damien
TWENTY-FOUR
THEN
Jessica’s best friend Tiffany was nice. And that was the problem. Tiffany was nice, and I was supposedly the perfect person for her. Her crush on me was super obvious and, for a moment, I wished I was into her because it would make everything easier.
Tiffany was pretty in a cheerleader sort of way. The perfect ponytail. The bright smile and shining white teeth. The perky tits. She was cute, and yeah, maybe in another life I could’ve mustered up some attraction for her, but apparently my dick was a one-person man, or a one-man dick.
The party we were at was loud and everyone was drunk.
Including Sam and his girlfriend, who were practically humping in the middle of the makeshift dance floor.
Jessica had her tongue down Sam’s throat, and he had his hand under her skirt.
The room smelled of spilled beer and a sickening mixture of Axe body spray and still, somehow, armpit.
I leaned against a wall and held a drink in my hand.
I’d poured out half when I went to the bathroom to make it look like I’d been drinking.
I’d gone so far as to take a few sips to mask my minty fresh breath.
Though I hated losing the taste of Callum.
Especially since I didn’t know if he’d ever look at me again, let alone let me kiss him.
I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. Not after the way I’d just fucking abandoned him.
Tiffany appeared at my side again, a fresh drink for me in her hand. Her face fell when she saw that I still had a drink.
“Oh.” She stood there, awkwardly holding two drinks. Why did she have to be so nice? If she was awful, I could ditch her and not feel bad about it. I’d been over this party before we’d even arrived, but Sam had wanted to come. And so had Tiffany.
I took the drink from her and set my half-empty one aside next to a stack of other abandoned red Solo cups that lined the little side table I’d parked myself next to.
“It was warm anyway.” I had to lean closer to be heard above the music.
I hated that clearly she’d been given a different description of how tonight was going to go.
I bet she thought that we’d be enjoying ourselves in a similar fashion to our best friends.
It made everything uncomfortable as fuck because I didn’t want to make small talk and give her hope that it was going to go anywhere.
But flat out ignoring her felt mean. She could have any guy in the place, and she still stood next to me, even though I’d barely said ten words to her all night.
“It’s hot in here.” Tiffany leaned closer than necessary, pressing her body against mine. “Aren’t you hot?”
“I’m fine.” I was boiling, actually. But I knew she was trying to get me alone as if cornering me would get her what she wanted. Oh how I wished that Sam hadn’t tried to play matchmaker.
“Come outside with me. I don’t want to go by myself.”
I didn’t want her to go by herself either, not when most of the people here were half-cut.
I nodded and tried to ignore the way her face lit up before she turned and led me through the crowd of people, over the sticky floors and out the back door.
The deck had a few people huddled around one of the patio heaters, but Tiffany veered off to the other side of the deck, away from them.
The air outside was cold, but not intolerable, and it actually was refreshing compared to the stale, overheated air inside the house.
I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the railing of the deck. Tiffany, again, stood next to me. Too close for comfort.
“You don’t like me much, do you?” she asked.
I let out a sigh and tried to figure out how best to answer that question. After a brief deliberation, I went with a version of the truth.
“I’m kind of hung up on somebody else right now. So, like, it wouldn’t be fair to lead you on, or whatever.”
“Ugh.” She copied my position, resting her arms on the railing of the deck. “I told Jessica that this was a bad idea. I mean, if you were interested in me, you’ve had plenty of chances to say so. It’s not like we don’t go to the same school or anything.”
“Sorry.”
“Not your fault. I tried to tell her. Having a best friend sucks sometimes.”
“Facts.” I bumped my cup against Tiffany’s even though I had no intention of taking a drink.
“Can we at least pretend that… never mind. If you’re hung up on someone you wouldn’t want to send them mixed messages.”
I didn’t know what to tell her, so I said nothing.
Outside was nicer than inside had been, and even though it was getting colder, I still didn’t want to go back inside.
There were too many people. Too much noise.
It would’ve been tolerable if Callum was there.
Then I wouldn’t have minded the noise and the annoying drunk teenagers.
Tiffany and I both jumped at the sound of a crash coming from inside the house. People screamed in anger, not fear or panic. The back door flung open and someone came flying through, spilling out onto the deck.
More people followed after him and suddenly there was a fight in the back yard between two people I was sure I’d never seen before.
“I think that’s our cue to leave.” I wound my arm around Tiffany’s shoulders and steered her back into the house. I found Sam and Jessica tangled up together on one of the recliners, trading lazy kisses, too drunk to care about where they were and who was watching.
“You get your best friend, and I’ll get mine,” I told her, abandoning my drink.
With a little help, Tiffany managed to peel Jessica off of Sam, and we coaxed them out to Sam’s car.
We dumped them in the back seat, and I had to fish Sam’s keys out of his pocket, which he thought was hilarious and was of zero help whatsoever.
“Am I dropping Jessica off at her house or yours?”
“Hers. Her parents are away for the weekend.”
The drive wasn’t quiet. It was actually pretty annoying with Sam and Jessica in the back seat acting like drunk idiots. They giggled and made out, and at one point I was pretty sure things were going further than that, and that’s when Tiffany whirled around.
“Jessica! Can you fucking not?”
Jessica gasped, then devolved into another giggle fit, but at least the almost-sex noises stopped.
By the time I pulled into Jessica’s driveway, she was mostly unconscious, and I left Sam passed out in the back seat to help Tiffany get Jessica inside.
“For a tiny person, she sure weighs a fucking ton,” I grumbled as I half carried, half dragged Jessica to her room. I dropped her unceremoniously onto her bed and took a deep breath.
“Thanks for helping me. I’d never have gotten her inside by myself.”
“Make sure she has a bucket nearby. And good luck.”
Tiffany smiled at me. “You too.”
“One drunk down. One to go.”
Sam was still out cold when I returned to the car, and only mildly coherent when I made him wake up enough to help me drag his ass upstairs.
Unlike Jessica’s parents, Sam’s were home and they noticed me bringing him inside.
His mom came to his room with a bottle of pain killers, a couple bottles of water, and a bucket.
“Get him to drink some water, if you can,” she said sleepily, patting my cheek after I took the supplies from her. “I’m going back to bed. Tell him that he’s grounded, will you?”
That made me smile. “I will. Good night.”
Sam wasn’t conscious enough to drink more than half a bottle of water.
I left him in his clothes and rolled him onto his side.
I put the water and the pills on the nightstand next to him, and the bucket on the floor in easy reach.
I used his other pillow to shove behind him as a wedge to keep him from rolling over.
And then I crept out of the room and down the hall. I didn’t knock on Callum’s door. I opened it quietly and slipped inside. The room was dark, and I couldn’t tell if he was awake or asleep.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my throat closing up as it tried to strangle the emotion out of my voice.
“I don’t blame you if you hate me. I just—I didn’t have a choice.
I didn’t want to go, but Sam—” I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself.
“What could I say? Sorry, I can’t hang out with you because I want to stay in and hump your brother? ”
A muffled laugh broke Callum’s silence. “You’re the worst,” he said, but there was no heat in it. Just sadness.
“I know.” This thing between us was never going to work, but I wanted it to.
“How are you in here right now? What about Sam?” Callum asked.
My eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, and I saw Callum shift around on his bed so he was sitting up, leaning against his headboard. My back was pressed against his bedroom door, like I had to keep the most distance possible or I’d snap myself against his body like two magnets coming together.
“Sam is wasted. I practically had to drag him upstairs. He’s sleeping it off.”
The silence was so thick, it was basically a third person in the room. A presence itself, all heavy and oppressive. Judgmental as fuck too. I tried not to squirm under the weight of it, but I felt like there was no good decision to be made.
Either I gave up Callum, and even the idea of that killed me. Or we continued to sneak around and hope that it didn’t end in disaster.
Callum hadn’t even come out as gay yet. He avoided the whole girlfriend issue by throwing himself into his schoolwork, but one day he might want a boyfriend.
One he could go out with in public and hold hands with.
Someone he could be seen with. Someone who wouldn’t hide him, who wouldn’t implode his life.
But when Callum patted the bed next to him, I went anyway. He didn’t even have to say anything. I was at his command. I sat next to him and looked down, watching the way he reached for my hand and tangled our fingers together.
“This is a bad idea,” he whispered.
“I know.” My heart thrashed in my chest. The house was silent except for the constant thud of my heart, which I was sure everyone could hear.
“But I want to do it anyway,” he admitted and a soft, relieved sort of laugh bubbled out of me.
“Me too.”
Callum leaned forward, and his other hand slid up my neck until he was holding the side of my face as he pulled me into a kiss. And then pulled back again. I could almost make out his facial expression, the wrinkle of his brow, the look of suspicion in his eyes.
“You taste like booze. How much did you drink?”
“Just a swallow here and there to keep people from annoying me. Good thing too, because I was able to get us out of there when shit started going too nuts.”
“So you’re not drunk? I wouldn’t be taking advantage of you.
” Callum’s hand slid lower, trailing its way down my chest. It settled at my waist and he leaned in again.
His lips brushed against mine once more, feathery soft, and I had to stop myself from moaning when his hand slid a little lower, skimming over the bulge in my pants.
“Can we?” Callum whispered.
It was a stupid move. Everyone was home. Everyone was sleeping. Any one of them could wake up and hear us. And yet I couldn’t say no. I lacked the willpower to turn him down.
“We can,” I whispered back, unable to refuse Callum.