam
Of course, she did.
That’s the theme of the night, because even though I should be focusing on how kick ass the Alpha Sigma Halloween boat party turned out, I can’t focus on anything or anyone but Cassie.
Of course, she showed up to the boat dock with Grayson, and of course, they took the boat I wasn’t on to get out to the sandbar.
Of course, she wore a tight, incredibly sexy, white, two-piece swim suit, one that crosses over her chest in just the right way to remind me how hot that body of hers is, the one she usually hides under modest dresses and blouses.
Of course, she dressed up as Cleopatra, complete with a golden headband that makes her green eyes even more distracting than usual.
Of course, she stayed on the opposite end of the sandbar, cozying up with Grayson in a beach chair and tossing her head back like he was the funniest man in the whole goddamn world.
Of course, she did.
I’ve been trying to ignore her, trying to enjoy myself, but it’s been largely unsuccessful.
Play a game of beer pong, search out Cassie in the crowd.
Judge the costume contest, watch Cassie dance with Grayson on the Mummies and Mimosas boat.
Do a keg stand, hear Cassie’s laugh from across the sandbar as she slides off one of the boat slides into the ocean.
It’s maddening, especially since the last time I talked to her I made a complete and total ass of myself.
And the strangest thing is that all day, all I want is for her to come talk to me.
Until the exact moment she does.
“Hey, you,” she says, wading out into the water to where I’m standing. The sun is starting to set, so all eyes are on the shoreline in the distance, watching as bright oranges and pinks streak the sky.
I swallow, tucking one hand into the pocket of my board shorts, the other holding my red plastic cup of beer. “Well, if it isn’t Queen Cleopatra. Nice headdress.” I tap the gold piece hanging over the bridge of her nose with my finger and she giggles.
“Thanks. And you’re…” She pauses, eying my open collared, relaxed fit, white shirt tucked into my dark blue board shorts. A simple, red cloth belt separates the two, and a sword is fastened to my hip. “A rookie pirate?”
I laugh. “Prince Eric, but thanks for crushing my spirits.”
“Prince Eric,” she deadpans, and I shrug, offering her a sheepish smile. “A little late for that, don’t you think?”
The weight of those words slam into my chest like a boulder, and I lift my cup to my lips instead of answering her, eyes back on the sunset. She dressed up as the Little Mermaid last year, and instead of dressing up as Prince Eric then, I’d chosen Danny Zuko from Grease to match Skyler.
“Having fun?” I ask after a moment.
“So much fun,” she says, crossing her arms lightly over her middle and facing the sunset, too. “You really are making a name for Alpha Sigma, Adam. You should be proud.”
I don’t know why it hurts when she says those words, when she says anything, really. It’s like hearing any semblance of love from her kills me, like it’d almost be easier if she just hated me.
“I am, of some things, at least. Not so much about that phone call I made.” I peek at her in my peripheral.
“We all drunk dial sometimes,” she answers easily, eyes still on the shoreline.
Grayson comes splashing through the water and picks Cassie up from behind, spinning her around as she kicks and squeals. “There’s my queen!”
“Put me down, you animal,” she teases.
When he drops her feet back into the water, she pecks him on the lips, and I tear my eyes away, thankful I have my sunglasses to hide behind.
“Hey, Brooks,” Grayson says, as if he just saw me standing there.
He’s dressed as Mark Anthony, Cleopatra’s one true love, and suddenly I feel a little foolish in my own costume.
“Great party. Seriously. And, hey, no hard feelings about the dodgeball game. You guys won fair and square.” He holds out his hand toward me. “Truce?”
I grit my teeth, wanting more than anything to smack his hand away and tell him to eat a dick, but I grab his hand and shake it firmly instead. “Yeah, man, and thanks.”
He turns back to Cassie. “The first boat is about to head back to shore,” he says, twisting a strand of her hair between two fingers.
“I was thinking maybe we should be on it… take this party back to my place.” He runs those same two fingers across her collarbone and over her shoulder, trailing them all the way down her arm before tucking them into the band of her swimsuit bottoms.
Chugging the rest of my beer, I keep my eyes on the sun, now starting to dip beneath the clouds just above the horizon. Every muscle in my entire body is tense, so much so that I’m sure I’ll wake up sore in the morning.
“Yeah,” she answers breathily, and my cup cracks in my grip. “Just give me a minute. I’ll meet you by our beach chairs?”
I feel Grayson’s stare drilling into the side of my head, but ignore it, pretending like I’m not listening to their conversation. “Okay. But hurry, they’re loading people up now.”
“I’ll be right there,” she promises, kissing him once more before he’s wading back up to the sandbar.
I don’t know how long we stand there, silent, her eyes on me and mine focused in the distance. In my mind it’s both forever and just a split second, so I’m not sure which it really is before I completely lose all common sense and rationality.
“You’re going to sleep with him.”
It’s not a question. I don’t want her to answer, but she does, anyway.
“He’s my boyfriend, Adam…”
I grit my teeth so hard a sharp pain rips through my jaw and I crush the empty cup in my hand, the broken edges of the plastic digging into my palm.
“Don’t,” I say, finally turning to face her. “Don’t leave with him, Cassie.”
Her bottom lip is pinned between her teeth and I use every ounce of willpower I have left to keep from pulling her into me and sucking that lip between mine, instead. She feels like mine, even when she’s not. And I don’t know how to make that go away. Or, if I even want to.
“How can you ask that of me?”
I push a heavy breath through my nose, pinching the bridge of it with a shake of my head. “I don’t know. I guess the real answer is that I can’t, not really, but I am anyway.”
“I think I love him,” she whispers, watching where she’s wringing her hands together before looking up at me through dark lashes.
I scrub a hand over my face, feeling so out of control I want to scream. It’s like being trapped in a slow-motion car crash with a broken seatbelt.
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
She scoffs, dropping her hand to her thigh with a slap. “Unbelievable.” She shakes her head. “You don’t have to say a damn thing to that, Adam, because it doesn’t matter what you think about it. It’s how I feel. And, yes, I’m leaving with him tonight. That’s where your need to know ends.”
“He doesn’t deserve you,” I spit, desperate, latching onto anything I think will make her stay, knowing nothing will.
“And you do?” she asks on a laugh. Stepping closer, she lowers her voice. “This isn’t your decision to make, Adam. You don’t own me.”
I press my lips into a hard line, and when she turns for the shore I involuntarily reach for her, just late enough to not even brush her skin before she’s too far gone.
I watch her leave, watch her walk all the way up to the shore, to Grayson, who wraps her in his arms with a long kiss.
His stare lands on me afterward, making sure I saw, and then he tucks her under his arm and steers her toward the boat loading up to leave.
And just before she steps on, Cassie looks back at me, and what I find in her eyes almost knocks me to my knees. Because it’s not love, or apology — but pity, and I feel it all the way to my core.
She knows it as well as I do.
It’s her who owns me.
***
There are only five yachts left on the sandbar by the time midnight hits, and the captains we hired to drive tell us we have one hour left before they need to take us in. Not that I need another hour to get tanked, because I landed there roughly twenty minutes after Cassie was gone.
A little beer sloshes out of my cup and into the water below as I take a drink, elbows resting on the rail at the back of the Gin and Jack-O-Lantern yacht.
I watch the shore with heavy eyes, knowing she’s there somewhere, in bed with another man.
I don’t want to torture myself, don’t want to be pathetic, but I’m powerless to change the way I feel — at least for the night.
So, I let it happen, let the longing fill me from the inside out, suffocating to the point of barely breathing.
Who needs air anyway, right?
“You’re looking very Hamlet for someone who just hosted the best party of the year.”
Skyler slides up next to me, stealing my beer from my hand and lifting it to her lips. My hand is still molded to the shape of the cup even though it’s gone now, and I hold it out over the rail, the shore lights blurring a bit as I turn to face her.
“Hi, stranger.”
She smiles. “Hi, yourself.”
Skyler and I broke up on civil terms last semester, even going so far as to fuck one last time before we called it quits. Still, we’ve barely spoken since, not even sharing more than a few “likes” on social media over the summer and no more than two words since school started back.
I can’t explain why, but breath comes a little easier with her beside me.
“You’re not a Fanta girl like the rest of your crew,” I observe, eyeing the red Spandex one-piece painted on her body.
“Baywatch,” she answers on a sigh. “Bear was supposed to be my David Hasselhoff, but he’s not talking to me as of twelve hours ago, so…”
“What happened?”
She scrunches her nose. “I don’t really want to talk about it, honestly. If that’s okay.”