one year ago -
senior year, high school
Mallory
"He can't take his eyes off you." Cleo shouted in my ear. I could barely hear her in the cacophony of dancing, music and laughter. Cleo, Kennedy and I were at a senior house party, with the general aim of letting off steam after a gruelling week of midterms.
My intentions were more specific. My relationship with Brent was on the verge of collapse. Over the past few weeks, my boyfriend became unbearable. If he didn't know where I was every hour, then Brent would call my friends to ask where I was. It got to the point where Cleo blocked his number from her phone.
Kennedy wandered over from the bar, balancing a couple of Palm Bays in her hands. Her purple sequin romper shimmered under the lights. She lined them up neatly at our table, passing them around. "Who are we talking about?" she asked us, peering around Cleo's back as she sat down.
Cleo frowned, folding her arms. Her dress was explosively pretty, with its neon-lime color and short cut. "There's a guy looking at Mallory, and I'm pretty sure he's interested in her."
"Where is he?" I asked curiously.
Cleo lowered her voice. "He's behind me, but don't be conspicuous for now."
"Conspicuous." Kennedy muttered, rolling her eyes. Cleo gave her the middle finger, but they laughed together after. Kennedy looked away, searching for the boy Cleo was talking about. Her eyes widened. "Damn, he's fine."
"Isn't it weird, though, him staring at me?" I asked doubtfully, opening my can. "If he wants to talk, he can come over. I don't bite."
Cleo chuckled. "He isn't staring, per se. He just looks over every once in a while. Look at him and tell us what you think?" she asked, her bright eyes studying me.
I looked around the massive living room again, shocked that the owners could afford such a huge space. There was a whole open bar and dance floor, complete with tables on the outskirts of the room. They were clearly rich.
I found the table Cleo indicated. True to her word, there were six boys sitting together. As I looked them over, I noticed one of them looking in our direction. He was attractive, there was no point in denying it. He had pretty eyes; dark brown, but sharp with intelligence. They drew in at the outer corners when he smiled. His hair was messy, a little darker than those brown eyes, and his shirt was nice.
I wondered if he was looking at Cleo. Cleo was gorgeous, and she knew how to make herself look good. People tended to have crushes on her, because of her beautifully low voice and sultry eyes. But Kennedy had the beautiful sort of energy that people looked for, being sassy and always dressed to the nines. She was an equally plausible choice.
After I nearly caught his eye, I realised the object of his attention was me. Knowing that a good-looking boy was curious about me boosted my confidence, but his attention was limited to glances at me. Which only happened when his friends were too busy laughing to notice. Cleo was exaggerating this boy's interest.
I looked at my wine-red dress, making sure it looked seamlessly perfect. My lipstick was siren red to match. If this boy didn't think I was worth approaching, I'd show that I was worth more than his perfunctory glances.
"Do you guys want to dance?" I innocently asked Cleo and Kennedy, tilting my head at the crowded floor.
"Do I?" Kennedy squealed, grabbing Cleo's hand. Cleo protested as Kennedy dragged her over, and I followed my two best friends. I walked past the crowd of bodies, drunk off my own confidence. I closed my eyes, feeling the slow beat of the music wash over me. Before I registered it, my hips were swaying and I lifted my hair in my hands. Kennedy and Cleo were playfully competing to see who could dip the other girl in the sexiest way.
I looked over at brown-eyed boy's table. His friends were there, but he was gone. Then I felt stupid for looking, because I came here to have fun with my friends. Chasing after a boy was never on my list of action. In a last ditch attempt at preserving my dignity, I told Cleo and Kennedy that I wanted to get some shots.
I went over to the bar, resisting the urge to hold my face in my hands. My makeup was too good to ruin. I ordered the drinks, and waited on the barstool. In my periphery, I saw someone sit next to me.
"Hey." a low voice greeted. I turned and my eyes widened. It was him, and he was giving me the most charming grin. I covered my shock with a smile, steeling myself. He just approached me, and I needed to follow through without screwing up.
"Hi." I replied, my brain evaporating on the spot. My mind was scrambling for a witty comment or remark, but this boy left me speechless. He was leaning towards me slightly, propping his elbow on the bar table. And his smile was enough to render me completely incoherent.
"So what's your drink of choice?" he asked, studying me curiously. I resisted the urge to smile, noting that he had zero filter.
"Tequila shots tonight, apparently." I replied, indicating the shots in front of me, complete with lime wedges and salt.
"You know what they say about girls who like tequila?" I shook my head, bemused. He smiled; his positivity was contagious. "Nothing's said, but apparently you are what you drink. Tequila lovers are confident, according to this slip in my jacket."
He showed me a blank scrap of paper and his terrible compliment actually made me laugh; which was the most fatal mistake. I covered my mouth, horrified by the ugly sound that came out of my mouth. We only just started talking, and I already embarrassed myself. If he wasn't already running for the hills, then here was his chance.
But he didn't. This boy threw back his head and laughed so loudly that the bartender jumped, looking at us with an annoyed expression. His laughter fading, my partner in crime shook his head at me, newfound amusement gleaming in his eyes. "Your laugh is adorable." he said, smiling broadly at me.
"I call it my ugly snort," I confessed, cupping my chin in my hand with my elbow braced on the bar table. I had no control over my words when I was drunk, but my mouth was a runaway steamroller now. "It always comes out at the worst time."
"Like when?" he asked curiously, leaning into me.
I winced. "My grandmother's funeral. My aunt made a joke during her speech, and it burst out of me. It was so hard to deal with the awkward silence afterwards."
He grinned, leaning into me, that I could see every speck of gold in his eyes. "If I was there, I would have laughed with you. Awkward situations aren't bad if you make them into a team effort."
I smiled, my eyes running over his face as I spoke. "That's one way of putting it. Do you have any embarrassing habits? So I can lick my wounds without much agony." A grin broadened his mouth. I kept on glancing at it, because his lips were distractingly full.
"I'm developing a habit of talking to interesting girls I meet at clubs. Only started today, in fact. But it's not embarrassing at all." he said with a sly smile.
I could feel myself blushing. How did this boy manage to flirt like that when I could barely string two sentences together? "That might get you in trouble someday." I commented, trying to sound calm and unbothered.
"Maybe it would. I'm willing to take a chance tonight, though." he said, taking a swig of his drink. His eyes were light. The sparks in them drew me in, because I knew that he was daring me to walk on the fire with him.
I bet he propositioned girls all the time. He was so calm, whereas everything inside my body felt like it was jumbled into a euphoric mess. Butterflies in my stomach? More like a tornado.
I smiled at him. Maybe it really was the alcohol, but I felt like being reckless tonight. I ignored the fact that Brent was waiting for me to text him. "I'm thinking about taking a chance right now."
He mimed his thoughts transferring from his brain to mine, grinning. "I was thinking the exact same thing."
"Then do you know what I'm thinking right now?" I said, my heart hammering in my chest as I took the plunge. I took his hand in mine and stood, smiling down at him. "How about a dance?"
"Only if I lead." he said, starting to walk ahead with my hand firmly grasped in his. Getting through the crowd of sweaty people was tricky, but the mystery stranger was by my side all the time. He constantly looked back to ensure he didn't lose me.
I turned so that my back was just touching his chest, moving closer to him. I felt his hands lightly ghost my hips. I closed my eyes, moving my body to the music as I felt him mirror my movements. I barely noticed the crowds of people around us; all I could feel and see was him. Everything slowed; I only wanted this moment to last for as long as I could make it.
He leaned in, his mouth brushing my ear. "I saw you on the floor earlier. You're a great dancer."
Butterflies erupted in my stomach. I smiled at him, flattered but understanding. "You're being kind. I'm average, and I know it."
"You're much more than average." he replied softly. I raised my eyebrows at him, though he couldn't see my face properly in the dim light.
"I know." I leaned closer to him, trying to ignore my heart hammering in my chest.
He smiled, leaning into me, but then his eyes cast upwards to the back of the room. He cleared his throat, moving away. "I'll see you soon, but I have to go now. My friends are calling me over." he said with a parting smile.
"Wait a second," I protested, but he was already lost in the crowd. I looked around desperately, but it was useless. There were too many people, too many bodies for me to have a hope of catching him. I didn't know his name, or his number, but he still managed to make my heart skip a beat.
I wandered back to Cleo for consolation. She was eagerly downing shots as I sat on the barstool next to her. CLeo smiled, pushing a glass in my direction, but her happy smile became concerned. "What happened? I saw you dancing with that fitty. He's your type on paper."
I groaned, and my head flopped against the table. I heard Kennedy and Cleo exclaim as they asked me what happened. I sat up, fixing my hair as I vented my frustrations. "He just left me there, like nothing was happening between us. Or maybe I'm delusional, and nothing really happened in the first place. But who does that?"
"That was shitty of him." Cleo said supportively. "But it's nothing a few shots can't fix."
I sighed, flopping onto my chair. I didn't care that my expensive dress was crumpling, because my night wasn't going the way I planned. I wanted to be reckless for once, now that my relationship with Brent was collapsing. "Thank goodness for shots."
"But what about Brent?" Kennedy asked, looking concerned. "I know whatever just happened wasn't serious, but I thought you guys were getting better."
"We are." I lied. "Everything's fine. We've been on a break for the past week, anyway."
"He doesn't seem to know that." Cleo said pointedly.
I covered my face with my hands, sighing. "I'm a mess, guys. I barely know what's happening in my own relationship anymore."
"Mallory." Kennedy said cautiously. "You don't seem happy with Brent. Is it time to cut him off?"
"Not yet." I protested. "Brent was sweet to me, before the pressure of high school got to him. He's just stressed.
That ended our conversation about Brent. For the next few hours, I drank, laughed and danced like I'd been doing for the past week. But my thoughts kept on returning to my mystery boy with the smiling eyes. I really wanted to know him.
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