A lot of cocktails later, I find CeCe dancing on the top of the table with some other girls while a group of guys is cheering her on, urging her to take off her top and congratulating her on her “mad moves”. CeCe’s ignoring them for the most part, all the while looking like she’s having a good time. She occasionally giggles at the boys’ leering stares and their hooting and whistling, but she doesn’t look like she’s about to go topless just yet. Topless or not, I don’t even want to dwell on what her parents are going to think if they see her up there, especially since she’s supposed to be having a “study session” tonight and instead she’s partying it up like there’s no tomorrow.
Lola and I stand on the sidelines, deliberating when to step in, but we have yet to figure out what we consider to be “crossing the line of appropriate party behavior”.
“Do you think we should go in?” I ask with my arms crossed across my chest as I nod my head towards CeCe’s direction. I’d hate to ruin her fun, but as her best friend, I have some duties to fulfill.
“Nah, not yet. I think we’re still good.” She eventually evaluates the situation, but a second later, CeCe’s pulling her shirt up and the moment we see a bit of skin showing, Lola and I are both on the move.
“Okay, I take it back. We’re going in,” Lola quickly says, not wasting time and off we go, trying to save CeCe from herself once again. And here I thought I’d be the one getting drunk out of my mind.
CeCe gets a manic case of the giggles when she spots us in the crowd and her unfocused gaze lights up as she recognizes us. As we make our way towards her, she’s giggling like she just saw Santa and can’t get the image of his funny-looking beard out of her head. I almost trip over my heel-clad feet and fall flat on my face, trying to dodge a guy who’s a millisecond away from hitting me in the nose with his elbow.
I don’t almost hit the floor like a heap of rocks because I’m wasted; it’s because someone has spilled his drink over the floor and it’s wet and slippery whereas I’m not known for my balance. Lola, however, having missed the memo, gives me the kind of look that says something between the lines of ‘oh, babe, not you, too. One drunk at a time, please.’
I’m the first one to get to CeCe and before I know it, she’s gotten off the table and is hugging me with all her might, nearly choking me with her love.
She smells of beer and stale cigarette smoke as I bury my nose into her hair and I grimace at the smell, but don’t comment on it.
“This party is insane,” she yells into my ear, making me wince at the volume of her voice and I pull back to keep her at arm’s length.
“I can see you’re enjoying yourself,” Lola observes, carefully taking the red plastic cup CeCe’s holding from her shaking hands before she sloshes it all over my silver body-fitting dress, which I actually borrowed from Lola.
“Yes, I am!” CeCe shouts excitedly and she looks just so happy to see us that she tries to get me to climb on the top of the table, but Lola stops her as she grabs her wrists and holds her gaze.
“Okay,” she sighs heavily, closing her eyes for a moment to mentally prepare herself, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” she begins, already regretting the next words that are about to leave her mouth, “but I think you’ve partied enough for one night,” she concludes, nodding her head to further stress her point. “I doubt there’s one guy in this room who hasn’t gotten a glimpse of your underwear yet,” she speculates and then even pulls CeCe’s mini-skirt down a little bit. CeCe frowns at the gesture whereas I almost giggle at how motherly hen of Lola it is.
“Who cares?” she asks, not waiting for Lola to answer as she continues, “I’m having fun,” she proclaims happily before she tries to go back to dancing and getting half-naked.
“Maybe a little bit too much fun,” Lola counters, refusing to let go, even though CeCe does her best to break free.
“You two are such buzzkills,” CeCe informs us in all seriousness, but she doesn’t seem too bothered by it as both me and Lola link our arms through hers and lead her towards the kitchen.
“You’ll thank us later,” I tell her reassuringly and I have a feeling she will because a sober CeCe wouldn’t approve of drunken CeCe’s dirty dancing and whatnot.
“Sit down,” Lola orders and with a frown marring her heart-shaped face, CeCe sits down on one of the fancy bar stools in the kitchen.
“And drink this,” Lola commands next, shoving a bottle of water in CeCe’s hands.
“I don’t want to,” CeCe fires back, throwing the water bottle back at Lola.
“But you will,” Lola insists through gritted teeth, giving the bottle back to CeCe.
“No,” CeCe pouts before she slams the water bottle down on the counter, refusing to follow Lola’s orders, apparently, “you can’t make me!”
“CeCe-“
As my best friends get involved in another one of their frequent full-on screaming matches, which is almost as loud as the music blasting from the speakers, I tune them out, my mind wandering off to a certain boy, who’s supposed to be here with me right now, helping me through all of this by laughing the whole thing off, but didn’t even bother to show up.
“Sydney!”
I realize both my friends are staring at me after Lola screams out my name so loud, it almost damages my eardrums and makes me jump.
“Yes?” I ask uncertainly, not knowing what I’ve missed and not having even realized I’ve zoned out.
Lola cocks her head to one side and I fidget under her scrutiny. Not even her hair, which is such a startling red in color that it makes my eyes hurt just by looking at it, can be used as distraction.
“Okay, I’ve had it with you, too. Spill the beans,” Lola demands, snapping her fingers right in my face, “what’s up with you? You’re acting real weird tonight. What has gotten into you?” she asks, wanting to know as she taps my head and I flinch back, frowning as I remember what I’ve tried for so long to push out of my mind now that she reminds me of it.
“Nothing,” I reply quickly, maybe even too quickly. I rub the back of my head only to realize it’s sticky with sweat. I grimace and scrunch up my nose as I wipe my hand on my dress. It’s too late when it dawns on me that getting on the defensive with Lola may not be my brightest idea so far.
“Bullshit,” Lola declares immediately, not believing me for a second and giving me the courtesy to get away with it, “you’re lying.”
Head snapping back up to her face, I glare at Lola as darkly as I can, considering my vision’s a bit blurry at the edges because my mascara is irritating my eyes and making them tear up. “I’m not lying,” I insist, meeting her heated gaze head-on and not looking away.
“Oh, yeah?” Lola raises her dark eyebrows at me, clicking her tongue before she gives me this knowing look that rubs me off the wrong way, so I know I’m not going to like what she’s about to say next. “Well then, where’s Brayden?” she asks innocently, looking at me expectantly and gauging my reaction in order to catch me in the lie, like the bullshit detector she prides herself on being. I’m not supposed to get mad she’s asking me this, but against all reason, I do and I can’t stop my body from flushing in embarrassment.
Where the fuck is Brayden, indeed, that’s what everybody wants to know.
I tear my gaze away from Lola’s and refuse to look back at her as I grind my teeth together, but it only makes me angrier. It’s like whenever something is wrong with me, then it must be because of Brayden. What really gets me though is that they’d be usually right.
“Why do you think this has anything to do with him?” I ask, seeming offended by the idea. I’ve never wanted to be one of those girls that go batshit crazy, or even better – go psycho bitch when their boyfriend has done something they didn’t approve of or liked.
Lola, instead of actually answering me, gives me a deadpanned look that tells me she’s not easily fooled by my theatrics. Then she shares a look with CeCe, who even as drunk as she is, still catches her drift.
I sigh in defeat, shoulders dropping as I drop my gaze and give up the fight.
“I knew it was him,” Lola states just like I knew she would, her eyes lighting up with the realization, “what did he do? Did you two get into a fight?” she asks, widening her brown eyes at me and a small gasp escapes CeCe’s lips.
“No way,” she breathes out, lowering her voice to an almost whisper, “Brady and Sydney never, ever fight,” CeCe states, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and I resist the urge to roll my eyes because she does have a point after all.
It’s an all-known knowledge that Brady and I never fight. And maybe, just maybe that’s the whole problem here.
“He has another ‘Em-urgency’”, I drawl sneeringly, using air-quotes and rolling my eyes exaggeratedly. Either Emily has the suckiest timing or she simply knows when Brayden’s with me because she’d always find the worst time to call him, saying that she has an “emergency”. Brayden, the nice guy that he is, would leave whatever it is that he’s been occupied with to go play the knight in shining armor to his damsel in distress. I can’t even say anything about that, or complain, because they’ve been friends forever and from what Brayden’s told me, he’s the rock she falls back on when times get tough. And they get tough very, very often, judging by the frequency Brayden would blow me off to be with poor Emily, who’s going through yet another crisis that only my boyfriend can apparently solve.
Even though I try not to get jealous and trust my boyfriend to stay loyal to me, I can’t help the green monster from rearing its ugly head whenever Emily Walsh’s name is brought up because the truth’s just too much. He may be loyal to me, but his heart? Its loyalty lies elsewhere. With someone else.
“Is that all? Oh, Syd,” Lola sighs forlornly, squeezing my hand in a sign of support, “jealousy is not an attractive look for you,” she says, much to my shock.
“I’m not jealous,” I say indignantly, surprised by Lola’s words because they aren’t what I expected to hear or wanted to.
“Yes, you are,” Lola argues, “but you shouldn’t be. Emily can’t hold a candle to you, babe. Brady would never leave you for her.”
“True that,” CeCe slurs, finally getting a word in edgewise, “you’re so much hotter, Syd,” she assures me, looking me up and down and momentarily distracting me from getting my point across before they shut me down once again.
“Guys,” I begin, wanting to make it clear to them that there’s more to it than meets the eye.
“What?” Lola says exasperatedly, forgetting that she’s supposed to be mad at CeCe and getting mad at me instead. “Brady loves you.”
“I know, Lo, but-“, I try to speak, to tell her that even though I act all confident and self-assured, I know that Brayden may not know it yet, but he’s in love with Emily and simply loves me like a friend and it’s just a matter of time before the inevitable happens, but Lola won’t let me finish, like she knows that once the truth’s out of my lips, she won’t be able to lie to my face and she can’t have that. It will ruin her perfect picture image of who Brayden is.
“No buts, Syd,” she warns me, shutting me up, “trust me, this is your insecurities talking.” Then she grabs me by the shoulders and looks me dead in the eye. “I don’t know why though. Brady’s batshit crazy about you, girl. There’s nothing going on between him and Emily. You’ve got nothing to worry about and you know that. He’ll be an idiot to leave you and Brayden might be a lot of things, but an idiot he is not one of them,” Lola jokes, cracking a smile as she bumps our shoulders together and tries to lighten the mood. I attempt to return her smile too, but I’m not nearly as convincing at it as Lola is. I get the hint though; I get it, all right.
Drop it, Syd, just drop it.
Inwardly, I sigh tiredly.
On the outside, I smile.
“I know, right?” I force out a laugh and Lola readily joins in, glad to see me smiling again. “I’m just being silly,” I say, shrugging and playing it off, like it’s no biggie. I’ve tried so many times to tell everyone that Brayden’s heart belongs to someone else and not me, but I’ve simply come to the point where I realize some things you can’t tell even your best friends, especially when they won’t hear it, especially when they’re so in love with said boyfriend that they’d rather not know.
“Exactly. That’s my girl,” Lola confirms, beaming up at me, glad that we won’t have “the talk” where I’ll be told, quite repeatedly, how paranoid I’m being. Before we can say anything else, Noah materializes right by our side and throws his arm over Lola’s shoulders, making her stumble because Noah’s, by no means, a light weight to carry.
“What are you two wallflowers doing here all by yourselves?” jestingly he asks, glancing between me and Lola and as I caught a whiff of his breath and notice the rosiness of his cheeks, I’d say he’s been partying for much longer than we have.
“Wallflowers?” Lola echoes, saying wallflowers, like it’s a bad word as she pushes Noah off her and glares up at him, switching into warrior mode. “Who are you calling a wallflower, you doofus?! I just talked this one right here out of taking off her shirt, mind you,” says Lola haughtily, barely ruling her temper.
If there’s anything Lola truly despises, it’s being called something she isn’t.
Call her a dirty ho, or bitch, and she’d most likely say, ‘thank you, I’m glad you noticed’, but call her a wallflower and you’ll have World War III at your hands.
“Now that’s something I’d like to see,” Noah says flirtingly, wiggling his eyebrows at me comically. Although my initial reaction is to burst out laughing because of how ridiculous Noah looks when doing that weird eyebrow thing, I frown after a little deliberation.
“Hey, why did you immediately assume it’s me who was about to take her clothes off? It’s CeCe-“
As I point my index finger to the bar stool, which CeCe previously occupied, I suddenly realize something.
“Oh, my god, CeCe!” Lola and I cry out when we fail to pinpoint the whereabouts of our third blond musketeer.
“We lost CeCe!” Lola shouts out, slapping a hand to her forehead and making Noah laugh at her reaction. In turn, this only gets Lola more worked up.
“Don’t you think you’re being a little overdramatic?” Noah drawls lazily, giving us a deadpanned look. “CeCe’s a human being, not a helpless puppy. She’s hardly lost. I think she’ll manage to find her way around a house she’s been in million times before,” he remarks, rolling his crystalline blue eyes skywards, like he can’t believe he’s dealing with such crazies like us.
“Ouch, what was that for?” he yelps, rubbing the spot where Lola has hit him and his pout can make anyone get down on their knees to apologize to him, it doesn’t have the same effect on Lola.
“For stating the obvious, you jackass,” Lola sneers and I decide it’s about time I cut in before these two kill each other.
“So, what do we do now? Should we split and look for her or…?” I ask Lola, changing the subject and positioning my body in a way that it’s shielding Noah away from my very angered red-headed and hot-blooded best friend.
“No,” she sighs, shaking her head and running a hand through her wild red curls, “I’m going to track her down. You just make sure that this,” she says derisively, making a sweeping motion towards Noah, “stays out of my way for the rest of the night,” she orders. Then she turns on her heel and marches off in a seemingly random direction without saying another word.
Noah stares after her long after Lola has gone out of sight before he leans against the counter and turns to look at me with a big questioning mark, but also, a hint of a smile in his impossibly blue eyes.
“I think she’s the first girl that hates me for reasons other than sleeping with her and not calling her after,” Noah quips, winking at me playfully and laughing his rich belly laughter that has me instantly smiling back at him. All the while I’m thinking to myself, ‘oh, if only you knew…’
“Don’t worry your pretty little head with it,” I console him, patting his blond head affectionately, “Lola’s just going through a… phase right now,” I try to explain, selecting my words carefully. By phase, however, I mean a crush. Truth is that Lola has a gigantic and annoying crush on Noah, which will just about drive both her and me crazy. Not that she’ll ever tell me or anyone else that. God knows what will happen if Noah gets a wind of it, he’ll probably never let her live it down. Ever.
“You know,” Noah says conversationally, “sometimes she really scares me.”
I can’t help myself but laugh as I see the look on Noah’s face as he thinks of Lola and the idea that a guy, who’s way over 6 feet and is twice Lola’s size, can be scared of someone as tiny and petite as her, is nothing short of hilariously ridiculous.
“Not to worry,” I repeat myself, “Lola scares everyone,” I say, not even having to stretch the truth at all because Lola’s the kind of girl that can put the fear of god into even the most godless man on earth. She makes it look so easy, even.
“Not you though,” Noah points out and I chuckle.
“It takes practice,” I tell him, “but once you get to know the real her, you’ll realize Lola’s as harmless as a kitten,” I shrug, thinking to myself that under all the false bravado, Lola is, indeed, a big softie at heart.
“A kitten?” Noah repeats, lifting his eyebrows until they disappear behind his hairline, surprise written all over his face. “Now you’re just flat-out bullshitting me, Miller.” Noah throws his head back and laughs for a long time before he turns back to me. “Hasn’t anyone told you that lying is a very bad thing?”
Tell that to your best friend, I’m itching to say back, but I hold back just in time. This has nothing to do with our conversation. What’s more important, I don’t want to drag Noah into this.
“Fine,” I sigh, faking annoyance as I roll my eyes at him, “I might’ve stretched the truth just a little bit,” I admit reluctantly.
“Just a little?” Noah asks doubtfully, making me reconsider.
“Okay, a lot,” I correct myself, thinking that calling Lola a kitten might’ve been a bit of a stretch, indeed.
“That’s better,” Noah says, nodding his head in affirmative before he suddenly straightens up and gets this look on his face, like he just got the best idea. “Now… how about that dance you said you’d save for me?” Noah asks, extending his hand and I laugh, gladly taking it as I let him take me to the dance floor.
The music’s much louder in the living room than it is in the kitchen and it’s packed with people, making it harder to move without stepping on someone’s toes. But, as I let Noah twirl me around and show off his dance moves that have me and all the people around us cracking up, I realize that I’m actually having fun despite Brayden not being here when we’ve been both looking forward to this night because it’s the first official party since our senior year started. As I watch some leggy brunette drag Noah away, I get sad. I realize everybody’s got somebody but me because my boyfriend’s too busy catering to Emily Walsh’s every whim.
My cell vibrates, signaling that I have a new text and as I glance down at it, I realize it’s from Brady, but I don’t feel like reading it and hearing what he has to say in his defense right now.
I ball my hands into fists and decide to go to the bathroom, planning on splashing my face with cold water in hopes I’ll cool off. While I’m at it, I know very well the guy whose party I’m at and I think about raiding Rob’s cabinet too because I know his mom has more drugs than they do in the drugstores. Rob won’t mind nor will his mom notice. If only though there’s a pill for jealous girlfriends, I’d take a handful.
The line for the bathroom though goes around the corner and I see a lot of impatient faces waiting in line for their turn.
Some heavily made-up girl, leaning against the wall, spares me a look and is kind enough to inform me, “Some girl has been in there for ages.”
I nod my head in understanding before I go back to the end of the line, but as the minutes go by and we all get more impatient and agitated, I go to knock on the door, but I get no response, even though I put my ear to the door.
“Tried that,” the same girl at the front of the line tells me, “got no reply, either.”
Not in the mood to deal for some drunk girl to take her sweet ass time doing her business, I slowly turn the knob only to realize it’s actually open. As I carefully step in the bathroom, however, not knowing what to expect to find there, I actually see CeCe basically lying on the bathroom floor, legs folded underneath her.
A/N: So, first off, thanks to all of you who read/voted/reviewed the story. :) You're THE best! AND I apologize for any annoying mistakes in this chapter, I've had the strangest day ever, so I didn't even proofread it before posting since I wanted to upload it asap. Again, thank you all! Hope you enjoyed reading :)