Bad Taste (Part I) // Colby Brock

8 - Rebecca

          As soon as I got close enough, I caught the guy looking at me. But I didn't have time to react otherwise I would back down. At this point, that'd be embarrassing, so I carried out my plan, stealing the glass of hard liquor of some kind from his hand, downing it with my hand on his arm — I realised it was whiskey — flipping the glass and putting it on the table, and then latching my hand to the back of his head. I didn't give him a choice in the matter, dragging his head down. And I did it, I kissed him. I'd never felt anything more powerful in my entire life.

It felt like the entire world suddenly shut around me as his lips melded to mine. I didn't want to stop or move away or blush or do anything I might have usually done in this situation. I just wanted more. My hand still tentatively on his arm, I couldn't help but move it up his shoulder and onto his neck, almost meeting my other hand. I tugged him a little closer just as one of his hands slid onto my lower back from my waist. My body was pulled into his, creating a connection I could have only dreamt of when Tara pointed him out. I didn't know how the girls were reacting now, as the kiss was quite clearly full of more than just drunken party lust. Or at least, it felt that way. It wasn't sloppy or amateur; we both had experience, I could feel it. We both knew what to do with our lips and hands, and it was fascinating to me that so many of my thoughts were revolving around him.

This is the guy, I decided when I barely pulled back. This is the guy I'm releasing everything out on tonight.

Pulling back didn't help. He turned us around and I felt the wall at my back. He was so close that his hips were pushing against mine as he stared down at me, lips still parted. I was sure I looked exactly the same, if not even more entranced. His eyes were different now; the blue looked more purple, the silver taking over for the whites of his eyes. It was mesmerising, but a weird trick. I was trying to decipher if I was in real life when Sam placed his hand on the guy's shoulder and gently pulled him back, just a bit. He said something and the guy looked at him, but I couldn't look away. I wished I were alone, so I could show how he made me feel.

Then he and the guy walked away, just like that. And I knew I had to act just as casual, but return to the prowlers instead. And boy, were they interested in me when I got back. Katrina's jaw hadn't picked up yet, Devyn was stunned into total stillness, and Tara was over the moon. I couldn't bring myself to meet any of their eyes.

"Ho-ly. Shit. Wow!" Tara exclaimed.

Katrina's jaw slowly lifted. "I've never seen Colby kiss like that," she murmured.

As the music was between songs, I heard it clearly, and I frowned.

"Without tongue. He always goes straight in..."

So Colby was his name. There was no way anyone else in the house could possibly make me feel like he had; I needed that, to release the anger in me. But I knew it probably wouldn't happen, which made my condition worse.

"Yeah, well, that's not fucking happening again," I snapped at Tara. "Don't even think about it. And I'm not playing anymore. I'm done with this shit game." My buzz wasn't strong enough. "I'm getting a drink."

The kitchen was busier than it had been when 'Uncle Elton' was pouring the cups. I eyed them suspiciously now, knowing that too much time had passed since they'd been poured. One of them was bound to have something in it, and I didn't feel like getting drugged tonight. I glanced towards the living room, where the girls were distracted, chatting with one another. Or maybe daring each other. Either way, I didn't exactly feel like running over and being a part of their conversation, nor did I feel like standing here in the kitchen alone. I wanted to go home. Badly.

It was a sudden burning desire that ripped through my whole body. My eyes scanned around for one last time, and I spotted a familiar muscular black man staring at me intensely, standing a few feet away from the guy I'd kissed, who was also looking at me. My heart jumped in my chest for just a moment and the need to go home disappeared as if it was never there. I was questioning my sanity in this house. I couldn't stay here any longer unless I wanted to get myself in trouble. So I cast one last glance at Tara in the living room and slid through all the people to the front door. The bouncer glanced at me as I walked passed, but he didn't say anything. I jogged down the front steps, my mind on my car.

The further from the house I got, the bigger the hole in my chest got. I didn't feel it until I was halfway down the street, travelling fast enough that I could get away but slow enough for my reactions to still be okay. I had had some drinks after all, and I wasn't sure if I was over the limit. But as the distance grew larger, so did the feeling of despair and the need to let out all of my frustrations on something. What could I possibly use? What could get this feeling out of my chest? Make me feel normal again and stop this ridiculous wanting and need? Now I was angry at myself.

It wasn't too late when I got home, but late enough that I was ready to just burst into tears and fall asleep as they rolled down my cheeks. However long I laid on my bed wearing only a large t-shirt, I wasn't sure. The tears never came, which was incredibly annoying. The whole time, there was just a tingling behind my eyes, a sting I couldn't rid of. And the worst part, when I closed my stinging eyes, all I could see were his.