Chapter 32

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Collin stood in shocked stillness, the crowd undulating around him. But he was a buoy in a stormy sea, allowing himself to bob along in the waves as his mind tried to comprehend the image before his eyes.

Heather was dancing with a guy who was shorter, slim, and had buzzed red hair. A glimpse of his profile under the rotating lights confirmed who it was: that creep, Brandon.

Her arms were hanging around his neck as his hands grabbed onto her hips possessively. Her eyes were half-closed and her head was nodding in beat with the music.

If it was any other guy, Collin would have understood. He had fucked up, and she was cutting loose. She didn't owe him anything. They hadn't made any commitments to each other, and they'd only first kissed a few days ago.

Sure, a spike of jealousy would have jabbed at him no matter who she was dancing with. But Brandon? Stalker Brandon? That was just wrong.

As he stood, letting his body be pushed and pulled by the currents of the masses, he noticed Brandon lean forward and whisper something in Heather's ear. Collin couldn't tell, but he thought she nodded in agreement, and then he led her towards the bar.

Collin felt paralyzed. What was the right move in this situation?

If he followed them to the bar, would that just cause a confrontation? He wanted to talk to Heather, not get into a bar brawl.

But if he did nothing, would he regret it?

Would she regret it?

Sam appeared in front of him, grabbing his attention. "Did you see her?" Sam yelled over the music.

"Unfortunately," Collin said into Sam's ear. "She was dancing with an ex."

"Really?" Sam seemed surprised. "Veronica said she had gone to the bathroom."

"I don't think they liked this guy. Or that's the vibe I got when we ran into him before."

Sam shook her head. "It's too fucking loud to talk." She pointed over to the bar with her lips and then tugged on his arm.

"But the Onicas will see me," he protested.

That didn't stop Sam, and she continued to tug him. Without putting up more resistance, he followed her through the dancers and out into a dark pocket of space along the back wall of the room.

"Okay," she said. "Who is this ex?"

Collin told her about the first time they had gone out dancing and the confrontation on the bridge. "That's why I'm surprised she was dancing with him, of all people," he finished.

Sam nodded, her eyes squinting. "I think Tom is trying to get our attention."

She was right. Tom was waving at them and his eyes were wide. "I guess the Onicas know that I'm here."

When Collin and Sam reached the bar, Tom was standing there alone in front of an untouched pint of beer and two half-finished cosmos.

"Where'd they go?" Sam asked.

"They went to go to the bathroom to find Heather. But, I think they found her somewhere else." He gestured to the other end of the bar where Brandon was grabbing one tall glass with amber liquid–probably a Long Island Iced Tea–and was handing it to Heather. He hadn't ordered anything for himself. A moment later, Veronica and Monica were standing next to their friend.

Collin couldn't hear what was being said, but even from across the bar, it was clear that the Onicas weren't happy. Brandon looked like he was trying to placate them and Heather was waving them away. After a moment of protesting, they turned and headed back.

"Do they know I'm here?" Collin asked his friends, who both just shrugged in response.

The Onicas pushed through the crowd and reappeared next to Tom. Before Collin could even say hi, Veronica spoke, her blond hair flipping over her shoulder. "She's really pissed at you, you know."

"I know," Collin answered, wishing he wasn't so sober. Maybe he should order himself a drink. "It was a misunderstanding. I really need to clear things up with her."

Veronica and Monica glanced at each other. Collin wished he knew them well enough to read their expressions.

"We liked you, you know," Monica told him, reaching for her cosmo.

"Really?" he asked. It hadn't occurred to him that Heather's friends would have positive feelings about her seeing a trans guy.

They both rolled their eyes. "For someone who was born a girl, you really are as dumb as a guy," Veronica snarked.

"Hey!" Tom interjected. Then he picked up his beer and took a sip.

Sam laughed.

Collin had no response.

"Don't let her leave with him," Veronica said, scowling in the direction where Heather and Brandon had disappeared back into the dancing throng.

"We never liked him," Monica said.

"We don't trust him," Veronica added.

"If she isn't talking to me, I'm not sure what you want me to do." Collin shook his head. This night wasn't going how he had planned.

Sam tugged on Collin's sleeve. "Let's dance." Then she walked into the gyrating mass, expecting Collin to follow.

Collin knew better than to argue. He wasn't sure if she was expecting him to cut in and start dancing with Heather, or if she was just steering him close enough to keep an eye on her. As if he wanted to see some other guy groping the girl he was falling for.

Tom stayed behind at the bar with the Onicas. They had finished their cosmos and were ordering another round. He hoped Tom wasn't buying their drinks. If he was, Collin definitely owed him a round of tips.

Some David Guetta song with a quicker tempo was playing, and as Collin crashed into the crowd, he felt a tingle of panic quiver at the base of his spine. "Look at all these white boys jumping like fucking jack rabbits," Sam shouted.

"Watch out. I'm a white boy, you know," Collin retorted.

She laughed, backing into the crowd, pulling him along like a tugboat steering an ocean liner into port.

As the song faded out, a new beat mixing in and taking over, Collin still hadn't glimpsed either Heather's auburn hair or Brandon's red buzz.

"Do you see them?" he asked.

"No, not yet," Sam answered as she continued to groove and navigate the tangle of bodies.

Collin tried getting on his tiptoes to see over people's heads, but under the flashing pink and yellow lights, he just couldn't figure out if they were camouflaged by the crowd, or if they had left the dancefloor all together.

"Shit, there they are!" Sam pointed.

Collin swiveled his head just in time to see auburn hair wobbling down the stairs. "I'm going after them," Collin announced.

"Let me go tell Tom and the Onicas." Sam headed in the opposite direction.

The mass of dancers was thick, and Collin was swimming against the tide as he tried to make it to the exit. He hoped that once Sam reached the bar that Heather's friends would be on their way behind him. After that last text from Heather, he didn't know if he had any right to swoop her away from some guy who, as far as Collin could tell, just saw Heather as an object. That job belonged to her friends.

Finally, he made it to the stairs. There was a crowd of fraternity-types muscling their way up to the bar, so Collin had to press his back against the wall to let them by. Then he dove through the exit door and out into the fresh air.

He turned his head to the right, toward the Holiday Inn, and then to the left. But there was no sign of Heather or Brandon in either direction, and that gave Collin had an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach.

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