Throughout the room all that could be heard were faint murmurs of curiosity, the low hum of music and Britta's river of swears.
Britta had collapsed onto the floor, staring up at me with watery eyes and a string of curses shooting from her lips. She was nursing her hurt nose with both hands, and her eyes were glaring daggers. One punch had done little to satisfy the rage burning inside of me though, and so I lunged at her again, fueled only by impulsivity and unadultered fury.
Just as I was about to make fist-to-face contact, I felt a pair of arms intercept as they circled around my waist, pulling me up off the ground and receiving a disgruntled cry in response. My legs kicked as all they were met with was air.
"I think this is our cue to leave," a voice murmured in my ear, laced with an inexplicable amusement.
I easily recognized the voice as Reese's, but hardly paid it any mind as I struggled tirelessly to break free from his grip. Reese held on though, and took a few steps in the opposite direction, exactly where I did not want to be.
"Let me the fuck go, Powers, I swear to fucking- ugh!" I growled, but his grip only seemed to tighten as I glared at the blonde girl with homicidal eyes.
A couple of her concerned friends were now crowded around her, making sure she was all right, but the girl hardly paid them any mind. When she brought her fingers to touch her upper lip, wide eyes registered the trickle of blood that had dipped into her cupid's bow, and I saw her flinch at my words.
Just as we were about to break through the door way, a boy I faintly recognized from school grabbed Reese's arm to stop him. "Dude, let her go, let Britta finish this."
I could feel Reese freeze around me, grip still irritatingly tight. "Hey, Warren, just let this one go."
Despite myself, I couldn't help but note that Reese's voice was uncharacteristically strained.
More importantly, it appeared erratic struggling was not going to get me anywhere, and so I'd opted for trying to pry his fingers off of me instead. While I tried to grab at his hands, I faintly processed the boy standing next to us, all tall, tan, and quintessential football player with his meaty arms and broad chest. He dwarfed even Reese as he stared down at us with thick, knitted brows.
"Reese, dude, what are you doing? Just let her go," Warren insisted, his voice low and dangerously steady.
Against my back I felt Reese inhale and a murmur of a curse in my ear, involuntarily causing me to pause. "Fuck off, Warren," he snapped, and then he was charging out the door.
As we broke through the foyer and into the nightly air, I continued to try and wiggle my way out his grasp, which was infuriatingly solid. I was beginning to feel sore with how tightly his arms were digging into me. "Powers!" I threatened, but unconsciously it came out with a much whinier edge than intended. "Let me go!"
His pace barely slowed as we continued down the long road, not another breath of human presence in sight. I could tell he was beginning to feel my weight as his breathing grew a little more ragged, and he tried to hoist me up for a better grip. It didn't matter, I was still very much ready to slip through and race back to Britta and, as Warren had so eloquently put it, finish what I'd started. I was fully accepting any and all retaliations from her part- that was half the fun.
"Just- ugh, Reese, seriously!"
"I'm not letting you go until I know that you won't go running back there," he told me, a warning edge to his voice.
I turned my head with a longing look to the large house behind us, growing smaller and smaller with ever step that Reese had took. The glow from the windows was growing faint, and with the next house far off in the distance, trees and fields falling in between, the only light we had was the wink of stars above.
I crossed my arms over my chest and took a deep breath of defeat. "All right, let me go."
Reese paused, seemingly contemplating my words before he sighed and dropped me down. I took a moment to steady myself, my sense of gravity returning a couple seconds later than expected, and then turned to look at the boy. We both paused, and I could tell he was watching me with a careful eye. Both of us met the other's stare head on.
"Fine!" I sighed, throwing my hands up air in surrender, and turned. "You win!"
As I took a few steps forward, I took a deep breath, and then quickly turned on my heel. Just as I thought I'd created the perfect ruse to make for my perfect getaway, I was met with Reese, standing there looking the pinnacle of unimpressed with crossed arms and cocked brow.
I groaned. "One time! Just one more punch in the face, and I promise, I promise I'll let it go!" I shook my index finger desperately, but Reese did not look convinced.
He shook his head. "Nope, no, no way, I don't want to go back there which you means you definitely can't go back there."
I gave him a look. "That's not... what? That's not logic. You don't have to go, I can go, and you can just not go. That's a thing that can happen, you know," I suggested, as I tried to wiggle my eyebrows in a way that I hoped would work.
It did not work. Reese merely sighed and swung the backpack that he'd been wearing around his shoulders, which I guessed he'd swiped before he'd manhandled me out the door, and fished through it to find a full bottle of vodka.
"Nope, what's going to happen is that we're going to go over into that field over there," he said, pointing the bottle towards the empty land next to us, "-and we're going to get really, really drunk. Because I need a drink after that, which means that you definitely need a drink after that."
Despite the darkness of the night, I could still see that unwavering spark in his amber eyes, and huffed. Still, I kicked the road in anger, the adrenaline only now beginning to fade from my veins. While it wasn't exactly what I wanted to do, it wasn't as terrible as most of his ideas.
"I'll drink your booze, but I want you to know that I won't be happy about it."
Reese chuckled and pushed me farther along, following close behind me, probably wary that I was still trying to make a break for it.
Which is how we ended up splayed across the grass, the two of us lying underneath the inky night sky and passing the bottle of vodka between us periodically. I could still feel the sticky residue of beer on my skin, and the faint breeze that rolled by caused my skin to prickle, but the burn of alcohol from inside was keeping me warm enough.
"I smell like beer," I complained loudly, holding the bottle close to me.
"As the person who carried you here, and who is also wet with beer, trust me, I know," he said, wiggling his fingers for the bottle to be passed back to him.
I ignored him. "And that's whose fault? I'm cold. Reese, fix this."
Reese snorted at my childish demand, but still heaved himself up to a sitting position and began rummaging around in that backpack of his. I watched with my curiosity piqued, side-eyeing him as he held up a sweater, and only just catching it as he threw it in my direction.
Setting the bottle down in the dry grass next to me, I slowly pulled my arms through the navy blue zip-up. "You wouldn't have any snacks in there, would you?" I tried hopefully.
Reese thumped back down on the ground. "Don't get greedy."
"Just asking," I murmured, falling back down next to him.
There was a moment of silence that flooded between us, only interrupted by the soft chirp of crickets in the distance. His sweater was dry and snug around me, and I took another swig from the bottle, wincing slightly at the flame of vodka that trickled down my throat.
"What's with you? I'm the one that just punched someone in the face, why are you the one who needs all the booze?" I asked with suspicious eyes, slowly passing him over the bottle.
"While I know you were busy trying to commit homicide," he sighed, graciously accepting the vodka, "I almost got punched in the face by Warren Pierson. I don't know if you noticed. I told him to fuck off." He punctuated his words by bringing the rim to his lips, taking a generous gulp.
"Warren? Oh, who cares, why do you care what the fuck Warren Pierson-" I made sure to say his name with a stupid face- "thinks? With the amount of times he's been smoked in the head with a football, I don't even think he can. Think. He's dumb, is what I'm saying," I slurred lightly, and I could feel my thoughts begin to muddle on the tip of my tongue as the adrenaline that had previously sobered me up dissipated from my bloodstream.
Which is why I reasoned I was trying to comfort Reese at all. Even if it didn't make sense to me why he needed comforting in the first place.
Reese snorted at my words, and when I looked over, I could see his shoulders visibly relax. "It's- I'm impressed that you can just... I don't know, not care."
I shrugged. "Being drunk helps. Also realizing that Warren looks startling a lot like a potato helps. I mean, I care what some people think. The non-potato people."
Reese borrowed my stare, an amused smirk carving onto his face, bringing with it his signature dimple. "Like Tyler?"
I nodded, turning back to stare into the infinity draped above us. "Like Tyler. And my friends. I kind of wanted to go through this year under the radar, not throw inanimate objects at people, keep it cool, you know. But," I sighed, "It's whatever. Clearly I should've thought better then to do that and hang out with you. I seem to attract all sorts of trouble whenever I'm next to you. Damn, why'd Britta even freak out anyway?"
"Probably because she thought we were dating," he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders.
I narrowed my eyes at the nothingness. "Okay, so her misguided assumptions thought we were dating, why me? Why do they get mad at me and not, you know, the guy that's clearly doing the wrong. I'm just an innocent third party in this!" I threw my hands up in exasperation, brows furrowed as I tried to think of some reasonable explanation.
"It's not really that complicated. I mean, if she gets mad at me, then she loses any chance with me. So she redirects it to you. Someone has to be at fault," he explained, and I redirected my look of utter befuddlement to Reese and his deep revelations.
"Okay, when did you become a fucking psych major? Are you going psychoanalyze me next, Freud?"
He grinned over at me, eyes shining beneath the moonlight. "About the same time you became Rambo, I think."
"Whatever," I brushed him off, waving away any reminders of Britta and beer and punching. "Tell me though, how do you have girlfriends then? If these girls are just looking for reasons to throw things?"
Reese paused, and I watched with genuine interest, finding my drunk self entirely intoxicated by his presence. I was pretty sure it was the eyebrows. They were just so bushy.
"I usually tell people to back off. That I'll kind of get pissed if they do something. That usually works," he admitted, scratching at his forehead as he squinted into the distance in thought.
I huffed. "And you couldn't just be like, hey, you know Stella? She's actually, like, not a completely terrible person. For the most part. So maybe just, I don't know, stop throwing various food and beverages at her? Because she might appreciate that?" I gave an exaggerated shrug, throwing my arms around as I knitted my brows with a deep frown.
Reese barked out a laugh, eyebrows shooting up. "You want me to? Which would probably make people think we're dating?"
"No! I- just, well, fuck."
I crossed my arms across my chest and heaved a sigh.
Clearly wanting to keep edible items in my mouth and not on my person was too much to ask in this world. Little did I know that the seventeen years I'd spent before without being drenched in noodles and beer were just pure luck.
"It might help if I stopped making out with her, too," he murmured, sheepishly scratching the back of his head, and I whipped my head in his direction.
"What? When?" I demanded, eyes narrowed and my voice clipped.
A guilty half-smile crossed his face. "Uh, two weeks ago, I think?"
I gasped, reaching over to thump him in the chest with my first. "Reese!" I scolded, absolutely disgraced. "You told me you wanted help with Savannah like, a month ago!"
"But- we've barely even talked! You're expecting me to stay totally celibate for a girl who I've had like, two conversations with?"
"Yes!" I answered, very matter-of-fact. "I have!"
He paused, and I watched a cheeky smirk touch his face. "By choice?"
"Yes, by choice!" I scrunched my nose and hit him in the chest again, which he visibly flinched at.
I tried to ignore the burn that had seized my cheeks, heating up my face to unbearable temperatures. I hoped that with the darkness of the night and the buzz of alcohol he wouldn't notice. Although, I noticed that a scarlet tinge had also begin to settle across his face.
"Usually when you like someone, you stop making out with other people. That's how it usually works," I insisted, trying to avoid the conversation and my very minimalistic love life.
"Yeah, I can do that when I'm actually with someone," he scoffed.
I fixed him with a deadpan look. "Oh yes," I agreed dryly, dripping with sarcasm. "As you proved with Melissa. Multiple times. And is the only one I actually know of, so."
"I could!" he insisted, sitting up quickly and turning to look at me. "Seriously, if I really wanted to."
Reluctantly, I could hear Melissa's words echo in the darkest chambers of my mind, but promptly pushed them away. Instead I concentrated on the warm and fuzzy feeling in my stomach, and the flush that found my cheeks, and letting it all dissolve in the nightly air.
"All right," I said, sitting up and meeting his eye. "If you think you're so capable, prove it. You can't make out with anyone else from now on. Not even a little kiss. No parties!"
"What?" he complained with a pout. "But that's not even cheating. That's just having fun!"
"Nope!" I refused to budge. "You've proved yourself untrustworthy, Reese Powers! Every Saturday will now be dedicated to Tyler planning! And Friday is girl's night... so... pictures! You'll send me pictures throughout the night to prove you're not at a party!"
"Fine," he reluctantly agreed with a sigh. "I guess."
"Why are you looking like that?" I asked with puzzled brows. "What, you think that it's pointless? That Tyler will never like me? Is that it?"
I could feel my insecurities begin to spiral, fueled by Reese's words and the vodka that was soaked in my bloodstream. I brought my knees to my chest and felt a pout push out my bottom lip, a string of my still wet hair falling in front of my eyes.
"No, Sandavol, hey," Reese murmured, his face instantly softening as he inched closer to me. "Hey, no, that's not what I said. I totally think there's a chance."
I huffed. "Yeah, except not really. It's like every time I think that there's a chance, something always goes wrong! If he was going to like me, wouldn't he like me by now? Maybe I am just too unlikable. Maybe I'm just-" I took a deep breath, feeling a familiar burn in my chest as the word itched behind my teeth. "Crazy."
"Hey, what brought this on? Stella, listen, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't think there was a chance. Seriously. I'm not into wasting my time. I think- no, I'm sure. If Tyler just got to know you, he would totally like you. He'd so want to bone you. It would be bang city."
I'd rested my chin between my knees, and looked at him with a wary glance. "You're just being nice because we're both really drunk."
"Stella," he echoed, and I was disturbed the serious expression written on his face. "You're great. And if Tyler doesn't realize it, that's because Tyler's an idiot. Okay?"
"I still think you're the worst," I told him, although I could feel something inside of me warm at his words.
Reese barked out a laugh, and I felt myself drawn to the easy way his head fell back and his eyes drew shut. The edges of my consciousness were beginning to fade, and there was a slight spin to everything, but all I could focus on was Reese.
"I know, don't worry," he reassured me, his mega-watt grin never faltering. "I said I wouldn't waste my time on things I knew I couldn't change."
I sighed, peeking up at him. "But maybe," I started, unsure of where my words were taking me. "Maybe..."
I watched the smile fade on his face, now realizing that his amber eyes were dangerously close to me, and watching me back. There was a beat of silence as I felt my head lift up from the makeshift pillow I'd created with my arms, the flush of vodka burning on my cheeks and chest. I felt myself swallow, hard.
He blinked, his body barely moving. "Maybe?"
I looked up at him, our gazes melded together, both of us refusing to break. The words seemed to dissipate on my tongue. My lips parted, and I could feel a strange twist in my stomach, my cheeks growing warmer now. There was something climbing up my throat, clawing for freedom, and I paused.
"Reese, I-"
And then I threw up.
***
Okay so first, hello to all the new readers! I'm not sure where you guys came from, but welcome! Second, I know I'm the worst! I totally said I'd get an update a couple of days ago, but I hope this super long chapter will kind of make up for it?
In other news, I'm thinking of making a playlist for this story and would love your guys' suggestions for songs you think of would fit well with this?
Also a thank you to EmSlough for being an awesome author and such a sweet person! (if you're not reading her stories... what are you doing...?)
AND LASTLY, thanks to all of you awesome readers! You guys seriously don't know how happy your comments/votes and everything makes me so happy! You guys are the best!