The Girl in Between

by Miranda Silver

  “Aren’t you sweet.” She blew him a kiss.

  “You know…” He leaned forward. “I’ve been having kind of an off day. But you’re really turning me on.”

  She laughed and swiveled away. Her hips rolled as she walked off. She didn’t have to look back to know his eyes were glued to her lush ass.

  What are you doing? a little voice asked in her head.

  Nothing. None of this counts.

  Back on the dance floor, she went straight for the platform in the middle, brushing against innumerable bodies. People helped her up. Her high heels clicked on the wood. One helpful guy took both her hands, pulling her into the center of the platform.

  Tall, dark-haired, handsome — she almost saw Ian in front of her. She squeezed both his hands, laughing and matching his movements. He was a good dancer. Ian had rolled his hips like that at the club, when the twins had taken her out for her graduation present, inviting her to shed every last inhibition and follow him anywhere.

  But he’d had help. Brendan, behind her, had stoked her desire as much as Ian in front of her. Coaxing where Ian challenged. Persuading her to cross every line, act out every last fantasy. If she’d been alone with Ian that night — it was hard to imagine — she wouldn’t have ended up in someone else’s bed.

  When she spun out from the guy in front of her, still holding his hands, her back brushed a hard male chest. Instead of pulling away or apologizing, she deliberately bumped him again. And when he moved in closer, she thrust back.

  Hands closed over her hips, pulling her up against whoever was behind her. The guy in front of her raised his eyebrows. Then he smiled and moved in so she was sandwiched between two firm bodies.

  This — yes. This was what she’d been missing, this was what she needed. Just for a little while. Just for now. She closed her eyes and lost herself to the waves of the music, the roll and thrust of her body between two men, the jiggle of her curves and the hands that were getting bolder.

  Ian was going to bend down and kiss her, any minute, and her neck tingled, waiting for Brendan’s tongue. Everything was fine. The three of them were unbreakable, dancing together was what they needed to do, and tomorrow morning she’d be all Ian’s again. They all understood.

  There were no secrets between any of them, no words left unsaid.

  She couldn’t wait, she needed to kiss Ian and show him how happy she was. She reached up, her eyes flickering open.

  But that wasn’t Ian in front of her, grinning broadly and gyrating his hips into hers. It was someone else, someone she recognized: Raj, from her writing seminar. And it wasn’t Brendan behind her, squeezing her waist, grinding against her ass with a very noticeable erection. It was — oh Jesus, some drunken stranger.

  She’d been loving the attention, the stares heated her skin, the two bodies against hers were very male, but in an eye-blink, it all felt less safe, and…Ian. She wanted Ian. Right now.

  “Excuse me,” she giggled to Raj. As she stepped to the side, the room tilted, hazy.

  “I got you.” He caught her arm. “You want to go somewhere?”

  “I need to go outside. Get some air.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  She straightened and pulled her arm from his. The stranger had a hand on her back. He and Raj were making eye contact, clearly wondering where this was going and whether they should cooperate.

  “I just really have to go. By myself. It’s urgent.” She smiled, waved, and lurched forward. Fortunately, someone helped her down from the platform.

  Where was her coat? She fought her way to the pile behind a couch, fishing through endless black parkas until her fingers closed around a purple wool sleeve. Shouts and whistles followed her. Were they meant for her? When she straightened up, someone started giving her a back rub. She looked over her shoulder. Cute guy. Unfamiliar guy.

  “Do I know you?” she giggled.

  “Not yet.”

  “I have to go.” She pushed past him and edged out the door.

  Getting her coat on was awfully challenging, and it was taking longer than usual. She stumbled down the stairs and found a quiet spot on the lawn by a low stone wall.

  Perfect. It was so warm out here — at least, she was so warm — and she missed lying on the grass. She’d done that practically every night, all summer. How had she not lain on the grass even once at Yale? Time to fix that. She dropped to her knees on the lawn, tried to button her coat, gave up, and curled up on the grass.

  So peaceful. The night was clear. Even with the lights of campus, stars sparked overhead.

  This. This was good. This was right. But Ian wasn’t here. She needed him to make this complete.

  Fumbling in her pocket, she searched for her phone. No, not there… Maybe her other pocket… Not there either. She lay on her back, watching the stars. Maybe her phone was gone forever. But wait — there was another pocket. She felt inside her coat until her fingers brushed the hard shape of her phone, tucked inside the inner pocket by her chest.

  Yes. She’d call Ian, and he’d be here, and everything would be all right.

  It only took a few tries to pull up his number and tap it. But when the call went through, Ian’s phone rang and rang. After an eternity, his voicemail picked up.

  Hey. You’ve reached Ian. Leave me a message and maybe I’ll call you back.

  “Hi Ian,” she cooed. “I have a message for you. Call me back.”

  After a minute, she hung up. She waited patiently, following the shape of Orion in the sky and counting the stars in its belt. But Ian wasn’t calling back. She tried again and again. Nothing.

  The December air was sweet. Crisp with a hint of smoke. She should be cold, shouldn’t she? How long had she been lying on the grass? Her head was beginning to throb, and when she sat up, it took enough effort that standing seemed like a bad idea.

  “Maybe I need some help,” she giggled. People were coming and going, up and down the steps of the house, but she was out of sight, sitting by the corner of the wall. “I can let nice people help me.”

  She eyed everyone milling around the house’s entrance. Then she looked down at her phone, tapping through her address book, searching under S.

  Unlike Ian, Sonia picked up.

  “What?” she demanded. There were no hellos with Sonia.

  “Can you help me?”

  There was a pause. “Where are you?”

  “I’m outside Sig Nu. On the grass.”

  “You’re an idiot. Are you alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you walk?”

  “Um…kind of?” Diana stood up experimentally. Bad idea. Very bad idea. She swayed, grabbing the stone wall for support. “I just really wanna lie down right now.”

  “Where are those bitches you came with?”

  “Don’t start, Sonia. They’re good people, okay?”

  “I mean it. They shouldn’t have left you alone.”

  “I left them alone. They’re probably inside.”

  “Fuck ‘em. They’re probably as drunk as you. I’m coming. I’m halfway across campus now.”

  “Thanks. You’re so great. You’re really fierce, you know? You’re like a really fierce mama bear.”

  “Uh-huh. Keep talking.”

  By the time Sonia showed up, Diana was sitting down again, leaning her head against the wall. The stars turned overhead in slow circles.

  Texts were coming through to her phone, from Kate and Eleanor. Where are you? She’d ignored them while she was waiting for Ian to call.

  Right here, she texted back, fumbling with the phone. Where else? Sonia’s taking me home.

  Home. Where was home? Her bedroom. Her backyard. The twins’ treehouse. Their Jeep. Ian’s room with posters plastered all over the walls. If there were a lot of places that felt like home, did you feel more at home in the world? Even if you weren’t in any of them?

  “Seriously, Diana?” A disgusted voice cut through her reverie. “Look at you squatting in front of America
’s favorite frat. I thought you were smart. Like, actually smart.”

  Sonia was standing over her, bundled in a scarf, beanie, and mittens. Maybe it really was cold out.

  “I’m on vacation,” Diana said confidingly. “From being smart.”

  Someone knelt down next to her, but it wasn’t Sonia. It was a guy.

  “Need some help?” he asked in a friendly tone.

  “She’s fine,” Sonia said firmly.

  Diana squinted at his messy blond hair. “Hey, you’re the bartender! Aren’t you supposed to be tending bar?”

  “My shift’s over.” He grinned at her. “I saved you the bourbon. If you can walk inside with me, it’s yours.”

  Sonia gave him an icy glare. “Go. Away.”

  He batted a hand at her. “Come on, I’m just making sure your friend can walk okay. Are you a freshman?” he asked Diana. “I have a special for freshman girls. Two drinks for the price of one.”

  She pointed at him, giggling. “You can’t fool me. They’re all free.”

  Sonia pushed up her sleeves, her stance reminding Diana of the boxing match Ian had taken her to.

  “What part of ‘Fuck off’ do you not understand?” she spat. “Do you need some help? Get out of here.”

  Bar Boy stepped back. “Okay, okay. Sheesh. You’re her guardian angel, aren’t you?”

  Sonia didn’t reply. Diana tried to look fierce from her spot on the grass. When Bar Boy lurched up the steps to the house, Sonia sprang into action.

  Holding out a hand, she hauled Diana to her feet. A supporting arm looped around Diana’s back. Funny, the way her legs wobbled underneath her. Very funny. Sonia was surprisingly sturdy, her arm like steel.

  “You're really strong,” Diana giggled, as Sonia steered her off the lawn. “You're all petite and stuff, but I bet you could just go, like, pow through a wall.”

  “Oh my God.” Sonia shook her head. “Just walk.”

  “Is this really America’s favorite frat?”

  “Who cares?”

  They started across campus. Diana was grateful for Sonia’s firm grip, because her ankles weren’t always cooperating. But that was okay. They were just ankles. She began to hum.

  “Are you singing? Really?”

  “Yes, really.” She hugged Sonia with both arms.

  “Stop.”

  “No.”

  “You're such a happy drunk,” Sonia remarked disdainfully.

  “‘Course I am. Everything's great. I'm gonna sing again, okay?”

  “No. What were you doing out there?”

  “Lying on the grass. Oh, first I was dancing with some guys. But then it was time to go. Without them.”

  “They didn’t follow us, did they?”

  “Shit, I didn’t even think of that.” And she’d been so goddamn careful about guys for so many years. Diana lurched, trying to look over her shoulder. Sonia looked too.

  “No one’s back there,” she confirmed. “You know Raj? He was one of them.”

  “Harmless. He won't bother you.”

  “I didn’t know the other guy. The one who was behind me.”

  “You were between two guys?” Sonia rolled her eyes.

  “It just…happened,” Diana explained. “The one behind me was saying something before I left. Really loud, in my ear. It seemed important. I think he was saying, ‘My penis is so happy right now.’ Ew,” she added belatedly.

  They passed one building after another, closed and locked for the night.

  “You want me to go back and fix that for him?”

  “God, no. Don’t let go of me.”

  “Fine. But what the hell, Diana? You have Ian.”

  “No-o-o. Not right now I don't. And I need him. He's not answering his phone, and I don't know where he is, and I want him now —”

  “All right. Okay. It's okay, Diana. He'll call you back.”

  “But I neeeeeed him. I need him so bad.” Her breath made white clouds in the cold night air.

  “Maybe he's staggering around like you. Too bad you can't be idiots together.”

  “Him and Brendan are idiots together,” Diana hiccuped. “They’re stupid boys.”

  “I wonder,” was all Sonia said. “Step up.”

  She wrestled Diana up the dorm stairs. Somehow, they made it to their room, and oh yes, her nice soft bed, which Sonia got her into so helpfully and gave her a cup of water, all while delivering a long, obnoxious lecture about how alcohol was concentrated poison.

  “Okay. I get it,” Diana groaned. “I know what it does to my brain cells. And my liver. And my everything else. And my bed is better than a lawn somewhere.” Her body felt more solid. The furniture looked more solid. Her head, she wasn't sure about. “I’m in your debt forever.”

  “Yep, you are. Just buy me a smoothie tomorrow. You're not going to puke, are you?”

  Diana thought about it. “No.”

  “I’ll leave you alone now. Go to sleep.”

  “K. Thanks, Sonia.”

  “Whatever.” A smile sneaked onto Sonia's face. “I won't say 'any time.' But you're welcome.”

  “Leave the lamp on?”

  Sonia nodded and quietly closed the door behind her.

  The desk lamp cast a warm glow over the room. Diana flung an arm above her head and stared up at the ceiling. Sonia had helped her out of the red dress and hung it up in the closet. Her lacy black bra lay over her desk chair. Her high heels stood by the bed. Her panties were the only piece of clothing she still had on.

  She should be nodding off to sleep right about now, but her eyes refused to close. Her body felt heavy, still warm.

  Heaving herself up, she reached for her phone to try Ian once more. This time, the phone picked up on the second ring.

  “Hey, Di,” a familiar deep voice said.

  She sighed with sweet relief and snuggled under the covers. “Hey, baby.”

  He laughed softly. “It’s Brendan.”

  What? Of course. Brendan called her ‘Di;’ Ian never did. Unless he was impersonating his brother.

  “Is this really Brendan?” she asked, toying with the covers.

  “Yep, it’s me.” There was a smile in his voice. “Who else?”

  “Ian, for starters. You’re answering his phone.”

  “I saw you called a bunch of times, cutie. I figured you’d want an answer.”

  “Where’s Ian?” Panic seized her gut. Brendan sounded relaxed, but that was how Brendan always sounded. Almost always. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine, Di. My better half's passed out right now. I got him to his bed.”

  “What?” She sat up.

  “He had a lot to drink tonight. He’s sleeping it off. Once in a while, Ian needs to rage really hard, and he hasn’t in a long time. He’ll be fine in the morning.”

  “Ohhhhh.” The air and tension rushed out of her. “I just got put to bed too. Because I also kind of drank a lot. But Ian—”

  “He’s totally fine,” Brendan repeated, his voice assured. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so,” she giggled, lying back down. “Your ‘better half.’ I've never heard you say that before. Who thinks Ian's your better half?”

  “Just me, Di. And you.”

  And Sonia, she thought. “No, you're good too, Brendan. You're a good boy. I know you are.”

  “Thanks.” He laughed softly.

  “Were you drinking also?”

  “Mm-hmmm.”

  She’d always figured Brendan wasn’t capable of getting totally wasted. That, or he just didn’t drink enough to lose control. But there was a definite slur in his voice. She could see him lying back, his solid body relaxed, his eyes half-closed and a dreamy smile on his face.

  Her thoughts were drifting, swirling. “How come you have all those old pictures of us on your wall at home?”

  “Guess I'm just sentimental that way.”

  “You probably don't even think about us or remember the old times.”

  “I remember all of
it, sweetness.”

  Sweetness. The nickname sent warm ripples through her body. Brendan hadn’t called her that since the Fourth of July.

  “Mmmmm,” she sighed. “I like it when you call me that. Was it real with you and me and Ian? Or was it a dream?”

  There was a pause. “Both, Di.”

  “It was really nice.”

  “Mm-hm. You’re nice.”

  “No, you are,” she argued. “Even if you’re secretly bad and naughty, you’re the nicest boy I know. I always thought so when we were kids.”

  Brendan’s laugh was nice too, but even through her soft haze, she heard a note of regret. “Makes me wonder what boys you know, cutie.”

  “I know enough. And you always have the best intentions.”

  “Except when I fake it,” he said softly. “Or protect Ian too late. I know that’s what you think, Di.”

  “I have thought that,” she murmured. “But I don’t blame you anymore. You both made your choices. We all do.”

  “Thanks.” Brendan’s voice in her ear made it seem like he was next to her. “I mean it.”

  She wished she were face to face with Brendan. Cuddled in bed together, his warm body close to hers, his long-lashed hazel eyes steady. Preferably Ian’s bed, with Ian stretched out on her other side, sleeping peacefully and obviously okay so she wouldn’t worry. He’d stir and slowly come awake as she and Brendan talked, joining in the conversation with a drowsy joke, soothing her naked curves with his hands…

  “You and Ian don't make your plans anymore. You don't have your agreements. That's good, right? It's good.”

  “We have other agreements, sweetness. And we kept some old ones.”

  “Okay,” she said sleepily. “Do you like the girl you brought home a few weekends ago? 'Cause she was really loud. In bed, I mean. You know, through the wall.”

  “You're loud too, Di.”

  “Oops. Sorry.”

  “’Sokay.” A chuckle broke through his dreamy voice.

  Diana pulled the covers over her head like a tent and curled up with her phone. “Did you use your handcuffs on her?”

  “Is that any of your business?”

  “No. Uh-uh. But pleeeease, Brendan? I wanna know.”

  Man, she really was drunk. That was the same pleading little-sister voice she’d used when they were kids and wanted Brendan to teach her how to pop a wheelie, or how to climb the gnarled tree that stretched over the creek in the park.