I'm at a house party, and God knows why Nic dragged me here.
"You're my wingman, dude. The girls from your graduating class are way cuter than mine."
I snort at that, letting my head bounce back against the wall — wild, loose curls and a thin frame, an affinity for losing my train of thought and a tendency to stutter. Wow, quite a wingman catch. I let my gaze roam across the melding pot of squished together bodies and sexual frustration.
I can't say it's how I want to spend my Friday night.
"They are not cuter. They just don't have the honor of knowing the horror that is Nic Abernathy and his fruit flavored condoms."
Nic levels me with a glare, turning his torso towards me as he gulps down a half-glass of whiskey. I'm almost impressed at his ability to not cringe at the aftertaste — then deduce that that isn't something to be enamored with at all.
"Fine, I'm not looking for commitment, and they're flighty before college. Anyway, you're a shit wingman." He deadpans, and I nod in wholehearted agreement. "Should have brought Toby."
I think to tell him that I'm positive I'd seen Tobias by the fridge on the way in, but decide not to — in a well-deserved response to the insult. A few moments pass, and I keep finding myself more interested in the muted Law and Ordnance episode that's playing at the back end of the party than any of the people here.
"At least tell me who's into casual flings." My brother cuts in with a mournful sigh, taking in the sight of the surrounding women with a puppy-eyed adoration. "Since I'm hunk-free tonight, I might make it somewhere."
He has a point, seeing as how Toby is quite the catch and ridiculously handsome. Nic's reputation has gotten out a bit around town, and gossip has led to him being a less than favorable choice amongst girls and their parents.
"All my time studying quantum psychics and orbital patterns didn't give me any insight on your next sexual endeavor," I grumble, irritated with how poorly he went about treating his love life. "... And don't sleep with girls who have been drinking."
"Oh my God, I know that. That's gross. You're such a buzz-kill, Oli," he's rubbing my head affectionately with his knuckle, arm slung around my shoulders, "not to mention a huge nerd, have I ever told you that?"
"Nope, I'm completely surprised," I mumble listlessly, pulling my phone from my back pocket, "pushed me right out of the nerd-closet."
He rolls his eyes, and mid-roll seems to catch sight of someone he knows. "Hey, Joseph's here. I'll catch up with you later. You still my DD?" I nod in an affirmative, not willing to strain my voice over the blaring stereo.
The smaller side of me wants to reach forward and grab onto his shirt-tails, utterly terrified at the thought of being alone in a large house party completely sober. I gather myself and pretend to busy texting, so I don't look so awkward.
A tiny part of me hopes that Toby doesn't happen to see me, looking as lame as I am in my ratty t-shirt- loitering out against the staccato like a piece of bad wallpaper. He hasn't yet, but someone does.
"Hey."
The voice that approaches is feminine and catches me off guard. It's not the first time. House parties seem to bring about the unwanted reward of female to male mingling.
I snap my head up from my game of Tetris regardless, hiding the phone screen against my chest as I blink. The girl in front of me has a flush that has crawled up her face and stands like she's uncomfortable with how loud the surrounding party is. She drapes her hands over her arms cautiously as she stares forward at me, our heights similar.
VOUS LISEZ
BLACK VELVET & BINARY STARS (preview)
Roman d'amour(MAN/MAN)/(PREVIEW ONLY) His friends call him Toby. He's grown taller, firm, as handsome as everyone had expected. The man's dark eyes are open and honest when he speaks to the elders at church but wicked when night falls and he stumbles into his...
