Romantic Diversity

Chapter Three (Kyle)

Kit suggested that we go to a party. He doesn't know that last time I was at a party, I died. But I don't want to ruin the fun. So, us three walk towards the nearest house filled with lights. We dodge trick-or-treaters left and right.  I walk behind Kit and Tate and watch, I watch Tate stride across the sidewalk. His shoulders are set back and he stands tall. His black shirt is tight against his body to where I can see the outline of his muscles. I feel a strange pang in my stomach, but then I think of Zoe. I can't do that to her, so I look away from Tate's body to the other side of the street.

We follow the blaring music which leads up to a mansion. We walk up towards the house and are greeted by who I'm guessing is the host. 

"Hey," he mumbles, "welcome to the party," he hands us a red solo cup. Kit and Tate take it without a second guess. However, I stare at the boy and try to read him. I slowly take the cup and look inside. It just looks like alcohol, but there could be other stuff in it. I follow Kit and Tate inside the house and set the drink on the nearest table, can never be too careful. I make a promise to myself to not take a sip of anything here. 

Once I look up from setting the cup down, Tate and Kit are out of sight. I shove through the crowd with only one person in mind, Tate. No, I stop dead in my tracks. Tate? Why am I thinking of Tate? I get the pang in my stomach again, like butterflies. I continue searching for him, then I find him. I turn a corner into an empty room. Only, it isn't empty. A blonde boy sits in the corner on the floor. His arms wrapped around his knees and his head buried in his arms. He's crying.

"Tate?" he lifts his head from his arms. His cheeks are flushed and his face it wet. The tears stop and disgust spreads across his face.

"What do you want?" he grunts. I bend down so I'm face to face with him.

"Are you okay?" I extend my hand out, prepared to touch his shoulder.

"No," he jumps to his feet, "you don't know anything about me!" he roared. He wiped his tears and stormed out of the room, disappearing into the crowd of sweaty bodies and flashing lights. I jog after him but get jammed into the crowd. I wedge my way through the group and stumble to regain my balance. I run into someone and turn to apologize, but it's Kit.

"Hey, Kyle," he slurs his words. He stumbles a little and liquid splashes out of his cup, "whoops," he laughs. 

"Have you seen Tate?" Kit's face get's soft.

"Oh," he purses his lips, "why do you wanna know?" he gives me that look, that you like him, look.

"I'm worried about him," Kit's face hardens.

"Tate," he pauses, "Tate has a rough past," he tries to walk away, as if he's trying to avoid the conversation. I give him a confused look, so he continues, "It's not my place to tell, Kyle," I'm about to push him for more information but someone runs up to me.

"Common, Man," he holds up a bottle of something, "loosen up, it's a party," before I can respond, the boy poars the liquid into my mouth and everything goes black.