Party Boy Love Story

by Grace Wilkinson

  Brandon smirked, "well, you two have fun."

  Why was he being so weird? Was he just being the 'older brother'?

  I turned towards Dylan, "this is not as fun as I expected it to be."

  Dylan looked around the room before grabbing another glass of champagne, "here," He said handing one to me.

  I took a long sip.

  "Let's dance." Dylan said, grabbing me and walking me over to the dance floor.

  I was terrible at dancing and I knew that I couldn't dance like I usually did at a wedding.

  Dylan placed his hand on the arch of my back and pulled me closer to him, a slow song came on and we swayed back and forth.

  He leaned into my ear, "too bad we can't do what we usually do."

  I smirked, trying not to laugh, "My father would kill us, literally."

  Dylan genuinely laughed, which took me by surprise since this night wasn't as good as I expected it to be.

  "I need to get some fresh air." Dylan stopped, "come out the back with me?"

  I nodded, grabbing his hand and leading him towards a door in the corner of the room that lead outside.

  We stood in a lit alley, garbage bins surrounding us. Dylan leaned against a brick wall and took a deep breath. You could see his breath in the cold air.

  "We can leave soon if you want." I said, standing in the middle of the alley, kicking pebbles with my heels.

  "That sounds fine."

  Dylan and I stood in silence for a few minutes, my teeth began to chatter. It was cold tonight.

  I was about to tell him we should go back inside but there was a bunch of shouting and laughing coming from the street.

  Dylan turned and squinted his eyes. "Who is that?"

  Someone started to run towards the door, "Max?"

  Dylan walked over to me, "shit," He mumbled, "he must have seen the invitation!"

  I furrowed my eyebrows, "where did you leave it?"

  "By the door."

  I ran my hands through my hair, "they weren't invited!"

  "Hey!" Max shouted, holding a bottle of Champagne in the air.

  Dylan and I walked over towards the door.

  "Party's here!" He shouted.

  Fuck.

  Chapter 40

  I looked at the people among the crowd behind Max. Natasha, Jasmine, and Ethan stood in the crowd. Along with a few faces I didn't recognize.

  "You guys can't go in." Dylan stepped forwards, taking charge.

  Max scoffed. "What happened to you, Clarke? You used to go crazy when we told you there was a party and now you're a bigger goody-goody then she is."

  I furrowed my eyebrows and walked towards Max. "I may not like the party scene so much, but at least I’m going somewhere in life."

  Max clenched his jaws and a few gasps could be heard from the group.

  "Just let us in what's the big deal?-" Max was interrupted by Brandon standing in the doorway.

  "Emily? What's going on?" Brandon asked, one of his hands resting on the door as he looked around at everyone in the crowd.

  "Who the fuck is this?" Max asked, pointing towards Brandon.

  Brandon furrowed his eyebrows, holding up his free hand. "Who, the question is who the hell are all of you?"

  "We're here for the party!" someone shouted.

  Brandon looked down at me in disgust, "You invited them?"

  I shook my head. "No! They found the invitation and just came."

  Brandon shook his head. "Let's go, guys. I’ll take you all to the thirtieth floor. There are things there that will keep you entertained.

  Everyone filed inside and I lost Dylan in the crowd of people, Max stayed behind opening the champagne bottom. We awkwardly walked behind everyone else. I was trying to get to the elevator as fast as I could but the doors shut right after Max and I made it into the lobby.

  "Shit." I mumbled, continuously pressing the button as if the elevator would come back down and rescue me from Max.

  I turned to see him smirking at me. "What?" I frowned.

  He tilted his head and bit his lip. "That dress looks good on you."

  I wanted to grab a blanket and hide myself at his words. I was extremely uncomfortable.

  "If you weren't dating Clarke," He inhaled sharply through his teeth before looking me from head to two.

  The elevator doors opened to reveal an empty cart. I stepped inside, pressing the button and hoping the doors would close before Max could step inside.

  To my luck, he walked in and I pressed the thirtieth floor button. I stood in the corner as he stood awfully close.

  "Why are you so awkward around me?" he asked, staring at the glass ceiling.

  I looked at him as if he was crazy. "Maybe because you and Natasha drugged me and you tried to get in my pants."

  Max laughed, "I was drunk."

  "That's not what I heard," I said, "You were looking for someone to hook up with and apparently I was your pick that night."

  Max smirked, taking a long swig of the champagne.

  "Exactly what I’m doing tonight." The smirk still plastered on his face as he turned towards me and pinned me against the elevator wall.

  I tried to push him away but he inched closer and closer, pinning my hands on either side of my face.

  "Stop." I grit my teeth.

  "Come on, Emm. You lost your virginity. You shouldn't be scared anymore."

  I shook my head. "I don't want you to touch me."

  He softly laughed before pressing his lips to mine. I tried to pull away but my head was pushing against the wall. I shut my eyes and tried to squirm out of his grip but it was no use. I stood there completely helpless as the elevator doors slid open.

  I opened my eyes and saw Dylan staring at awe.

  "What the fuck!" he yelled, rushing into the elevator and pushing Max off of me.

  "Relax," Max held his hands in the air as Dylan took deep heavy breaths.

  "Stop trying to take advantage of her, Max!" Dylan shouted, shoving him in the elevator.

  He fell to the floor and Dylan collapsed on top of him, immediately throwing punches. One hit to Max's nose, another to his lip, another connecting to his jaw. I jumped in and tried to separate them.

  Max hit Dylan at one point, causing blood to ooze from his nostril.

  "Stop, Dylan! You're going to kill him!" I shout, the elevator doors are still open as Brandon and a few other guys come running over.

  "Dylan!" Brandon shouts, grabbing Dylan's shirt and pulling him off of Max.

  Dylan wiped the blood from his nose as Brandon and the two boys that ran over held him back.

  "Don't touch her again." Dylan grit his teeth as Natasha and Jasmine stepped in and helped Max off the floor.

  Hotel security stepped in and handcuffed Dylan.

  "Let's go." One security guard commanded, "We’re taking you to the police station."

  "I'm going with." I jumped in and began to walk with them but Brandon grabbed ahold of my arm.

  "No." He grabbed ahold of my right arm. "You stay here."

  I shook Brandon's hand away. “Why?"

  "Because," he sighed before continuing, "It's your father's wedding and you don't need to spend the night in jail."

  I looked over towards Dylan, sympathetically.

  "It's fine." he whispered, "I'll call you on the pay phone when I get there."

  I nodded.

  By now, Brandon and I were the only ones left in the hallway.

  He ran a hand through his hair and collapsed onto the ground. "You okay?"

  I nodded.

  "What did Dylan mean when he said Max has taken advantage of you?"

  I hated talking or even thinking about the subject but it was too late. I couldn't hide it from Brandon anymore, he already knew too much, "Max drugged me and tried to hook up with me. I was unconscious and pinned down but Dylan came and stopped them, thankfully."

  Brandon shook his head. "I know how college is. Trust me, I’ve only been out for a few years, but this is so
messed up. Max is messed up."

  I nodded and finally the tears came. I don't know why exactly. I was so overwhelmed. I realized I never had a chance to let anything go. I kept so much locked inside and never just let it out before. Maybe I was crying because my father had finally moved on from my mother and there was no way they were getting back together, or maybe it was because Max scared me half to death.

  "Emily, I’m taking you home." Brandon said, pulling out his keys.

  I violently shook my head. "You can't."

  "Why not?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

  I looked down at the floor. "Because I hate my roommate right now."

  He sighed, standing up then holding a hand out for me. "Then I’ll take you home with me," he began, pressing the button to the elevator.

  "To my place."

  Chapter 41

  I walked out of the lobby with Brandon. Hopefully nobody would realize we left.

  "I have a guest bedroom, you can sleep in there." he said, pulling out his keys as we walked across the street towards his Range Rover.

  I saw the faint lights of the police car and I immediately saw Dylan from afar. Max had joined them. Dylan was sitting in the back seat as the officers asked him questions. His hair was disheveled and dried blood coated the skin around his nostrils. Max looked in worse condition, blood coating his skin as he held a rag to his nose. His hair was a mess and his shirt was unbuttoned.

  "Emily." Brandon said, guiding me to the passenger seat of the car, "Let him be, Max and him are in trouble."

  I clenched my fists as he opened the passenger door for me and walked across the car towards the driver’s seat.

  I knew Brandon would never make a move on me but something about staying at his place over night made me feel uncomfortable.

  The drive was silent, other than the faint sound of music from the radio. When we arrived to a different building, he parked his Range Rover in an underground parking lot.

  "I live in the penthouse," he stated as we stood in front of the elevator. He pressed the top floor and we stood in silence.

  "Emily?" Brandon finally spoke and I turned towards him.

  "Yes?"

  "Are you really okay?" he spoke, his voice shaking, "I mean, after what Max did a few months back I don't think you would ever be the same."

  I looked up at the lights on the ceiling of the elevator. "I'm not."

  The doors opened and we walked to a mahogany door as Brandon pulled out his keys.

  "Come in, you can take a shower and we can talk about it. Okay?" He gave me a caring smile and pressed a hand to my bare back.

  I nodded, "I don't have a change of clothes, though."

  Brandon bit his lip. "I could give you a t-shirt and a pair of boxers?"

  I shrugged. "That's fine."

  "The bathroom is upstairs." He pointed towards the spiral staircase as he walked over to the kitchen. The whole penthouse was modern and had an open layout.

  I slipped off my heels and continued up the stairs, I wobbled slightly. The champagne must be getting to me.

  I walked down the hallway and found the bathroom. I stripped down and turned the shower head on. I locked the door and stepped under the steaming water. My muscles relaxed and I shut my eyes as I ran my hands through my wet hair.

  I grabbed the shampoo and lathered my hair with that and the conditioner. I quickly washed my face and my body.

  Once I was finished, I stepped out and grabbed a huge, soft towel off the rack and wrapped it around my body.

  I looked around for my clothes and cursed under my breath when I realized I didn't get the clothes from Brandon yet.

  I poked my head through the door and shouted his name, "Brandon!"

  No answer.

  "Brandon! I need clothes."

  Still no answer.

  I groaned before stepping out from the bathroom and walking down the staircase. Brandon stood in the kitchen holding a cup of coffee. He quickly turned around when he saw the state I was in.

  "Jesus, Emily." he said, his back turned to me.

  "I was calling you. You didn't answer. I had no choice."

  "Go in my room, everything you need is in my dresser."

  I nodded and ran back up the stairs. I roamed down the dark hallway until I reached his room. The room had only dark colors. Parker bed spread, dark wood furniture and white accents.

  I walked over to the dresser and pulled open the first drawer. I pulled out a pair of grey Calvin Klein's and a white v-neck, dropping my towel and slipping them on. I looked up at the mirror on top of the dresser and couldn't help but catch myself staring at the frames of the photos. A few were with his mother and a few were with college friends. I was about to turn around and head back downstairs when I saw a collage of him and a girl.

  Leah.

  My jaw dropped as I grabbed the photo, taking a closer look.

  She looked happy, so did he. The background was filled with palm trees and I could make out a beach behind them.

  One photo was of them smiling at the camera, another was them kissing and the third was of Brandon making a stupid face and Leah laughing.

  I didn't know whether to be sad or surprised. Leah actually looked like a nice girl instead of the bitch she actually was. I held the frame and ran down the stairs. Brandon still stood in the kitchen as he flipped through the channels on the TV in the living room.

  "Are you dressed?" He shielded his eyes.

  "Yes." I answered. He looked down towards the frame in my grip.

  "What do you have there?" He pointed towards the frame as he took a sip from his coffee cup.

  "You know Leah?" I ask, walking over to him and holding the frame up.

  He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I did."

  "What do you mean you did?"

  "She's my ex. We broke up because she wasn't who I thought she was."

  A flood of relief swept over me and I lay the frame down on the granite counter.

  "Why do you ask?" he says, leaning forward on the counter towards me. His shoulders were wide and the first few buttons on his dress shirt were unbuttoned.

  Why was I staring?

  I blinked. "This is Dylan's ex. She's the one that got me arrested."

  He furrowed his eyebrows, "I can believe that. But, if you think about, she didn't necessarily get you arrested. You were the one that made the decision to go with them to that zoo."

  I tilted my head to the side. He did have a point. I made the decision to break into an abandoned zoo and smoke with Dylan, Natasha and Leah but, then again, Leah could have turned herself in with me instead of running away with Dylan and Natasha.

  I shook the thoughts from my head and changed the subject, "What did she do to you?"

  Brandon scoffed, "Where do I start."

  I sat silently at the island stool as Brandon fiddled with his thumbs before speaking, "She used me."

  I furrowed my eyebrows but stayed silent.

  "I treated her like a princess and she only cared for the luxury she was receiving, not the love."

  I shook my head. "She'd a gold digger."

  Brandon smirked. "You think I don't know that?"

  I smiled.

  "So about this Max thing."

  Oh god, back on this subject now.

  I straightened my back as I sat.

  "You're okay, right?" he asked again.

  I shrugged. "I just get very nervous around him thinking of what he is capable of."

  "What he did to you was wrong." Brandon ran a hand through his hair.

  "What I don't get is that he had to drug me. He couldn't have just asked me straight forward."

  Brandon shook his head.

  "When he touched me in the elevator, I thought it would happen again, but this time he would succeed."

  Brandon reached across the island and grabbed ahold of my hand, "I wouldn't let that happen. Get some rest, looks like you need it."

  I got up from the island and we exchanged goodnight
s before I disappeared upstairs. I made my way to the guest room and retrieved my phone from the bathroom.

  I had two missed calls from an unknown number.

  Shit, I had completely forgotten about Dylan calling me.

  I quickly called his cell.

  He answered on the second ring.

  "Where are you?" He asked, sternly.

  "I-I'm at my brothers place." I answered, my voice coming out small.

  "I'm picking you up." he ordered, I was confused.

  "How? You're at the police station."

  "They let me go, Natasha picked me up."

  I felt my heart skip a beat. Natasha picked him up? I thought they were fighting. The idea of her being in the car with him began to make me think Jasmine was also with them.

  "You can't pick me up." I say, my voice shaking.

  Brandon walked past me in the hall, and stopped in the doorway.

  "Why not, Emily?" Dylan sounded confused.

  "Because." I responded curtly.

  Brandon walked over to the side of the bed. He was in his pajamas and was running a towel through his damp hair. He must have just gotten out of the shower.

  "Emily, seriously tell me the address!" Dylan shouted.

  "I'm sorry. I just need to sleep. I need a tiny break from all this drama. I don't want to see Natasha or Jasmine or anyone from our college."

  "Not even me?" he sounded hurt.

  "I do want to see you, so bad. But, I just need a night alone with my thoughts."

  "Emm, if this is about what Max did he's still at the station."

  I felt heat coursed through my veins. Max was still in jail? Did Dylan snitch?

  "Why?"

  "I told, Emily."

  What?

  "I told the police that Max sexually harassed you, twice."

  I felt my heart sink.

  Chapter 42

  "Dylan! Why would you do that you just made everything worse." I thought of everything I would have to go through if the police thought this was a serious matter.

  "Relax, I didn't tell them about the first time in full detail. I just said he made a move on you and you didn't feel comfortable."

  I sighed with relief. Even though I did want to give Max revenge for what he did, I just wanted to put all of this behind me.