R I S I N G
Love is deemed falling due to its euphoric highs and abyssal lows that feel like an infinite rollercoaster ride. Most are thrill chasers, infatuated with the notion that the highs last, but as the saying goes, what goes up must come back down. Why ride the unpredictable highs of love if you're only doomed to plummet back to square one, alone. Have you ever thought about it, why love isn't called rising?
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B E V E R L Y F A R B E R
Feelings are addictive.
The brain produces chemical reactions in response to certain emotions, similar to those experienced when taking part in other addictive behaviors or substances.
To put it plainly, yes, you can be addicted to love.
Believe me. Speaking from personal experience, I would know. And I've come to the conclusion that it is in fact the feeling of love that I'm addicted to and not the person from which the feeling originated. Because why would I be addicted to him? He used me for whatever gain he was seeking and then wrote me off.
I probably sound like one of those naive and heartbroken little girls that didn't see all of the clear red flags. I mean, that's what I would think if I saw anyone else in my situation, yet surprisingly it's not the case.
Some would say I'm the most intelligent person they know. I was always the one with my priorities in order. Always the one with some goal to reach, something to strive for.
I've always been the one who was so caught up in trying to be an adult that they didn't even know what a normal childhood was supposed to be like. Always so caught up in studying for the next test, chasing the next dream, that when the first attractive guy who really took an interest in her asked her on a date, she let him drag her into a committed relationship.
But I had no reason to stay away from Jordan.
Jordan Hallsworth was just like me. He comes from a line of wealthy businessmen, placing us in the same social circle. We had grown up in the same private school classrooms and played on the same swingsets. I had never really paid much attention to him in my youth but he was always easy on the eyes. And he was never easy for the girls. He is picky, something else I have in common with him, so when he expressed genuine interest in me I thought I had found the responsible guy I would settle down with. And the relationship was more than great. He was caring, a gentleman, and always looking for ways to please me. He never gave me one reason to doubt him.
So when I caught him in the throes with another woman one year into our relationship, to say shock is what I felt is an understatement. And then, as I had to pick my heart up off the floor, I realized it was too late to take it all back. I could never take back those long months I spent loving him. He got me hooked on a feeling that I couldn't escape.
So I'm not a naive little girl. It's not my character. I'm a hardworking woman who deserves more than what any man can give her. At least that's what I've told myself every day for the past three months of my healing, maybe to cover the deeply buried scars on my heart, but it works.
Succinctly, I've learned a lot about love, and as I said, feelings are addictive. Especially the ones that can leave you the most broken. Those are the feelings you can't run away from. But you can try. And try I am.
I've had a taste of the drug of love and I make it my mission every day not to relapse. So why I agreed to let Amber drag me into this steaming pit of hormones filled with horny, drunk boys and cozied up couples is beyond me.
See, my best friend Amber is my polar opposite. Had we not met by chance freshman year of college I probably never would have crossed paths with her. The personification of carpe diem, Amber is everything you would expect of a wild college girl. She's the spontaneity to my tame and we've been joined at the hip since we met against all odds. Only because of the fact that it's her birthday, I conceded to her pleas and joined her tonight for the last blast party at one of the larger houses near our college campus.
I never really liked parties, well, not in the sense that I'd go to them just for fun.
Really, the only reason I can stand to be in this dark room is the liquid amnesia laced with an absence of inhibitions swirling around in red solo cups. If parties have one positive attribute, it's that they are the perfect place to forget. Forget anything really whether it's a person, the fact that you have a dead-end nine to five job, or a feeling.
My dress gave me some motivation to be here. The sequined green fabric clings to my tall frame like a glove molding my curves. To keep it simple, I left my long, coffee-colored hair to cascade down my back. I've dressed up and I look confident. Sexy even. Amber told me that tonight would be the perfect refresher to clear the muck that the past summer has been out of my mind. There is truth to her words. I can't hide from the world forever, so I listened to her. Marking the start of a new school year, the last blast is supposed to be a way to commemorate the summer, or in my case, signify my clear slate.
After three months to stew over my breakup with Jordan, I'm ready to be myself again. No, a better version of myself, one that won't make the mistake of falling in love.
"Hey!" A shrill voice shrieks beside me, turning the ambient noise of my surroundings in a cacophony of my thoughts into party sounds once again.
I stumble a couple of steps to the right, observing a cackling freshman rushing past me with a shirt in his hands and a topless girl chasing right after him in a blur. I only shake my head at the scene and lean against the wall.
I straighten my posture, sighing in relief when I spot Amber approaching me with drinks in her clutches.
"Thank god." I snatch a cup of what appears to be vodka, taking a gulp "We've only been here thirty minutes and I've already seen at least three people naked." My face twists into a grimace as I look around at the house, overflowing with people and blaring with music.
Cheery laughter peals from Amber. "Lighten up. Look around. Everyone is having fun." She nudges me, taking a sip from her cup.
"Amber, you know this isn't my scene."
"Bev, I just wanted to get you away from work for a change. You deserve at least one night of fun."
I open my mouth to respond but she cuts me off. "And I know your idea of fun is bossing people around, but we're trying it my way tonight," she says determinedly.
"I do love bossing people around."
I only receive a loud groan from her.
"Come on."
Before I can object, she has a hand latched onto my arm, pulling me from my spot against the wall. We part the sea of people to weave our way to Amber's destination. She greets a handful of party-goers along the way like the social butterfly she is. I've never thrived off of social interaction the way she does. Independence is something I enjoy, and I never feel like I'm missing out on something when I'm alone.
We reach a sitting area that a group of Amber's friends occupies. I know most of them, not as well as her, but we're acquainted.
"Look who I brought," Amber sings.
I receive a few greetings as I perch myself on the arm of a couch next to Amber's seat.
"Hey, guys." I try to replicate my friend's cheerful attitude yet it proves a rather difficult task after functioning on autopilot for so long just to get through the day.
"Bev, we haven't seen you in so long. You should come around more," McKenna calls from her seat on the rug.
"You know how she is, always busy at work making me proud," Amber responds for me.
"Well, I haven't seen her in so long. Not since she ended things with Jordan."
Amber cuts her a sharp glare and I watch as McKenna's face falls.
"Oh, I didn't mean to-"
I place a hand on Amber's shoulder. "No, McKenna it's completely fine." I cut her off." "You guys don't need to walk on eggshells around me." I take a deep breath.
"Okay," The girl replies tentatively, with a small smile.
After a brief moment of awkward silence, a boy speaks up to my relief.
"Hey, I'm going to go refill." Amber gestures to her cup. "Do you want some more?"
"No. I plan to go home sober tonight."
A frown tugs at Amber's red-stained lips.
"Remember what we talked about? Lighten up?"
"Not tonight."
Admitting defeat, Amber huffs and stands up with only her cup in hand.
Before I can even tune into the ongoing conversation, I hear a voice I could have lived without hearing in a long time.
"Aye, Beverly Farber!" Yells Donovan, the local douchebag and, of course, best friend to the one and only Jordan Hallsworth.
I curse under my breath. I'm not a regular at these scenes, so I forgot he'd likely be here. Now it's only a matter of time until I spot someone I really don't want to see again.
"Donovan," I reply in a flat tone. Needing an escape to the situation, I turn my head to look for Amber only to find that she is long gone.
"Great," I mutter before picking up my feet to walk away from the area, ignoring Donovan as a whole. After a minute of trying to locate the kitchen, my best friend is still nowhere to be found.
And as if the night couldn't get any worse, I blindly run into someone's shoulder, making me stagger back.
"Sorry, it's dark I couldn't see y-"
My apology becomes lodged in my throat as my ex-boyfriend's face comes into view like a shock to my system and I have to stop myself from jolting back.
"Bev, it's been a while," Jordan states in surprise before I can muster up any words. He simply stands there comfortably in all his glory without a hair out of place as if the last three months didn't affect him at all.
His arm is around a petite blonde girl who eyes me in distaste.
The world really doesn't stop for anyone. These past three months have felt like time was frozen for me, but while my life was in shambles, everyone moved on.
I had felt heartbreak but I was done wallowing. Now, all I feel is hate towards Jordan. Hate for the man who claimed to love me for a year all the while cheating on me. How could someone do that to another person and not feel anything at all? He was a dead end with no warning sign, waiting for me to crash. If this is the real him, he put on quite a show while we were together. I look at the girl who is practically groping the man I barely recognize with disgust.
"Stay the hell away from me," I say with a bite that shocks me. With a severe look on my face, I spin around and walk away before either of them can respond.
My feet carry me to the entrance of the kitchen where a bright pitcher catches my eye.
Lighten up.
Maybe I should lighten up. If it works for Amber I might as well give it a shot. Tonight, I won't care.
Just tonight.
You're a fool, Beverly. Get him out of your mind.
I grab an empty cup and the handle of the pitcher.
I want to. I want to forget this feeling.
The swirling red concoction fills the plastic cup to the brim.
But I can't.
With boiling blood and anger I didn't even know was lurking in my mind, I throw my head back, feeling the liquid burn as it glides down my throat.
After a few more cups, I feel loosened enough for my likings, and I even find myself lightly swaying to the beat of the music. As if I'm looking through tinted glasses, everything has a hazy brightness to it. I feel my feet moving, but my mind isn't sure where they're taking me. My eyes drift over the dance floor and I spot someone just for a second who makes me stop in my tracks.
Leaning on the wall opposite to me stands a man's looming figure. Dark, intense, and as tall as he looks strong, the beautiful male drinks from his cup. With shadows cast over his face, I can see his movements but not his every feature.
What color are his eyes?
My intrigue sits at the front of my mind, springing my feet into step on the dance floor. Hips swaying to the seductive song, I approach him with a faint smile on my lips.
More of his face comes into view. My eyes rake over his dark hair, falling lightly tousled on his head, to his cutting jaw and chest peeking through his halfway unbuttoned shirt.
His eyes roam disinterestedly over the moving people around him. He doesn't see me yet.
I'll give him something to look at.
Liquor fueling my bad decisions, I begin my dance, hips rocking side to side as I feel the beat. Turning, I catch another glimpse of him and he makes eye contact with me.
Likely due to my inebriation, I can't feel anything but anticipation as I run my hands over my body, watching as his eyes follow their tracks. I send a salacious smirk his way, hoping it will do the trick, as I dance for him. The dim lights illuminate my glimmering emerald dress and bright green specks dance around the room as I move. Turning away from him again, I roll my body.
Time loses all meaning and seems to be moving in slow motion as my heartbeat pounds in my ears.
The next thing I know, hands are banded around my hips and fabric tickles my skin. Lips are lowered to my ear. "Putting on a show for me I see," The mysterious man murmurs.
His deep voice makes my skin prickle and I draw in a sharp breath at his front pressed against my back. I begin stirring against him to the beat of the rhythm. Then, I turn around, my face ending up mere centimeters from his. His cerulean eyes pierce into my green ones as he tightens his hold on me.
Blue. An almost unearthly, gleaming blue.
I reach my hands up to trace the skin of his jaw while his lips tweak into a grin as he sweeps his eyes over my face. And maybe it's due to the atmosphere of the hot dance floor or our intoxication, but no words need to be said as we simultaneously smash our lips together. At the feel of his kiss, everything disappears around me, and all of my thoughts are abandoned as our lips and tongues glide together. He tastes like vodka from tonight mixed with the exclusive flavor of him. The music is still blaring, but that doesn't bother us.
To catch his breath, he breaks apart from me, gasping as he says, "Upstairs." His hunger matches mine as we stumble up the stairs, hand in hand. I don't know how long it takes us, but we eventually reach an empty room.
My heart is racing as I lock the door and face him, questioning, "Whose room is this?"
Ignoring my inquiry, he only stares at me darkly and says, "It doesn't matter."
He lifts me up against the wall as I wrap my arms and legs around him. I feverishly place my lips on his again. His calloused hands roam all over my body, caressing and leaving trails of fire in their wake. As if we can't rip each other's clothes off fast enough, we make it to the bed as a tangled mess of sweaty limbs.
Needless to say, I just had my first one night stand.