by Ann Garner
“I think I liked you more when you weren't as mouthy,” she mutters, but she pulls her cell phone out of her pocket and shoots a quick text to Grant. It doesn't take long for his reply to come back.
She reads it as we step out of the building.
Fraternity row is located on the opposite side of campus so we head in that direction. It’s a line of craftsman style houses that spans the length of about three city blocks. I honestly couldn't name a single fraternity or sorority house we have on campus. They seemed to be made up entirely of the types of guys and girls I had gone out of my way to avoid in high school.
“Is he coming?”
“Yeah.” She finishes a text to him and then shoves her phone back into her pocket. “I would have survived a night without him.”
“I know.”
“He was over at Cole and Holden's place so he'll just meet us there.”
Huh. I hadn't thought about the possibly of Cole coming with him. Or maybe I had and I didn’t want to admit it.
I can hear the music from the party before we can see the first fraternity house. It's so loud I can’t make out the words, but it doesn't seem to be bothering anyone. It looks like the majority of the party-goers are outside. The entire street seems full of them. There are guys, and girls, in various states of what I'm assuming they think is luau attire. I'm pretty sure that grass skirts weren't meant to be worn in the way some of them are being worn.
We have to show our college ID to a couple of guys who have a small card table set up at the top of the street. They take a quick peak at them, and then mark big black X’s on our hands. I'm assuming that because we’re underage, but I spot several other people with the same mark on hands that they are using to hold cans of beer.
Within seconds of us leaving the check-in table someone is shoving cans of beer in our hands. I try to shake my head that I don't want it, but Grace leans over to me. “Just hold it; you don't have to actually drink it.”
“Gotcha.”
She grabs my free hand and leads me through the crowd of people to a semi clear spot in the middle of the street. I see that the reason the music is so loud is that they have a live band set up. There's a crowd of people dancing in front of the stage.
As Grace starts to lead us over to the crowd, her hips already swaying with the music, I feel the tension starting to seep into my body the closer we get to the crowd of people. I suck in a deep breath as she pulls me through the people and finds a spot several people deep for us.
She spins around to face me and still holding my hand, the sway of her hips increases.
It takes me several long moments before I can put my calming technique to use. I start at the top, and work my way down. It’s hard to concentrate on releasing the tension out of my body when I can feel the crush of people all around me. Every time someone brushes up against me I feel myself tense again so I have to start all over.
We are three songs in before Grant finds us. He slips up behind Grace and immediately picks up the sway of her hips and matches it with his own. I watch them for a moment before I reach out and touch Grace's arm to let her know that I'm going to get out of the crowd. She nods her head.
I do my best to avoid physical contact as I weave through the crowd, and draw in a grateful breath when I step out of the dance pit and back into the open street. The can of beer I'm holding has started to sweat so I switch it to my other hand and wipe the condensation on my shorts.
“Hey there, gorgeous.”
Chapter Eight
It takes me half a second to realize they mean me. I glance up and find a trio of guys standing in front of me in board shorts, with multiple brightly colored plastic leis around their necks. One of them is wearing a straw hat. All three of them are studying me in a way that instantly makes me uncomfortable. I cross my arms over my chest and shift uneasily on my feet.
“I'm Mark.” The guy with the straw hat says, taking a step closer to me. “This is Scott and Chris.” He points to his friends, but I don't let my gaze stray from him. Now I wish I had stayed in the damn crowd of people. He takes another step towards me.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
I lift my hand with the beer in it. “I'm good.”
I tell myself to be calm. There's a crowd of people around us so the chance of anything happening is slim. But I know how easily a person can be led away, and I know I'm about three seconds from a full on panic attack as he takes yet another step towards me.
He's standing directly in front of me now with a drunken smile on his face. I can smell the beer on his breath, and for just a second I think its whiskey. I sway just a little as the smell triggers that corner of my mind I desperately try to ignore.
When I close my eyes, I’m no longer standing in the crowed street of fraternity row. I’m huddled in the corner of the tiny room I’d been held in, listening for any sound that indicated my own personal monster was coming back again.
Not that it mattered; I wouldn’t be able to escape him. There was nowhere for me to go, nothing for me to do but cry and pray that it would all be over soon.
“Want to get laid?” I snap back to the moment as he touches one hand to the leis around his neck, and reaches out the other hand towards me. I take an instinctive step back while forcing myself to breathe.
I let my eyes slide to the left and right, looking for the best possible way to get out of this without causing a scene.
Which means running screaming in the opposite direction is probably not a good idea.
I don't think I have enough air in my lungs to scream anyway. Fear and panic is sucking the air out of me, and I can actually hear the short gasps of air I'm managing to take in.
“Mark, hey man, how you doing?”
I gasp in a breath of air as Cole comes to stand behind me. He places one hand on the small of my back, and the warmth of it instantly seeps through my thin shirt.
“Cole, what's up man? I haven't seen you at one of these parties in a long time.”
They move in some half hug, half handshake move that I've seen several of the guys on campus do, but Cole never moves his other hand off my lower back. When he pulls away from Mark he looks to the guys standing behind him and nods his head to them in greeting.
“Yeah, it's not really my thing,” he says as his gaze cuts back to Mark, “but my sister’s here so I thought I'd come keep an eye on her.”
“Oh, yeah? This your sister?” Mark indicates me with his head.
“No.” Cole smiles. “This is Delaney.” He doesn't indicate what our relationship is, but he leans a little closer to me, allowing Mark and his friends to draw their own conclusions. I draw in the smell of peppermint, and I can feel the heat of his breath on my neck he's standing so close. I don't know why both of these things make me feel better, but I feel the beat of my heart start to slow and some of the panic edge away.
“Right.” Mark draws the word out, looking between the two of us. “Well, it was good seeing you again, Cole. Tell Holden I said hey.”
“Sure thing. Y'all have fun.”
Mark and his friends wander off, and Cole steps in front of me. I feel him move, but now that the panic is fading, the entire situation has left me embarrassed so I don't look up at him.
“You alright, Del?”
When I don't answer, because honestly, I don't think I can without breaking out in tears, Cole tips my chin up with one hand so my eyes are forced to meet his. The concern swimming in those navy blue eyes is nearly my undoing. To prevent myself from making even more of a fool of myself I take a step back, breaking the contact between us.
“Yes,” I draw in a deep breath and tell myself to get it together. “Yes, I'm alright, thank you. I just don't do well in..”
“Social situations,” Cole finishes for me. “I know, Grace told me.” He watches me for a few moments. “If that's the case, why in the hell did you come here? This is about as social as it gets.”
A guy wearing a coconut bra and a grass skirt runs screaming past us.
“I don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time.” I give a weak smile. “You know, in the safety of my dorm room.”
He just shakes his head. “Here, give me that beer before you crush the can and cut yourself.”
I glance down. I had forgotten I was holding the can. My fingers are so tightly wound around it that they are turning white, and I have to force them to open so I can let go. Cole takes the beer and tosses it in a nearby trash can. “Let's get you some water.”
“That would be great.”
Before I know what's happening he's grabbed my hand and is leading me through the crowd. His palm is rough against mine, and my entire hand seems to disappear in his. I almost trip on the curb as he leads me up and towards one of the houses, because all I can seem to look at is our hands locked together.
“Careful,” he calls over his shoulder. People greet him as we pass, but he seems to barely acknowledge them. Within minutes he has us in one of the frat houses. He winds through the rooms obviously looking for someone.
“Hey, Trent.” I hear him call. “Hey, my sisters roommate is getting a little overheated; can I borrow your room for a bit so she can cool down?”
His statement is met with catcalls and whistles and I know my cheeks turn pink at the implication. He takes it all in stride, waiting for Trent to answer. I feel his body jerk as he reaches up to catch the keys that Trent throws at him. “Thanks man.”
The whistles start again as we make our way up the stairs, but Cole doesn't even slow down. He leads me down a hallway until he comes to the last door, which he uses the key to unlock. “Grab a seat.”
There’s only a full size bed and a small sitting chair. I opt for the sitting chair. I don't think my frazzled nerves can take to much more.
Cole goes over to the closet and opens the door. There’s a mini fridge hidden inside, which he pulls a bottle of water from. He crosses back and sits on the end of the bed, directly in front of me. Twisting off the cap on the water bottle he hands it to me. I know he sees my hands shake as I reach out to grab it.
“Jesus, Del, you're white as a ghost.”
He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees, watching me take several gulps of the water.
“Where is Grace?”
I blink. He sounds angry. “Oh, uh, Grant showed up and the two of them were dancing.” I shrug my shoulders. “I just wanted to get out of the crowd of people for a minute.”
I bring the bottle of water back to my lips. I’m not thirsty anymore, but it gives me something to do.
“Thank you.” I finally say. “For helping me out. I just.. He surprised me.” I finish lamely. I make myself laugh and then wince at how forced it sounds.
“You were terrified.”
“Oh, no,” I insist. “I told you no one’s ever hit on me before. It just surprised me. That's all.”
I meet his gaze head on now, trying to look more confident than I feel.
“The guys in Oregon must be fucking morons,” he finally mutters. He runs his hand through his hair, and I watch the curls dance and shift and am surprised to find that I want to run my hands through them. I lean forward a little in the chair.
“So, uh, you don't like these parties?” I ask hesitantly.
Cole turns his gaze back to me. “I don't mind a drink every now and then, but drinking just to get wasted and laid, which is pretty much the purpose of these parties, has never been my idea of a good time. If I'm going to hook up with a girl, I don't need alcohol to make it happen.”
“Oh.” I set the empty water bottle on the floor and twist my hands together in my lap. “So you came to check on Grace?”
There’s something in his eyes, and I'm pretty sure I know what it is, and it should terrify me. But it doesn't.
And that terrifies me.
“No.”
My tongue slips out to lick my suddenly dry lips and his eyes follow the movement. “Oh.” I know how lame I sound, but I can't help but wonder why he was there if he hated the parties and didn't come to check on Grace.
Had he been looking for me?
But why would he?
I had turned him down; he was seeing Red Nail Polish Beth.
Wasn't he?
The chair creaks as I shift a little closer to the edge. With the way we’re both sitting there's barely a foot of space between us.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
“You already said that,” he replies softly. His eyes haven't left my mouth and for the first time in four years, I'm wondering what it would be like to have someone kiss me.
No, I think, not someone.
It has to be Cole.
I feel myself sway just a little closer to him. There are mere inches between us now. He could easily lean forward to kiss me, and for a second I think he's going to, and I think I'm going to let him. I lean forward just a little more, just enough, I hope, to let him know what I’m looking for.
Abruptly he pulls back.
I blink in surprise and jerk upright in the chair. I know I'm blushing again because I'm embarrassed. I feel the heat race up my neck and over my face. Had he not felt what I had?
“We should go find Grace.” He stands up quickly, shoving his hands in the pockets of the shorts he’s wearing.
“She's probably looking for you.”
Chapter Nine
I skip U.S. History on Monday. Then again on Wednesday. I hide in the safety of my dorm room, thankful that Grace also has a class during this time, and I call the professor and tell him I have the flu.
I'm so far ahead in the class it isn't going to make a difference that I skip the classes, and thankfully my professor realizes this and tells me not to come on Friday either. He doesn't want to risk anyone else getting sick, he says.
Works for me.
I know it will only be worse when I show up on Monday because Cole will know I was avoiding him but I can't think about that right now. I’ve nearly bitten my tongue in half to keep from asking Grace about him, and she hasn't mentioned him at all since the frat party.
He'd been right about Grace looking for me. I had missed several phone calls and texts both from her and from Grant. The moment we found them Cole said he had something he had to do and left. He hadn't spoken another word to me the entire time we'd been together after leaving the frat house.
So Friday morning, when I should be sitting with Cole and Robby in class, I'm instead sitting on my bed reading a book when the door bangs open. I look up in surprise as Grace bounds into the room.
“Shouldn't you be in class?” I ask.
She raises an eyebrow in response. “I could say the same about you.” She steps further into the room, dropping her bag on the floor and collapsing on her bed. She’s staring at me, and her eyes are squinted as if she's looking for something unusual. I self-consciously run a hand over my hair, which I’ve put in a lose braid to keep off my neck.
“Do I have something on my face?”
“No. I'm looking for some mortal wound.” She watches me for another minute before kicking her shoes off and pulling her legs up to cross them under her on the bed.
“So,” she says, “imagine my surprise when I'm sitting in my English lit class this morning, minding my own business, doodling hearts on my paper instead of actual notes, and in comes Cole.”
Oh God.
“Now, I know for a fact that Cole has a class at the same time I do, and that it's all the way across campus. How do I know this? Because my roommate has the exact same class as he does.”