by Amy Brent
“Which way to the bar?”
He turns fast, spinning left than right.
“That way!” I point.
“Onward then!” Ryan bolts into a run, carrying me through the crows. The snobs gasp as we tromp through and land at our destination. He plops me down on the chair and flashes me a wink. Christian runs up next to us.
“Now what is the princess having to drink?” he asks.
“I’m having vodka!”
I hold my glass up to show them.
“Of course you are,” Ryan rolls his eyes and leans over the counter.
“We will have two vodka sodas, because that’s what the princess is having.”
After we all have our drinks in our hand, Christian stands up onto one of the tables under the tent.
“Attention!” he shouts even louder, ”Attention, ladies and gentlemen! I would like to make a toast to a very special girl!” The room falls quiet as all the eyes shift toward him. “To the dear and beautiful Jasmina. You have always been a dear angel in our lives, and we are so blessed to have seen you grow. There are no words for how proud we are of you. And even if Mark won’t admit it, we know you're the smartest person in the world. We love you! Cheers!”
My cheeks turn a bright red. I cannot believe he just did that. The night is finally turning around.
“Cheers,” everyone calls back raising their drinks into the air and toasting to me.
“Thank you,” I say smiling till my cheeks hurt.
Christian looks at me for a long moment. Our eyes hold, and then he climbs down the table.
“What’d you think of that?” he asks. “A little too much or was it good.”
“It was perfect, Christian,” I reach my arms around his waist and give him a long hug.
“I thought you were gonna burst out crying from how emotional you were getting,” Ryan sighs standing up and patting Christian’s back.
“I thought I was too, but I didn’t want it to be too dramatic or embarrassing.”
“It was nice,” my father says, walking up to the three of us.
“Mark!” the friends say right at the same time. They greet my father with one of those guy handshake hugs.
“What are two having to drink?” he asks.
“Vodka!” Christian holds up his glass.
“Vodka?”
“That's what the graduate is drinking; she’s the one with the college degree,” Ryan announces, putting his arm over my shoulder. I want to fall into his chest. I can smell his warm, spicy cologne. I hope it stays on my dress.
“Oh, right,” Mark says, glancing over at me distantly.
“I can’t even imagine how proud you must be,” Ryan sighs. “I mean Christian here is about to cry.”
“Yeah, I am...as long as she continues to make good decisions.”
“I’m right here,” I saw flatly. He continues talking over me.
“Oh, Ryan - I met Vivian Montague. She is absolutely beautiful.”
Viviane Montague! I scream in my head. I take a deep breath, but it doesn’t help. It feels as though someone has just ripped the floor out from under me. I am an absolute idiot for thinking once I graduated college they would want me. I have always dreamed of being with one of them since I can remember. They were more than just my dad’s best friends. They were like my best friends, always taking care of me more than normal. I have never been with anyone else. The happiness I am feeling is completely drained out of stomach. I close my eyes.
“Jazzy, you need to meet her. She’s been dying to meet you.”
I hear Ryan’s voice, but that is the last thing I want. I know I am being horribly selfish. My feelings are not logical, but I cannot help it. I force a tight smile.
“Yeah… who is this?”
“My girlfriend. I can’t believe she found you, Mark.”
“Yeah, she ran right up to me and was like ‘oh my god, I have heard so much about you.’”
Sounds like an amazing woman.
“Where is she?” Christian asks. He’s already finished two vodkas.
Ryan glances around the backyard, His beautiful eyes scanning quickly.
“She’s somewhere, here...Oh! There!” he cups his long fingers around his mouth and begins to shout.
“Viviane! Viv!”
He waves his arms dramatically. I force myself to suppress the feelings of intense jealousy as the long legged brunette comes strolling up. She is wearing a tight black dress with large augmented breasts sticking out. Her cat like eyes lock onto us. She can’t be any more than a couple years older than I am. I bite my lip and frown. I feel Christian’s hand land on my lower back.
“Jaz, you okay?” He always knew when I was upset.
“Yeah,” I lie, giving him a quick glance.
“The vodka starting to hit?”
“Yeah,” I fake laugh.
I am not sure who to hate more - myself for caring or her. I wish I wasn’t so attracted to them and I could just find myself loving some man, but none compare. There is no one in the world more perfect than them, and I will never have either. This has easily turned into the absolute worst night ever.
“Hello,” she almost purrs when she talks, in some soft wispy voice.
“Viv, this is Jaz,” Ryan motions.
I reach a reach a hand out for a shake. Her soft hands clasp mine.
“It’s Jasmina,” I say flatly, staring at her.
She smiles. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Seems like you’ve heard a lot… Ryan is quite the talker.”
“Really? You think so.”
I raise my eyebrows and take a drink. Yeah, we won’t be best friends. She flips a wad of long hair over her shoulder and slips her arm around Ryan’s waist.
“So I hear you are an absolute amazing artist,” she coos at me like I am some child. I glance over at my father’s eyes. They are burning into the side of my head.
“Yeah, I guess-”
“It’s a great hobby of hers,” Mark interjects, shutting the topic down in the most elegant way possible.
“It's not a hobby,” Christian corrects. “And she’s a fucking fantastic painter.” I step closer to Christian. He is always defending me.
“I’d love to see some of your work,” she turns to face me.
“Maybe…”
I chug the rest of my drink right then and there. There wasn't that much left, so I don’t look too much like an alcoholic.
“Looks like I need another,” I announce, shaking the plastic cup. I slip away then, finding my way to the bar. Tonight couldn’t have been more worse. I waited all this time for them, and then boom - Ryan brings Viviane along. I don’t want another drink. The alcohol is starting to be too much.
I sit down on the bottom steps of the deck. I am in full pity party mode. I don’t know why I thought I would be able to lure Christian and Ryan in with just the mere sight of me. I stare down in the blue dress I was so excited for them to see me in. I remember putting it on and thinking about them ripping it off of me. Stupid. It is all so stupid. I look up and see all of them talking with Viviane. She has encaptured all their attention with her large tits and mysterious eyes.
I sit for about twenty minutes watching the groups of people engage with one another. I try not to focus on my father and his friends and that woman. It’s hard not to. A group of my father’s people moves in front of me, but they do not even know who I am.
“I heard Jasmina has been accepted into several medical schools already.”
“Do you know which ones?”
“I think he mentioned University of Michigan.”
“That's a good one.”
A rock drops fast inside of my stomach. How could my father lie like that. So blatantly and expect it to be okay? That is crazy! Is he really that determined to live a lie where I attend med school and become a doctor? I have no desire to take that route. The conversation made me want to vom
it everywhere. If he is telling people this then what was even the point of having the party? Oh, congratulations, Jasmina. We are celebrating when you decide to finally listen to me, and do what I want you to do. I stand up fast. I don’t care anymore. This was never about me. This is all about him so that he can show off to his stupid rich friends, and they can talk about nothing but themselves. It’s a competition. All of his friends’ kids are going to be doctors. God forbid I am an embarrassment for liking something else.
I push past a herd of people and march right up to him. I fold my arms and look him straight in the eyes. Viviane is in the middle of terribly compelling story about herself and shopping in Germany, but I don’t care. I actually enjoy interrupting her very much.
“You are a liar,” I snap.
They all get quiet and look down at me.
“What?” Mark asks taken aback. I know he's going to tell me that this party is for me, and he did this all for me. But that’s not true on bit.
“I said that you are a liar. What part did you not hear?”
His face expression shifts.
“What are you talking about?”
“Why are you telling people that I have been accepted to several medical schools, when I haven't even applied to anything. Don’t you think that’s lying?”
“I haven’t lied. I applied for you.”
“What?! Are you serious? Why the hell would you do that!?” My voice is loud now, and it carries throughout the backyard. But I want to make a scene. I want him to feel embarrassed, the way I feel embarrassed.
“Jasmina!” he barks.
“I don’t want to go to med school! I want to fucking paint!” I scream staring at him. My blood is pumping now.
His face remains solemn and stern. That's how I know I have pissed him off. He stares at me silently, clenching his jaw, and his hands tight in fists.
“You are fucked. You know that?” I say
“Jazzy, calm down.” Ryan rests a hand on my shoulder. I jerk it away. He is the last person I want touching me.
“Let’s talk about his later,” Mark responds slowly, trying to keep his cool the best he can. Everyone is staring at us now like the family circus that we are.
“No, I want to talk about this right now!”
He takes a firm step forward. The knuckles grabbing his glass are white. How much has he had to drink?
“Are you sure you want to do that, Jasmina?”
“Yup.”
I fold my arms and plant my feet to let him know that I am not going anywhere this time.
“Okay. Let’s talk about how your little art degree won’t amount to anything, and that you can’t try to live off of 20k a year, unless you want to live in some shit dump apartment.” Mark’s face is bright red. Sweat drips down his forehead. Christian sticks his arm out between us.
“Both of you calm down.”
“Money isn’t everything!” I scream over Christian. I am not just saying this to my dad. Oh no! That is a message for everyone at the party. “You and all of your snobby friends only care about image and money! That’s it! Not even human decency!”
I don’t wait to watch the reaction, or to hear what words Mark will combat me with. In his head he is always right, no matter what. I spin on all the balls of my feet and race up past the deck. The crowds of people are stunned and silent, overwhelmed with awkwardness. Similar feeling to being a child and watching your friend scolded by their parent.
I run straight up to the third floor of our massive home. Several party goers who were inside and missed the big fight, try to stop and talk to me. But the hot tears running down the side of my face tell them to stop any form of communication.
I slam the bedroom door, and throw myself onto the large fluffy king size bed in a very dramatic way. Heavy tears fall from my ears as I cry into my favorite pillow. I usually never lose my temper, but between Viviane and my father everything just exploded into this stupid frenzy of emotion. I lay there for a moment, shaking and crying. My makeup is completely off my face and onto the bed.
I freeze as soon as I hear the doorknob slowly turn, and the door click open. A small stream of the hallway light spills over me.
“Can I turn on the light, or is it one of those sit in darkness things?”
“Go away Ryan!” I whimper through the pillow.
“No.”
The door creaks open more, and two large bodies slam onto the bed on either side of me. I don’t dare lift my head from the pillow.
“Come on, Jas,” Christian says; his hand resting on my back, gently scratching. The sensation of him touching me makes me warm. I stretch my back to invite the touch and let out a soft moan.
“Look at us,” Ryan says softly.
“NO! I look like a monster.”
“Do you think we care?”
I have always dreamt of this moment, being in my bed between their warm bodies, to feel them both touch and kiss me. Why did it have to be like this? This is so degrading. I lift my head and see both of them, but just for a second. They look so concerned. But then I tilt my head down right back into the covers.
“There- are you happy?” I ask.
“Okay, come on,” Ryan whispers. “We hate seeing you cry. Especially at your graduation party.”
“It's not even my party!” My voice is muffled as I speak through the blankets.
“What was that?” Christian asks.
“It's not my party!” I shout, lifting my head up.
“Says who?”
“I literally don’t know any of the people here, besides you guys.”
Ryan takes a long deep breath.
“Why do those other people matter? We can have our own party!”
I lift my head up from the pillow. They look so handsome then, but I know that I won’t ever get to be with them the way that I have always wanted. Ryan had some new beautiful woman. How was I supposed to compete with her?
“I appreciate you guys trying to make me feel better, but I can’t go back down there, not after that whole mess…”
“We get it,” Christian says, as he and Ryan stand. I suddenly have the urge to pull them back down, but I don’t. I just watch.
“Do you want us to stay?” Ryan asks.
“No...I just want to be alone.”
“Alright, Jaz, that’s fine. If you need anything, just come find one of us.”
“Thanks.”
They walk out of the room, and the light from the hallway disappears as they close the door. It clicks with a shut.
Chapter 2
Morning light streams through the window of my bedroom, cascading over the walls covered with my paintings and onto my eyes. They creak open. It had not taken long for me to pass out after Christian and Ryan left me bedroom. Crying makes me so tired. But it wasn’t an easy sleep. I woke several times to the sound of people talking and dancing , loud music, and at one point, fireworks. All of which were supposedly for me. Of course that was not the case.
I can’t believe the way that I behaved last night. My long thin fingers cover my red, puffy eyes. I let out a loud groan.
“What is wrong with me?”
I roll over and pull the covers over my head. This is where I want to stay for rest of eternity. I remember how Christian and Ryan had been lying on the other side of me last night and how warm they felt on the bed. I close my eyes and pretend that they are still there, pressing against me. I pull the blankets back, and the cold, fresh air fills my nose.
I need to get up. I can’t mope all day.
I press my feet against the hardwood floor and throw my bathrobe over my naked body. The house sounds so silent compared to last night as I walk through it. I look at the tall clock hanging on the living room wall. It was still only nine. I wonder who spent the night. I continue walking quietly and step into the kitchen. Everything has already been cleaned up. Of course it has been; Mark hates messes. They drive him crazy. I open the fri
dge and pull out a vanilla yogurt.
I don’t use a spoon and suck the cold, creamy breakfast out of its plastic cup. I feel a little better now that something is sitting in my stomach. When I look out the front window in the kitchen, I see several cars parked in the driveway.
Everyone must still be sleeping. My dad’s parties usually went to early morning like four or five am. I don’t recognize any of the automobiles sitting patiently, waiting for their drivers to take them back home.
“You’re up?” I hear a groggy voice ask. I turn around to see Christian, standing shirtless. His large forearms are crossed of his muscular bare chest. I realize my robe is almost opened, and I slowly tie it shut. Those deep blue eyes glance down quickly then back up.
“I should be the one asking that,” I respond brushing my hair away from my face. He turns and opens the fridge.
“I passed out on the couch. Ryan and Vivanne took the guest bedroom. Wasn’t much room for a third party.”
I close my eyes. The idea of Ryan and Vivianne makes me sick.
“Could have slept in my room - “ the words tumble out, before I realize what I am saying out loud. He pauses and looks at me.