Reckless

Chapter 18| Dakota Anderson [REWRITTEN]

    Keegan leaned close to Quinton while still looking at me. "Who is he talking about?"

    "I have no idea." Quinton hissed back. "He's been rambling on for the past twenty minutes."

    "And his ass," I groaned. "Have you seen it in that one pair of jeans he wears? I mean, oh my God. I want to put my teeth in it."

    Keegan frowned thoughtfully. "Have we missed something? Quick! Think back to all the people Dakota has said he wants to bang in the past week."

    "I seriously doubt Blake Lively is into high school boys." Quinton said. "Plus, isn't she married?"

    "Oh, man." Keegan moaned painfully. "That's got to be a bisexual crisis right there. Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds. Dakota, was watching Green Lantern a bisexual crisis for you?" He turned to Quinton. "Dude, we are so inconsiderate! We made Dakota watch superhero movies every weekend when we were fourteen without even considering the ramifications of what that much hotness would do to a chaotic bisexual! Did I use that term correctly? Dakota, are you a chaotic bisexual? Whatever, I'm rolling with it. Oh, dude. We are so sorry!"

    Quinton snorted in amusement. "He's drunk and somehow still sounds poetic while lamenting about whoever he's got a crush on right now. He's definitely a chaotic bisexual."

    "It's whatever. I don't even care." I scoffed, having tuned out of my friends' conversation minutes ago. I took a long swig from the beer bottle I was holding before declaring, rather loudly, "He can go and kiss her and tell her how amazing she is and how perfect her hair looks all he wants! Or someone else! Whoever! As long as it's not me. That's how much I don't care. Spoiler alert. I lied. I do care. Do I look like I care?"

    Keegan and Quinton both stared back at me with blank looks.

    "Uhh," Keegan said slowly. "Don't you think it's time to cut him off?"

    "I tried that already." Quinton replied. "He's got a backup flask and I am not reaching into the area he's stashed that in."

    "You know what," I placed a hand against each of their chests and moved my friends aside. "I think we need to do something to liven this party up. Excuse me."

    Half the soccer team was lining up shots on the counter as I passed the kitchen. "Dakota!" they called. "We've got fireball shots! Come join!"

    Turning the music down, I found what I was looking for laying atop the stereo speaker and headed for the centre of the room.

    "Oh, God. He's got a microphone." I heard Keegan say somewhere to my left but I tuned it out in favour of taking to the stage. And by stage, I mean the coffee table my mum spent seven-thousand dollars on that had now been converted into a dais for me to confess my sinful thoughts about where I wanted to put my mouth on Connor Taylor's body. Or something like that.

    The microphone was only as good as a cheap karaoke design so it didn't exactly have the full range of a sound system. Nevertheless, I persisted.

    "Friends!" I yelled. "Acquaintances! Esteemed team members! Kid with the weird eyebrows – yes I'm looking at you, Todd - thank you for choosing to spend your Friday night here at my humble abode."

    "Oh my God." Quinton muttered as the rest of the crowd cheered. "Nothing is humble about a mansion. He's completely gone."

    "For anyone who doesn't know," I started, "I, Dakota Anderson, am bisexual!"

    Another chorus of cheers. Blinking red lights began to fill the room. People were recording this. Good. I'd give them a show.

    "So, there's this guy, okay?" I thrust a hand out, wobbling a little on my perch. "And he's like, really hot, and there's this thing he can do with his tongue that makes me-" I broke off with a laugh, "-oh my God, I don't even know. But he's so. Damn. Annoying. Anyone else ever feel like that?"