Don't Stand By Me (COMPLETE)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

VIOLET

August 2nd: 21:10

I may have been slightly maybe majorly a teeny weeny smidgey bit drunk. Only a smidge! At least that's what I told myself as I threw back another shot, wincing at the taste. It felt like an awkward night - for me at least. Pearl and Cassie were cuffed together, giggling and dancing. Elvis and Dixon were dancing together with Kiara who was actually just staring at Cassie with steam pouring out of her ears. And Brent stood awkwardly on the sideline, holding his one singular beer that he hadn't even taken a sip from, instead using it as something to keep him grounded.

I knew all his tricks. He hated dancing, for one, especially in nightclubs. He had never once enjoyed a night on the town I had managed to drag him to, and despite willingly coming along, he would complain every second of the night until I eventually gave up and brought him home. At first, I thought he didn't like drinking, until we started having small 'gatherings' at my apartment and sometimes his and he would have the time of his life, eight beers in, sprawled across his couch and pulling faces at me.

It was those moments I had loved Brent the most; when he was simply Brent. Not the jock, the asshole, crude and mean. He was just a guy who loved his girlfriend and enjoyed spending time with her.

I had thought a lot, in the brief time since our relationship had collapsed, how it had collapsed so quickly despite how long we were together and how much I thought I had loved him. The relief I had felt once we had broken up, despite thinking I would never recover if we ever did. It occurred to me that sometimes you hold on because you're afraid of wasting the potential of what you've created, giving up the memories of the past even though the present doesn't even hold a candle to it.

At least that's what I told myself. I had hoped he felt the same but he hadn't so much as looked in my direction without scowling since we had broken up. He hadn't looked at anyone really with anything less than unbridled animosity - except for Pearl.

That was something that stuck out to me that morning, watching as her eyes constantly flew to Brent everytime he so much as stretched his arms above his head. He wasn't any better, staring at her unabashedly whenever she got up to use the bathroom awkwardly chaperoned by Elvis or Cassie. They weren't even trying to hide it and it was hilarious.

I expected myself to feel jealous or angry towards them but all I could muster up was sheer curiosity; I wanted to see how this went. I wanted to essentially chuck them in a room together and see how long it took for sparks to fly. If only all ex-girlfriends were as cool and gracious as myself.

"Maybe you should pace yourself."

I rolled my eyes before plastering a smile on my face and turning to face Brent, cradling that same beer and looking at me with an expression of boredom.

"Oh, so you're speaking to me now?"

"Violet."

I deflated instantly, "Sorry. I don't want to fight with you."

"Do you want to dance?"

"Dance? With you?" Brent Williams wanted to dance? With me? Was I in a coma?

"Do you want to or not?"

"S-sure."

We danced in the middle of the floor, somewhat awkwardly as we moved around each other, drinks clutched in our hands like lifelines so we didn't have to touch each other. The beat slowed and I could see Elvis and Dixon cosy up out of the corner of my eye and I couldn't help but smile softly.

"I'm trying." Brent said, loudly over the music but still barely audible, "I'm trying to be around you without feeling like I hate you and you ruined me. Because that's not fair."