by Nella Tyler
“Welcome to my humble home, ladies,” Luke said, grinning at us. “Make yourselves at home, help yourselves to as much punch or beer or cocktails as you want—but I have to ask that if you’re going to be sick, you try and make it to either the bathroom or at least outside. It’s a lot easier to hose shit down outside than to try and clean it up inside. If any dudes bother you or try and make a scene, let me know and someone will handle it.”
“It sounds like you run your parties like a well-oiled machine,” Ashley said, and I could see the respect in her eyes for Lucas.
“I try,” Luke said, smiling again. “Of course sometimes things get out of hand, but this is my second year throwing parties here—I should have a pretty good handle on how to control a crowd by now, don’t you think?” I agreed and Ty clapped Luke on the shoulder, giving his friend a quick, manly hug before escorting me into the party itself.
Whoever Lucas had put in control of the sound system had good taste; he mixed Taylor Swift with The Strokes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs with Kesha, Ariana Grande with OK Go—and I was shocked that it all seemed to go really well together the way it appeared on the playlist. Ty found the kitchen and helped get drinks for Ashley and me. “I’d take it easy on the punch if I was you,” he told us, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t recommend having more than one glass of it unless you want to test the theory of whether you can make it to the bathroom on time.”
When I tasted the punch, though, it was delicious; but after I swallowed my first mouthful I could see what Ty meant. I couldn’t taste the alcohol in it, but I could feel the after-burn. It was definitely potent stuff, and if I wanted another drink—other than maybe water—after that, I was definitely going to just stick with a beer. As I sipped my punch and Ty worked on his beer, he led Ashley and me around the house, “working the room,” as he called it.
We ran into a few people we knew from classes and Ashley immediately got into a debate about something that had been covered in Economics, while Ty and I chatted with one of my classmates about one of the professors we had that Ty had had himself in freshman year, joking about how incredibly boring he was and how difficult it was to stay awake through the Art History lectures.
Ashley was fine with her friend from Econ, so Ty and I continued about our way; he showed me the backyard, where the pool was covered up for the winter. “In the spring, I hope we’re still going out,” Ty said, grinning at me slightly.
“Why’s that?” I looked up at him, trying to resist the urge to smile.
“Because Lucas throws the party of the semester one week before spring break, and I definitely want to see you in a bikini.”
“What if I’m all fat with the freshman fifteen by then?” I stuck my tongue out.
“Even then. Even fifteen pounds heavier you’d still rock a bikini like a fucking goddess,” Ty told me. He leaned in and kissed me on the lips. I could taste the beer on his tongue, the underlying sweetness of his mouth, for just a moment before he pulled back, letting his hand rest on the small of my back, at my hip. “Want to go inside and dance for a while?”
“Sure,” I said, straining my ears to catch the opening sounds of a Daft Punk song. “We need to check on Ashley too,” I reminded Ty. We’d agreed that we’d check up on each other throughout the night, mostly to make sure that no one was trying to carry Ashley off—at least not against her will.
We found her in the kitchen, still debating some point from economics; I was pretty sure she was going to spend almost the whole night there, until she either proved her point or one of the two of them passed out from exhaustion. “We’re going in to dance,” I told her. “If you get bored of saying the same things over and over and want to have some actual fun, you can come find us.” Ashley rolled her eyes.
“I’ll find you in fifteen,” she countered. Ty led me by the hand into the living room where the music was loudest; Lucas must have cleared out most of the furniture that normally sat in the room, because there were tons of people in the middle of the floor, dancing and drinking and having a good time.
Whoever was DJing the event switched to a slower song, one I didn’t recognize, but Ty let his hands fall to my hips and I draped my arms around his neck and we started slow dancing together, swaying to the beat, almost no space between us. I let my head rest on his shoulder, feeling so happy, so completely contented. I could barely believe my luck.
Ty was definitely right about the punch, so when I finished my first plastic cup of it, I decided it was going to be all of that particular drink that I would have that night; instead I switched up to water while Ty and I took a breather from the sweaty, humid, oven-hot dance floor, hanging out in the kitchen and listening to Ashley and her classmate debate some more. I let Ty walk me to the bathroom—to use the toilet, not to puke—and then I grabbed a beer and we were out in the living room once more, dancing as hard as we could.
Ashley finally joined us, picking one of Ty’s friends and dancing with him for a while, or “stealing” me from Ty for a few dances so we could dance together. I was having a better time than I had ever had at a party before in my life—really feeling like I was having a real college experience, like I was where I was supposed to be, in a way that I had never felt in any of my classes.
Ty and I took a break from dancing and decided to visit the backyard again; since it was chilly there weren’t very many people out there, and I was dripping with sweat from the living room dance party.
Ty found an empty lounge chair underneath one of the outdoor heaters Lucas had set up, and we sat talking, looking up at the stars, or discussing the other couples who had made their way outside for a little bit of privacy and a break from the noise. I didn’t know whether Ashley had found her way back into the kitchen or if she was still dancing with Ty’s friends, but I thought that based on how she had been when we’d left the room, she would be fine at least for a little while.
“Did you see that guy in the living room dressed in all lime green? He had to be at least seventy,” I told Ty, remembering the sight of the guy in question; he’d been really going for it, dancing to a Nelly song, looking completely oblivious to how strange it was to see an old man in a lime green suit dancing his ass off.
“Oh! Yeah, that’s Lester,” Ty said, nodding. “Luke, me, and a few of the other guys used to go to karaoke pretty regularly back in sophomore and junior year, and he was always there—always singing his heart out with like, Notorious BIG songs or Juvenile songs. So when Luke threw his first party here, we invited him.” Ty grinned. “It was kind of a joke and not a joke at the same time, you know? He’s never tried to lay a finger on any of the girls, he’s always good to drive at the end of the night, and he’s a good time.”
“Actually, that’s kind of cool,” I said, smiling. “I like that idea a lot. And hey—it’s not like there’s an age limit on who’s allowed to party, right?”
“Exactly,” Ty agreed. “So we invite him to all the parties, and he comes or he doesn’t, and he’s a good time.” He gave my waist a squeeze, pulling me closer to him on the chair.
“Is that your oh-so-subtle way of hinting you want to do more than just talk?” I looked up at Ty through my eyelashes and he grinned, nodding. I shifted closer to his body on the lounge chair, careful not to flash anyone—my dress was a little on the short side, even with my jacket draped over my legs—and I brought my lips up to his.
Ty deepened the kiss almost immediately, swiping his tongue against my lips and letting his hands wander a little bit over my body bit by bit. I moaned as softly as I could, opening my mouth and letting him in, and for what felt like maybe an hour we lay like that on the lounge chair, kissing and touching, teasing each other; we managed—I thought, at least—to keep it PG-13, not exactly groping each other or doing anything too lewd, but every moment I could feel myself getting more and more turned on, and after a while—I had no idea how long—I was sure that if we didn’t cool things off a bit, I would be slithering underneath Ty, begging him to take my panties o
ff under my dress and fuck me right there in the middle of the backyard.
I broke away from his lips and took a deep breath, shivering at how much colder I felt away from the heat of Ty’s body. “Are you okay?” I looked up into Ty’s gray-green eyes and laughed.
“I am awesome and miserable at the same time,” I told him, licking my lips. They still tasted like him, and I knew it wouldn’t be much longer before I found an excuse to make out with him again. “I am so freaking horny right now I almost wish I could have sex with you right here.” Ty chuckled.
“I think I have to draw the line at public sex,” he told me, nodding and pretending to scowl. “But if you want, we can go home soon and make out all you want—and once you’re in bed with me back at the dorms, we can have as much sex as you want, too.” I giggled, biting my bottom lip as I thought about that really tempting possibility.
“We should probably check with Ashley,” I pointed out. “I don’t want to either strand her here, or make her have to leave earlier than she wants to just because we’re getting all hot and heavy in the back yard.”
“That’s fair,” Ty agreed. “Let’s go inside and find her, and see what she thinks about how long she wants to stay. Sound good?” I nodded.
“Sounds great,” I said.
We managed to get out of the lounge chair we’d taken over and I smoothed my dress over my body, looking around to make sure no one was staring at us or laughing at us. Everyone else in the yard seemed to be pretty much completely involved with each other, lost to the rest of the world, so at least I didn’t have to feel embarrassed about my hot-and-heavy session with my boyfriend.
We went inside together and I saw that Ashley wasn’t in the kitchen. “She must be in the living room again,” I told Ty. He nodded and we made our way in that direction. I figured that we’d dance a little bit, sound Ashley out about her feelings on how the night was going, and make a decision about how much longer we would stay. Ty followed me into the packed living room and we started to dance together a little bit while we looked around, searching for my roommate.
But instead of finding Ashley amongst all the dancers, as I looked around, my gaze fell on my ex, Dillon. He was dancing with a girl I’d never met before, and he was pretty clearly—to me at least—more than a little trashed. I stopped short in my steps, staring at him. What the hell was Dillon doing at the party?
Chapter Six
I felt Nicole’s body language change in an instant and immediately looked around to try and figure out what the problem was. I wondered if maybe she’d seen someone doing something inappropriate with one of her friends, or something like that—but when I looked at what she was looking at, all I saw was a drunk-looking guy in a polo shirt and khakis dancing like a slob. Nicole turned her back on the sight and I could see she was really upset.
“What’s wrong?”
She looked up at me with slightly watery eyes and then looked around the room and shook her head. “Let’s go somewhere more private,” she said, her lips pressed almost up against my ear.
I nodded and took her hand, guiding her through the crowd of people dancing in the living room and through the entry of the house to the front porch; if there had only been a handful of people in the backyard, the front yard was absolutely deserted—there was a couple on the driveway talking about something in low, intense voices, but other than that we were alone.
“So what’s going on? What’s your problem with that guy?” Nicki bit her bottom lip and took a slow, deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. She exhaled sharply and then opened her eyes, looking up at me with a little more calm.
“That guy was my ex, Dillon,” she said slowly. “I…I think I just wasn’t expecting to see him probably ever again—definitely not at a party like this, or drunk, you know?” I nodded; I could understand all too well how something like that would make her feel.
“It’s always kind of a wrench in the night to run into an ex,” I said, leaning forward and kissing her on the cheek.
“It’s not just that,” Nicole said, shaking her head. “I just…it brought back everything about the end of the relationship, you know?” I glanced around and saw that Lucas had put in a bench swing.
“Want to sit down with me and we can talk about it? Do you want another beer or a water or anything?” Nicole considered my questions and shrugged, smoothing her skirt over her hips and sitting down. “Let me get you another beer. I feel like this is going to be a decent-length talk.”
She smiled weakly and I ducked back into the house, crossing the living room as quickly as I could. I spotted Ashley in the kitchen and told her that Nicole and I were on the front porch—and that we might be getting ready to leave soon. I didn’t know if Nicole would actually want to leave, but she didn’t look like she was the kind of upset that would make her want to spend the rest of the night at a party, trying to ignore her ex.
I came back out of the house and Nicole was still there, sitting on the porch swing and swinging slowly. I handed her one of the two beers I’d grabbed and took a sip of my own.
“So, tell me the story,” I suggested, reaching down to pat her knee in a way I hoped wasn’t condescending.
“So Dillon and I started dating in junior year of high school,” Nicole said. She took a sip of her beer. “At first, everything was great. He was great, it was fun and sweet and just…” she shrugged. “You know. Normal high school relationship.” I nodded.
“But obviously that part didn’t last,” I said. Nicole smiled wryly.
“It took a while for me to start seeing it,” Nicole explained, “but bit by bit it just started to seem like nothing I wanted was good enough—I wasn’t smart enough, or I wasn’t ambitious enough, or whatever enough for him.” She sighed. “And at first I started to try and be smarter, more ambitious, all the things he kept complaining about, because he was—I thought—this great guy, and I couldn’t afford to lose someone like that. And I thought that if I could just be what he wanted and needed me to be, that we’d be happy again like we were at the beginning.”
“But you did eventually wise up, right?” I smiled a little bit, meeting Nicole’s gaze. “I mean you kicked him to the curb, and here you are—smart, beautiful, talented, and with a guy who thinks you’re amazing.” Nicole’s weak smile became a little warmer and her eyes started to regain some of their sparkle.
“I did eventually tell him to get the hell out of my life,” she admitted. “I’d changed myself a lot to fit his expectations, and after a while I sort of realized that I was the one making all the changes, doing everything to suit him. Never once in the entire time we were dating was there something I wanted to have different actually change.” She shook her head again. “It was like everything had to be about him all the time, and eventually I had enough of it.”
Nicole sighed and looked down at her beer. She took a long drink of it and looked up at me again. “But it does kind of suck watching him drunkenly hit on girls.” She bit her bottom lip and I saw the color leap into her cheeks. “Not—not that I want to have anything to do with him anymore,” she said quickly. “Just because…I guess there’s a part of me that still feels bad about not being ‘good enough’ for him, so to see that he’s…” she shrugged.
“To see him hitting on girls like that makes you wonder if you’re worse than he said, or if he was right somehow,” I finished for her. “You’re not, and he wasn’t,” I told her firmly. “You are an amazing woman, and I’m already in love with you even after only knowing you for a couple of months.” Nicole smiled up at me, really smiled, and it almost took my breath away. “I have an idea,” I said, reaching out and finding her hand. I gave it a squeeze. “Let’s ditch the party. Before you say anything—we won’t go straight back to the dorms. There’s an eighteen-and-up club I know about downtown, and we can all go. It’ll be even better than this.”
“Eighteen-and-up?” she glanced at her beer. “What if they smell alcohol on me?” I shrugged.
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�They probably won’t, and even if they do they won’t care,” I said. “They’ll put a black X on your hand so you can’t buy alcohol at the bar, and we’ll just spend the rest of the night dancing and having a good time. Ashley can come with us too. It’ll be great.” Nicole licked her lips and considered it. She knocked back some more of her beer and smiled up at me.
“This is probably the last beer I should have for the night anyway,” she pointed out, glancing at the half-empty bottle. “Are you okay to drive?” I nodded.
“I’m still mostly sober—I’ve been sticking to just the beers, and only a couple of those over the past few hours,” I told her. “We’ll go to the club, dance until we drop, and then go back to the dorms and I will show you exactly how much I think you’re the most wonderful, special, amazing woman in the world—how about that?”
“I’ll have to check with Ashley, but it sounds awesome,” Nicole said. She took a quick breath and carefully climbed off of the porch swing, steadying herself as she adjusted to the lack of movement. “Did you see Ashley inside?”
“She was in the kitchen again when I got the beers,” I told Nicole. “I told her we were out here and that we might be thinking about leaving soon—since you looked so upset.” Nicole smiled. She leaned in and kissed me quickly on the lips.
“I’ll grab her and we’ll talk about this, and make a decision,” she said. I nodded and sat back on the porch swing, letting it sway back and forth in the slightly chilly air as I sipped my beer. It only took Nicole a few minutes to come back, and then there she was with Ashley in tow.
“How would you feel about hitting up an eighteen-and-up club?” Ashley shrugged, glancing at Nicole.
“Dillon somehow managed to find his way into the party,” Nicole told her roommate. “I just…ugh, seeing him trying to put the moves on other girls is so gross. I don’t want to deal with running into him and I don’t want to even have to think about talking to him, but I don’t want to just go back to the dorms either. What do you say?”