tw: mention of systemic racial profiling, the scene is not violent or graphic.
THE WIND WAS cool on my legs, yet the abundant liquor sloshing in my veins kept the rest of me warm. Rocking on my heels, I watched people filter in and out of the bar. The music beckoned me to come back inside because my conscience knew whatever I was about to do was a bad idea.
I should not have asked Elijah to come and get me.
Though I could ask him to take me to my apartment. Otherwise, I don't know where we would go.
A black car I'd come to recognize pulled up beside me and put their four-way-flashers on. My feet froze when the driver rolled down the window and I saw Elijah smiling. "Need a ride?"
I grew still as he got out of his car and walked toward me. My eyes raked over his tight black curls to his grey long-sleeved shirt and jeans, landing square on his face. He stopped a couple of feet away as people ambled between us. Sweet Lord, what am I doing?
"Thanks for coming to get me."
His eyes didn't leave mine. "Anytime."
I looked around me, clutching my pocketbook. I was drunk. Extremely drunk, and the only thing keeping me sane was my nerves.
"You good?"
"Oh, yeah. I'm great," I chuckled. I was, in fact, not great.
"Ready to go then?"
I wobbled when I stepped forward and Elijah's reached out to steady me. "Woah, do you need my help or can you walk?"
I stood straight, putting my hands out. "I can walk."
"Mhm, okay," he said cheekily. "Tell me if you need my help."
He followed close behind to the passenger side and reached for the handle before I had the chance to. Our eyes locked, and it looked as though he was going to say something, but he clamped his mouth shut.
Okay, then.
I slid into the warm car. His scent encompassed me—sweet and clean—and Frank played. I smiled.
"Where am I taking you?" he asked, running his hands down his thighs.
Home.
"It doesn't matter."
He tilted his head. "That's not an answer. Your place or my place?"
I hesitated. "Your place is fine. I don't want to go home yet."
"Okay," was all he said. He put the car in drive and we left town.
We drove past campus, past my apartment complex, and into the familiar neighborhood where the white paneled house sat at the end of the cul-de-sac. I didn't know what Elijah and I were going to do here. This was the first time we've been together outside of the studio by choice.
He put the car in park. "There is a party inside right now."
My face faltered, and every neuron in my body lit up like lightning. Oh, no, no, no. How did I forget they throw parties after their games? The entire team and their groupies are going to think I'm nuts walking into a party wearing this.
"I can't." I glanced at my black dress, feeling incredibly insecure. "I'm practically dressed for homecoming and you look like..." I waved my hands at him. "Like that!"
He cackled. "I think you look great."
"Stop being nice to me. I can't go in there, Elijah."
"How about I sneak you to my bedroom and give you a change of clothes?"
I blinked. Sneak me up to his bedroom? Wear his clothes?
"Or," he continued. "I can bring you clothes and you can change in the car."
Rubbing my forehead, I stared at my reflection in the window. My boobs had fallen out of place, the alcohol had made me bloat, and I had to pee. It would be too awkward to ask Elijah to take me home now, so I sighed. I was going to need another drink.
"What do you say?"
"Okay, fine. I'll change in your room, though."
He cracked a smile and hopped out of the car. We walked to the front door and I prayed everyone was in the backyard or basement. To my luck, nobody was inside, but I could feel the vibration of music emanating from somewhere in the house.
Elijah stayed a step ahead, guiding me to the same staircase he and Jayce argued on.
When we reached the second floor, my heart thumped wildly in my chest. It's not like we were going into his room to make out, but seeing the space where he slept felt intimate enough. I didn't think I'd be back here so soon, let alone at all.
I followed him to the end of the hall. "This is my room," he said, digging a key out of his pocket. The neighboring door creaked open, and I stepped behind Elijah, swaying.
Brant waltzed out, fixing his shirt. He looked our way, surprised to see us as a girl scurried out of the room. She winked at Brant and smoothed out her I-was-railed hair before heading downstairs. Elijah and I glanced at one another knowingly.
"Oh, hey, Sadie!" Brant beamed. "You look very nice."
I stared at the dress I forgot I was wearing. "Thank you, Brant. So do you."
He pretended to be overjoyed by my compliment. "I wasn't expecting to see you tonight. Elijah said you—"
"Plans changed," Elijah interrupted, turning his doorknob. "We'll see you downstairs, Brant."
Elijah grabbed my hand, pulled me into his bedroom, and closed the door behind us. I didn't have time to think about how his hand felt in mine because he let go the second we were inside and went straight to his closet.
His room was unapologetically himself.
The walls were forest green, his comforter grey and neatly made. A mixture of music and sports posters decorated the walls and on his desk was a sketchbook and a cup of pencils. If I thought his scent was strong in the car, it was one-hundred times stronger in here.
And to top it all off, the string of LED lights lined the perimeter of the ceiling.
"I can give you a sweatshirt. Do you want sweatpants or shorts? It's kind of cold for shorts, but if we stayed inside, you could wear shorts. It's up to you." His words were muffled by his head being in his closet. "Or a tee-shirt?"
My cheeks hurt from how hard I was smiling. I didn't care what he gave me, so I said, "Surprise me."
He turned around with clothes in his hands. "Are you sure you wanna change? You look great in that dress. You'd give all the other girls a run for their money outside."
"I'm sure the other girls look great too."
He leaned against his dresser. His eyes started at my feet and moved their way up my bare legs, to my torso, cleavage, and then settled on my face, making it clear he was gawking. My skin grew hot even though I was barely clothed.
"Agree to disagree."
I walked toward him, taking the clothes. "Do you have a bathroom?"
"Yep, right there." He pointed to the door beside the closet and I hurried in. The moment the door closed behind me, my entire body relaxed, including my stomach, which I was sucking in. I pulled my earrings out, wiped my lipstick off, and pulled my hair into a ponytail.
I stripped down into my underwear and froze, realizing I didn't have a bra on. Well, this was interesting, I thought, staring at his sweatshirt and then my bare chest.
I changed into his clothes and looked at myself in the mirror. Trembullen Lions were plastered across my front and I turned around to see "Preston 21" on my back. I closed my eyes and blew out a steady breath.
You're just borrowing his clothes.
Pull yourself together.
I entered the bedroom. Elijah sat on his bed, his head darted and his stoic expression turned cheerful. "Look at that," he said, "I stand corrected, you look just as good now as you did in that dress."
I tossed the dress at his face, hoping it would distract him from my beet-red cheeks.
I hadn't worn another guy's sweatshirt since Ben. But that sweatshirt is long gone because I burned it in a bonfire. What was I supposed to do when he didn't text me back?
"So what now?" I asked.
He leaned on his elbow. "We can join everyone outside or we can stay up here if you're more comfortable."
"I don't want to keep you cooped in here at your own party."
"I don't mind."
I peered out of his bedroom window which had a perfect view of the backyard. People sat around the blazing bonfire: Jayce, Aiden, Brant, and the girl whom I'd seen scurry from his bedroom. I also noticed Rocco—another member of their team I met at the first baseball party—and his girlfriend Tasha. It didn't seem like a bad crowd to hang out with.
"We can go sit at the bonfire, but I am not dancing with you in the basement wearing this." I motioned to the sweats I was swimming in.
"So you're saying if you weren't wearing sweats, you'd dance with me?" He grinned.
"You're putting words in my mouth now, Preston."
He hopped off his bed, and I followed him to the backyard.
The last time I sat by this bonfire, I watched Elijah emerge from the house with another girl. Yet this time, I was that girl. What would people think? Did I look like another score in his book? Would the guys cheer him on because I was in Elijah's bedroom alone? I was wearing his clothes after all...
My question was answered when everyone looked our way and Jayce jumped to his feet. "Sadie! Our favorite art student!" he shouted, followed by Brant and Aiden saying hello. That went much differently from the last girl.
"Hey, guys." I sat beside Tasha, saying hi to her and Rocco. She squeezed my shoulders, giving me a warm welcome back. It was nice to see a familiar face.
Elijah sat across from me, so we had a perfect view of each other over the bonfire.
"No warm welcome for me?" Elijah teased.
"Heck, no." Jayce gulped down his beer. "I'm surprised to see you here, Sadie."
"Yeah, it's taken how many attempts to get you to come," Aiden said.
"I've been very busy." That's a slight lie.
"At date parties?" Brant narrowed his eyes, and I made the same face at Elijah. He gritted his teeth and mouthed sorry he'd told them. I guess he'd have to let them know where he was driving too earlier.
"I was with my friends, having a great time, might I add." Aside from Dustin. "But thanks for inviting me tonight."
We talked about my art before I turned the conversation on them and ask about baseball. Tasha and I teased the guys because they were easy to mess with. In my entire college career, I never expected a baseball party to be this laid back. I was sure they had their wild nights, but this was refreshing.
"It's game time," Jayce smirked. "Two truths and a lie."
"We already know everything about you, Jayce," Elijah groaned.
"That's what you think. I'll start. I've been to Germany, I sleep with a sock monkey, and I've read The Great Gatsby every Christmas since the ninth grade." Jayce said, then chugged the rest of his beer and tossed it into the fire.
We all stared. The sound of the crackling wood filled the silence. Everyone—including myself—was too stunned to laugh. His roommates looked as though they were staring at a complete stranger.
"Dude, come on." Brant looked in pain and Elijah was barely holding himself together.
"You sleep with a sock monkey?" Aiden cried out.
"I don't know, you tell me. Which is the lie?"
"Germany," I blurted as a joke, but Jayce touched his finger to his nose as if we were playing charades. Mixtures of groaning and laughter echoed into the backyard and I clapped, unable to hold in my laughter.
"You've read the Great Gatsby that many times?"
"Who even are you?"
"Everyone shut up! It's Sadie's turn now." Jayce relaxed on the bench. Everyone faced me.
I swallowed, even though my mouth was dry. "Uh, I broke my arm in the fourth grade because my sister pushed me off our trampoline, I can play the ukelele, and I can sing."
Rocco screamed the trampoline was a lie, but Elijah grinned and said, "You can't sing."
I put my finger to my nose.
"I've heard you singing one too many times in the art studio."
"I'll just never sing again. How about that?" I teased, reaching for Elijah's solo cup. I brought it to my lips, only to realize he filled it with water. Though I was surprised, I was also relieved and nursed it down like a newborn.
"My turn. I like drawing, I've never learned to ride a bike, and I volunteered to fix the art room." Elijah's brown eyes bored into mine as he listed his two truths and lie. My heart swelled. He volunteered to fix the art room?
"We went on a biking trip last summer. That was easy," Aiden protested. Little did he know that lie wasn't for him, it was for me.
The hazy orange and yellow highlighted Elijah's face, which still stared at mine. Everyone's voices were drowned out by my raging thoughts. This was bad. If this was any other guy, I would've tapped out by now. But here I was, wearing his sweatshirt without a bra, for Pete's sake.
I'd dug myself a grave and was burying myself headfirst.
"I'm going to get a drink." I stood, handing Elijah's cup back.
Nobody seemed to notice my departure. They continued the game while my feet carried me to the kitchen where I'd hidden before. However, the lone pair of echoing feet told me one person had followed.
"Sadie, wait up."
You had gotten yourself into such a mess.
"Did I say something?" Elijah prodded.
The handful of people in the kitchen scurried away the moment we'd entered. I stood at the end of the island, opposite him. I had gotten us into this situation by saying yes to hanging out, and I had to get us out.
But I liked Elijah. I did.
And he volunteered.
Those were the problems.
I needed to be honest with him, but that meant being be honest with myself. We'd spent time together, and every time my heart grew fonder, which was the last thing I wanted because, in the end, I didn't want a relationship.
Now here I was, single, and going to end up with a broken heart, anyway.
"You volunteered?"
His mouth opened, then closed. "Yes."
"Why?"
"Do I need to explain why?"
"Did you hit the ball into the window on purpose?"
He let out a hearty laugh. "No, that was a lucky accident."
Tears pricked my eyes. I wasn't sure where they'd come from, but I forced them down. I would not cry in front of Elijah Preston.
"You volunteered."
"I volunteered," he repeated.
His coach didn't force him to repaint the art room walls. His teammates were never supposed to help either. He volunteered.
"Oh, God." I leaned against the counter, covering my face. The floor was wobbling under my feet.
Calloused hands pried my fingers away, clearing my line of sight to Elijah. His touch made me feel even worse as I fought an internal war of trying to keep my emotions at bay.
"I love how surprised you are," his smile was soft, sort of amused.
"Elijah," I began, but my body froze when red and blue lights gleamed through the window. What the? The emotion shifted in the room and he let go of me, annoyance and worry covering his face.
"Are those the cops?"
"Stay in here," he demanded, storming to the backyard.
My heart rate skyrocketed and everyone outside rushed in to hide.
I peeked out of the kitchen window and watched the four roommates approach the police cars. The two officers advanced toward Elijah first, and my stomach dropped. Jayce, Aiden, and Brant hastened their pace, taking their place beside Elijah. The cop reached out to shake Jayce's hand.
My forehead burned as I kept a close eye on the officer's demeanor. I couldn't shake my anxious feeling knowing the outcome between police and Black people didn't always go over too well, even if he had all of his roommates by his side.
I had been to one-too-many busted parties, and those were out of hand: colleges students swarming the front yard, bass so loud you couldn't hear the person standing next to you, minors with cups of jungle juice...
This was not that type of party. Most—if not everyone—were twenty-one here, and the house looked desolate from the front yard.
Something was off.
"Who snitched?" Tasha's voice startled me.
"I have no idea," I said. The four guys materialized their IDs from their pockets. The officers studied them and a moment later shook their hands. My brows furrowed.
The cops retreated to their car, turned off their lights, and disappeared down the street.
"We're good," Brant announced as they entered the house. "But we're going to have everyone leave. Sorry, the party is over."
Elijah held a single finger up, wordlessly telling me to wait as they rounded up everyone from the basement and living room. I did not expect my night to end with a busted party and unfinished business with Elijah.
People marched out in herds until there were only a couple of us left.
When Elijah was done being a responsible house owner, he motioned from across the kitchen for me to join him. Shit, he didn't magically forget our conversation.
"Are you good?" I asked.
"I'm fine. They said we had a noise complaint but didn't say if it was from a neighbor."
"That's strange. Will your coach be mad?"
He shrugged. "He can't be mad if he doesn't know what happened."
I laughed. "Fair enough."
Silence hung steadily between us. I noticed my drunkenness had faded into a slight buzz.
"I can drive you home if you want, I didn't drink," he reassured. "But you're more than welcome to stay."
"I should probably get back," I said without thinking twice. If I hadn't, my heart would've won in the situation and said stay.
"Okay, I can drive you back." His smile didn't reach his eyes and my chest splintered.
"Let me go change into my dress," I said.
"No, keep the clothes. They look better on you, anyway. I'll grab your dress, wait here." He winked and jogged up the stairs. One step forward for Elijah, three steps back for me.
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QOTD: What is your hype song?
Also huge thanks to Jami, Sam, Sarah, Hazel, Prash, April, and Vanessa for helping me with this chapter. I appreciate you guys!
PSA: this is a slow burn if you haven't noticed :) so their romance will be slow hehe
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Thanks for reading ♡
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