After lots of time to think, I finally decided that the way to forget about this bastard of a man would be to party. I would dress in my sexiest dress and go out with my friends to the most expensive club on the block.
Even though I hated music, I was always social and I was always up to a good party. I never got filthy drunk and I laughed as my friends would be carried home by men they just met.
Once I asked a few of my friends to meet me at the club, I looked through my closet for a dress to wear. I settled for a tight black dress and black heels. I finished it with a winged eyeliner and my custom made Coach clutch.
After I straightened my hair, I put all of my things into my clutch and made my way downstairs to my waiting limo.
When I got to the club, my friends had multiplied. Most of the people there I didn’t know but I didn’t necessarily care because I was just there to have fun.
“Hey Isabelle! I’m really glad you invited me here.” I literally had no idea who this person was, but she smiled and hugged me so I don’t think she was planning to kill me or anything.
“Don’t expect an invite to anything else,” I murmured, walking over to the bar and stealing someone’s shot, quickly downing it and slamming some money on the table. I watched as Brittney navigated herself through the crowd and found her way over to me.
“Let me buy you a few drinks, Izzy,” she said with a devilish grin.
Drinking became easy for me. The drinks came easily, and they were gone just as simple. I never thought of myself as a heavy drinker but I guess I just needed something to take the edge off of my growing anxiety from stupid Mike Fuentes.
“I haven’t seen you this waisted in a long time, Izzy,” Brittney slurred, putting her arm around me.
“Maybe because my dad is such a dickhead,” I replied, finishing my martini and throwing it on the floor.
Brittney burst out into an obnoxious laugh. “You just broke a glass!” She yelled.
“Shh!” I put my hand over her mouth and laughed with her. “Blame it on the sweaty nerd over there,” I said, pointing to the girl that approached me at the beginning of the night.
“What the hell are you doing?” I watched as Mike Fuentes pushed himself through the crowd until he was in front of me, and grabbing my arm. He pulled me away from Brittney and I stumbled across the floor, into his chest.
“Why are you here? You’re a fucking moose vagina and I don’t want to see you!” I said, trying to free myself of his grip.
He held me close to him and whispered in my ear, “we’re going home now.”
“Bye Brittney!” I yelled as I pulled Mike through the crowd and outside. Let’s just say my judgement wasn’t the best when I was drunk.
“Did you bring a car?” Mike asked as we walked down the sidewalk together with me tripping over the sidewalk a few times.
“No... my house is just down the road, and then you turn, and then you probably turn again. I don’t know, just ask someone where I live and they’ll know,” I slurred.
He groaned but continued our way home.
When I woke up I had a killer headache. I groaned and turned to my bedside table to see what time it was. Before I looked at my clock I noticed a bottle of Tylenol and a water bottle beside my bed. I didn’t question it and quickly swallowed a pill before getting out of bed and putting my housecoat on over my half-naked body. God knows how I got myself undressed last night.
I went into my living room and screamed at the sight of Mike Fuentes sleeping on my couch. He was fully-clothed and his dirty shoes were all over my clean beige couch. He is so fucking dead.
I grabbed a spare pillow and starting hitting him as hard as I could with it. “Wake the fuck up!” I yelled.
He groaned as his eyes opened and he looked at me with a disappointed glare. “What time is it?” He asked in a low, gravelly voice.
“Why the fuck are you in my house? is the more important question,” I shot, throwing the pillow at him and putting my hands on my hips.
“You were waisted last night and I just happened to be at the same club as you and one of your friends asked me to take you home,” he answered with a shrug.
“Is that the truth?” I asked, my voice lowering.
“No,” he said, simply.
“Did you rape me?” I suddenly yelled, backing away from him.
“No! I wouldn’t rape you! God Isabelle, you always think the worst, don’t you? The truth is, I found one of your drunk tweets on Twitter and you left the location on. I got worried and picked you up and brought you here. I slept on the couch because I was too tired and lazy to find my hotel,” he explained, running his hands through his hair and locating his snapback on the floor.
“Then why was I undressed?”
He stood up. “Look, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe,” he said, making a break for the door.
I ran ahead of him and stood in front of the door so he couldn’t get out. “Mike, why was I undressed?” I asked again.
He groaned. “Please just let me leave. I promise I won’t bother you again.”
“Look here, Mike Fuentes,” I started, putting my finger on his chest. “This is the second time you’ve taken me out of a dangerous situation. You kissed me, and you refuse to tell me why I woke up undressed. You better give me some fucking answers before I file a fucking restraining order on you and your pretty little band.”
I noticed his prominent Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nervously. “You probably did it yourself after I left your room,” he said, his voice quiet.
“You and me both know that that isn’t the truth. You are a terrible liar.”
“Because I like you, and I think you’re beautiful! There, I said it. Now will you please fucking move so I can go home?” He finally yelled, his expression was full of embarrassment and the slightest bit of anger.
“Beautiful?” I repeated, my mind going blank. He can’t possibly think I’m beautiful. His type is tattoos and black hair, right? That is not me.
“I thought maybe you’d get it when I kissed you, but I guess not,” he said with a small laugh. “You’re a little slow, Isabelle.”
“I’ve never met someone whose had the nerve to insult me the way that you do. Frankly, I find it quite-” I once again found myself being interrupted by Mike’s lips on mine.
I felt myself falling into the kiss, until I snapped back into reality and pulled away from him, the back of my head hitting the door with a loud thump. “I really wish you would stop doing that,” I said, rubbing my head.
“Do you feel the same? ‘Cause if you don’t I can... leave,” he said, suddenly looking awkward again.
Do I feel the same? I don’t even know anything anymore. He is everything I’m not and more, but somehow I feel strangely attracted to him. I took a deep breath, getting myself ready for one of the most difficult sentences I will ever have to say in my life. “Um... will you stay?”