"I see her from across the crowd. I said, the party is bumpin' and the music is loud..." - High School Party
. . .
Hamilton, Massachusetts, 2007
Justine
We walk into the party holding hands without either of us even noticing. My fingers are tangled with his, but it's just instinct. Second nature.
It's loud and full of teenage angst, trap music blasting and dancing bodies sweating.
"Fuck. This is exactly how they said it would be in the movies," I say, tightening my grip on Bo's hand. He smiles humorously, and stares forward.
"I guess we're really doing this, huh?" His eyes look like they're begging me to say no, but I'm not the one who backs down from a challenge.
"It's all part of the high school experience," I reply nonchalantly, but the smell of alcohol and vomit is making me nauseous.
Bo shrugs, his figure towering over everyone else.
"Alright. If you need me, just look up. I'll be the one standing a foot over everyone else," he jokes.
I smile. We're really doing this.
"In 3," I say.
"3."
"2."
"1."
Bo lets go of my hand, and, almost immediately, a gorgeous blond girl comes up and starts flirting.
I step into the party, but I don't see any familiar faces. I turn back around, but Bo's already disappeared, his slouch sinking him below the line of heads. I sigh and walk over to the refreshments table to pour myself a beer.
I already regret everything.
. . .
Bo
A pretty blond girl starts chatting me up, clearly drunk and wobbling on her high heels.
"So, are you a senior?" She giggles crazily, and brushes my arm with her fingers.
"Yeah. Senior year," I nod, shoving my hands in my pockets.
"Wanna drink?" She pulls me towards the refreshments table, and points to the impressive layout of stolen liquor and lukewarm beer. I shrug.
"Is there soda?"
She bursts into laughter as if it's the funniest joke she's ever heard, and I run my fingers through my hair, a little confused and embarrassed.
Is it not a thing to like soda?
She takes me to another room where the music is so loud it feels like every hair on my head is just going to shake itself off. I glance around, trying to find Justine. I don't see her.
The girl begins to rub up on me, and the smell of alcohol on her breath makes me sick. I push her away.
"Oh, come on! Don't be such a party pooper," the girl drawls drunkenly, giggling. I shove her away, and look around.
Justine isn't near the refreshments. She isn't in the bathroom. She isn't on the dance floor.
I push my way through the crowd and head upstairs.
"Justine!" I shout. It's much quieter up here. I don't get a response. I pull out my phone and see three missed calls from her. My stomach starts to churn.
I walk across the hallway upstairs and open a door. I open all the doors on one wall, disturbing three horny couples. Then, I slam all the doors shut and turn back. I head into a different hallway with just three doors.
I open one. Then, the next. Just two bathrooms.
I go to the last, and slam it open, and Justine is screaming on the bed, and some guy is there...
. . .
Justine and I sit in my car together. She's sobbing into my shoulder, and I'm holding her as tightly as I can. Her hands are tossed around my neck, and she's crying uncontrollably. I want to throw something out the window. The guy that was on her got a decent beating. He was probably too shitfaced to even feel it, though.
I clench my fists as I think about it, but I try to comfort Justine anyways. After a few minutes of silence, her sobs stop, and she almost seems to fall asleep on my shoulder. Her fingers relax a little, tickling my neck. I assume she's asleep until she begins to talk.
"You know, I thought he was just too drunk to think," she whispers. Justine turns her head so that she's just leaning on my shoulder, and she stares straight ahead.
"Do you want me to call the cops?" I ask gently, wrapping an arm around her.
She shakes her head. "No... I don't want to get my dad involved. My parents aren't supposed to know I was at a party."
We sit in silence for a moment. Then, I turn to her.
"Did he...?" My voice trails off, but Justine knows what I'm asking.
"No. You got there right... before," she shudders, and I tighten my grip around her. I brush her hair away from her face.
"You're fine, Justine."
She forces a smile and nods. "Yeah. I'm fine."
"I meant..."
"I know what you meant, Bo."
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault."
We sit in silence for a little longer. She wipes her tears away, and then wipes her mascara and eyeliner streaks away in the rearview mirror.
Then, she turns to me.
"Can I sleep at your house tonight?"
I nod. "Yeah, of course. Why?"
"I don't want to deal with my dad."
I nod, and start the car. "Straight home, or where?"
She shrugs. "Just drive."
. . .
Los Angeles, California, 2016
Justine
I'm rudely awakened by Bo's voice as the car comes to a halt.
"Justine, get out of the car." I sit up abruptly, but all I see is his apartment building.
"I don't live here," I say, looking out the window at the building that used to be so familiar.
"So? Where else can you go?" Bo asks pointedly.
"Home," I reply.
"Home? Your crazy boyfriend beat you up. Wanna tell me where that psycho lives so you can go be in his apartment?" Bo asks, far more hostile than I remember.
I blink away a few tears, feeling very foolish all of a sudden. "I don't want to live with you," I reply weakly, fighting off the tears that are threatening to spring out.
Bo shakes his head in frustration and gets out of the car, slamming his door. He opens my door and points at his apartment building. Then, he pops the trunk and pulls out my pink suitcase with all my stuff in it. He gestures for me to follow him.
So I do.
We go up the elevator as usual, past the hallway, and then into his apartment. Bo leads the way even though I know very well how to get there.
When he opens the door, the apartment is the same as it was before. There's a new TV and some flowers on the breakfast table. Lorene is sitting on the sofa, writing on a yellow legal pad, wearing a baggy t-shirt - one of Bo's baggy t-shirts - and sweatpants. Her red hair is in a very messy bun, and she turns to smile at Bo as he walks in. He rolls my suitcase onto the side of the door, and then he leans down and plants a long kiss on her cheek.
"Justine's staying with us, if that's alright with you," Bo says.
I awkwardly close the apartment door behind me and kick my shoes off. I wave awkwardly to Lorene.
She almost intimidates me. She's much older than me and much more mature.
Then, she smiles in a friendly way, and my fears melt away.
"Yeah, of course," Lorene says. "Justine, you can stay in the guest bedroom if you'd like. Or you can sleep on the couch if you like to stay up watching TV all night like Bo."
I smile. "Couch is fine."
Bo walks over to the fridge and grabs a bottle of water. I awkwardly sit down on the couch, resisting the urge to go to Bo's room like I always used to. I used to invite myself to do whatever I wanted in his home, but now Lorene is here.
It just reminds me of how much has changed.
How much he's changed.
Maybe I expected him to wait for me forever, but he's not my backup plan.
He should've been my only plan.
. . .
A/N: Shoot. I've been really bad about updating, but I've been busy and all. Did anyone see Make Happy? I already learned Lower Your Expectations on the piano, and am currently figuring out Are You Happy?. It was amazing, honestly. It's probably Bo's last show, but it's awesome. Word on the street is that he's doing a new book that's coming out September 2017. And a movie with Judd Apatow (allegedly). I know he's filming for something, but I don't remember what. So, this isn't the end of Bo... just an end.
If anyone is interested, a 30 day writing challenge for June has started over on my blog with corinneofthemoon on justwritingnonsense.tumblr.com . All the prompts are posted over there, so please check it out (and submit some writing if you'd like!).
That's all for now! Like, comment, add to your library, etc. Thanks all of you who stuck with me through this weird break! Love you all.