“Worse.” Tina leans around me. “What do you have to drink around here? I think Scarlett needs a head start.”
Caroline shakes her head. “Nothing. I drank the rest of the wine during my Gossip Girl marathon.”
No wonder she had so much trouble getting out of bed yesterday.
“No worries. We’ll get a drink in her hand within thirty seconds of hitting the door. Although, if we give it sixty seconds, two guys will be fighting over who’s going to get her a drink first.”
Caroline slips on her coat and pulls her hair out and over her collar. “She’ll never be able to handle that without a buzz. Our first mission is to get her a drink as quickly as possible before she scares all the guys away.”
Tina nods her agreement with the plan.
I’m nervous enough, but all this talk about guys is making me want to vomit. “I think I changed my mind. Besides we’re late. It’s almost nine-thirty, and it started at eight.”
Caroline lowers her face to mine. She’s four inches taller than me in her stiletto boots. “Scarlett, that’s what people do when they go to parties. They’re supposed to show up late. It’s expected.” She enunciates her words slowly as though she’s explaining this to a small child.
“That makes absolutely no sense.” My dread increases.
“Oh, no you don’t! No changing your mind.” Tina loops her arm around mine and drags me to the door. “Quick, let’s get her outside and lock the door before she goes and hides in her closet.”
Caroline pushes me outside onto the landing and turns around to lock up. “You know her so well already.”
“I used to be her.”
Caroline and I turn to her, our mouths gaping. “You’re kidding?” Caroline asks. “You mean there’s hope for her yet?”
“Yep, but we don’t have a moment to spare. Drinking, dancing, and boy shenaniganery are the prescription. Stat.”
They both take one of my arms, and we walk the two blocks from our apartment complex to the house that’s hosting the party. I ask myself for the hundredth time why I agreed to go. I attribute it to Tina and Caroline wearing me down with their badgering, but if I’m honest with myself, part of it is because of Tucker. Whether he knows it or not, he’s made me aware of things about myself, things I don’t necessarily like. I’m smart enough to know that if I’m going to change things, I need to alter my behavior, but suddenly this party seems like too much, too soon.
“No cold feet, Scarlett.” Caroline tugs on my arm.
We’re standing at the curb in front of the house. The house is brightly lit and we can hear the heavy bass all the way out here on the street.
“Just give me a moment.” I gulp deep breaths of air. The air is nippy, and my breath comes out in wispy white clouds.
Caroline leans into my ear. “Scar, it’ll be fine. I promise. Just give it a chance.”
I’m suddenly reminded of a party I went to during my senior year of high school. It turned out to be a disaster. The boy who took me did so as a joke. There was a bet to see if he could nail the geeky math girl that night.
My heart pounds out of control.
Caroline squeezes my arm. She knows about my history, even that. “Do you think I’d bring you here if I thought you’d get hurt? Just try to relax and have fun. If it gets too much, we’ll go home. Okay?”
I nod. She’s right, and I know she won’t let me get into a situation where I feel completely out of control.
The house is packed, and I’m bombarded by noise and chaos. Tina is on one side of me and Caroline is on the other. They’re both shrugging off their coats as we walk. True to her word, Tina leads me to a table, and a guy hands her a bottle. She thrusts it into my hand. “Here. Drink.”
I’m smart enough to know that alcohol isn’t the answer to my problems, but I’m wise enough to accept it as a crutch. I take a sip and nearly choke. “God, this is awful.” The last time I had beer was in high school, and I’d been hoping that I remembered the taste incorrectly.
“You’ll get used to it. Drink.” Tina pushes the bottle to my mouth and tilts it up. I take several swigs before I push it away.
“Slow down,” Caroline says. “She rarely drinks. We want her buzzed, not drunk.”
“True.”
I take several more sips as Tina gets a bottle and Caroline scans the room.
The guy handing us drinks smiles. “You can put your coats in the spare room, the first door on the left.” He eyes me up and down. “I don’t think I’ve met you before.”
Tina steps between us. “Kyle, this is Scarlett. Scarlett, Kyle. It’s her first time to one of your parties.”
He grins. “Then, welcome. I’m really glad you came. It’s usually BYOB, but Tina knows she’s always welcome to whatever I have. You two are included.”
I unbutton my coat and slide it down my arms. Anything to avoid having to talk to Kyle. I’m so awkward in these situations, and my awkwardness makes me even more uncomfortable. Talk about a vicious cycle.
He reaches toward me. “Here. I’ll take that for you as long as you let me get you a drink later.”
I nod and reluctantly accept. “Okay.”
After he takes our coats, Tina turns to me and squeals. “I told you you’d be here less than a minute before a guy hits on you.”
“He wasn’t hitting on me.” Yet I know he was. I just can’t admit it to Tina, let alone myself. The all-too-familiar wariness I live with pokes me with its spiky barbs. I take another sip of the beer. Tina was right, you do get used to the taste.
We push our way into the crowd. Some couples are dancing, others are making out. Other people line the walls and bend their heads together in conversation. I stand next to the wall with Scarlett, feeling the alcohol loosen the knot in my shoulders.
“Can I get you another drink?”
My head jerks up, and I’m staring into the face of a guy who’s smiling. Not a leering smile, a friendly smile. I wave my bottle at him. “I already have one.”
His smile turns to a teasing grin. His eyes dart down then back up to my face. “Do you?”
When I look down, I see the bottle is empty. “I guess I don’t.”
His eyebrow lifts slightly, and a mischievous challenge flickers in his eyes. “So can I get you that drink?”
Normally, I’d be wary, but he seems nice, and the beer has lowered my defenses. “Yeah.”
He holds up his hand and pats the air as his other takes my empty bottle from my hand. “Wait here. Don’t go anywhere.”
I laugh. “Okay.” I look away, my nerves pinging because I talked to a guy. And even more so because he’s coming back.
Caroline waggles her eyebrows at me.
“What do I do now?” My stomach tightens. What have I gotten myself into?
“Scarlett, relax. Talk to him. Dance with him. Have fun.”
I nod. Talk. Dance. Have fun.
Her mouth puckers, and she rolls her eyes. “Stop taking notes.”
She knows me too well.
He returns less than a minute later, two beer bottles in his hand. I study him as he makes his way through the crowd. I’d guess him to be less than six feet tall, average build. His hair is dark brown and he has chocolate brown eyes. I stop when I realize I’m categorizing him like I would the results of an experiment in chemistry class. The thought makes me giggle.
Caroline’s eyes widen then scrunch in bewilderment. Stop that, she mouths.
When he reaches me, he hands me a bottle. “I’m Daniel, by the way.”
“Scarlett.”
His gaze studies me, and I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks. The beer has tempered my usual reaction, but not killed it entirely. I turn and watch the people in the room.
Caroline is now talking with a guy I recognize from my Arabic class, but I notice she’s hanging close to me, listening in on our conversation.
Daniel leans down toward my ear. “Scarlett, do you go to Southern?”
The front door opens, and
a gust of cold air floods the room, bringing with it a rowdy group of boys. None of them wear coats, and two of the guys are carrying cases of beer. They spill into the house, literally. A blond guy almost falls on his face before one of his friends grabs his arm. He jumps up and shouts, “That’s what fast feet will do for ya!”
Tucker.
The room laughs, and he feeds off the attention, becoming more animated. “I need a fucking beer!” Then he disappears into the kitchen.
I’m not sure why, but his behavior disappoints me. I have no right to own this feeling, yet it’s there anyway, chewing at the lining of my stomach.
Daniel is looking down at me, waiting for my answer.
“Um, yeah. I go to Southern.” I cast another glance to the kitchen, then back to Daniel.
Daniel’s gaze follows where mine went. “Do you know him?”
“I tutor him.”
“Lucky you.” His tone is dry.
Tutoring Tucker has been a challenge, but not how I foresaw it. He’s been receptive during our two sessions and dedicated to learning the material. But nonetheless, my life feels like it’s been upended. I’ve never questioned my life and my choices more than since I’ve started working with him. Unintentionally, Tucker’s the main reason I’m here tonight. He’s made me wonder if my life can have more, even if the definition of more remains elusive.
I don’t want to discuss Tucker with Daniel or anyone else. “Do you go to Southern?”
His smile returns, and it occurs to me that he thought I might be interested in Tucker. “Guilty as charged. I’m a business major. And you?”
I square my shoulders, waiting for the shock and surprise. “Math.”
His eyebrows rise, but his smile remains. “Education?”
“No, advanced mathematics.”
The derision I’m used to seeing is absent. He whistles and shakes his head in an appreciative manner. “I bow to your greatness. I have to say I’m impressed.”
I give him a smile. “Thank you.”
“What are your career plans with that? NASA?” I’m used to people who jokingly ask me if I want to be a rocket scientist, but Daniel’s question is genuine.
“Actually, no. The CIA.” I sip my beer and wait for his response.
“And here I thought my goal of ending up with the most successful small business in Western Tennessee was high.” He clicks his bottle to mine. “Here’s to lofty career goals, and may we both find what we are looking for.” He takes a drink while watching me with a smile.
My chest warms and for the first time in ages, it’s not from stress or embarrassment. I genuinely like this guy.
Tucker stumbles out of the kitchen with a beer in his hand, then disappears into a back room. Several girls trail after him.
Daniel waves his bottle toward the hall. “So how’d you get stuck with him?”
Two days ago, my answer would have been riddled with irritation over the situation. Tonight, my irritation stems from some irrational desire to defend him. The question is, why? Tucker’s behavior isn’t helping his flailing reputation.
I sigh. “It’s a long story involving a mathematics computer program.”
Daniel smirks. “Ah, funding.”
I love that he gets it.
We talk for the next hour while Caroline works the crowd. Tina is dancing with Kyle. The house is getting crowded, and it’s harder to talk at a normal level.
Daniel sees me watching Tina. “Would you like to dance?”
I don’t want to dance with him, but it’s not because I don’t like him. It’s because I’m uncomfortable getting up and dancing in front of people. I consider telling him no, but stop and smile. I’m here tonight because I’m trying to change. What’s the worst that could happen? I stumble or I look like a fool? But everyone is caught up in their own conversations, and I can’t look much worse than the guy across the room who’s shaking around like he’s having a seizure. No one’s even looking at him, let alone making fun of him. So I smile and nod, unable to say the word yes. A nod will have to suffice.
He doesn’t question the nod, pulling the empty bottle from my hand and setting it on a table with his own. His hand reaches out to me and he’s smiling, but his eyes have turned more serious.
Swallowing, I slowly reach my hand to his. My heart warms when his fingers close around mine as he stands, pulling me up with him. He leads me to the middle of the room and wraps his arms around my back. My hands, now hanging awkwardly at my side, search the front of his shirt for a comfortable place to rest.
He smiles down at me as we begin to sway to a slow song.
I glance around the room to see if anyone is watching me. I find myself counting out the beats of the music under my breath.
His eyebrow hitches. “Let me guess. You played piano.”
“How’d you know?”
“Easy guess. First, music is math. And second”—a grin spreads across his face—“you’re tapping the rhythm on my chest with your fingers as though you’re playing piano.”
I close my eyes and cringe. “Sorry.” For the first time tonight, I feel embarrassed and uncomfortable, which fills me with disappointment. I’ve enjoyed spending time with him.
His finger gently lifts my chin so that I’m looking into his brown eyes. “Don’t be sorry. I think it’s cute. Do you still play?”
The reminder of the piano floods me with sadness. My elementary school music teacher saw an untapped talent in me in the second grade and not only gave me free piano lessons when she realized my mother would never pay for them, but also let me stay after school every day to practice on the music room instrument. Once I moved onto middle school, I no longer had access to a piano. I give him a sad smile. “No.”
His mouth lowers, his breath fanning my face as he hesitates, his lips hovering over mine.
I tilt my head slightly up, and he accepts my invitation and presses a soft kiss against my lower lip.
Part of me worries that I’m rushing things. I’ve only just met him, yet I’m kissing him in a room full of people I don’t know. But another part of me welcomes it. I like him. His lips are soft and warm, coaxing mine to kiss him back.
His head raises, and he looks down at me and smiles, then pulls my cheek to his chest and we continue to dance.
I close my eyes and think about what just happened. Obviously, I’ve been drinking, which explains how I got to this place—kissing a boy in front of a roomful of strangers. The kiss itself was nice, and I have to say Daniel’s technique is superior to the last guy who kissed me over a year ago. Nevertheless, I squelch the disappointment building in my stomach. I’ve always heard of fireworks and butterflies, but never felt them. Not once in the handful of men I’ve dated. I thought my nerves were supposed to tingle and parts of me where supposed to burn with desire. This guy holding his arms around me is very attractive and treats me with respect. What more could a girl want?
So why do I feel nothing?
What the hell is wrong with me?
I bite my lip and force the tears that burn my eyes to dry. I refuse to cry over something so stupid. Fireworks and butterflies are hormones. Long-term relationships are built on hard work and dedication. It doesn’t take a genius to see which lasts longer.
Sucking in a deep breath, I force myself to accept the truth: Butterflies are for lust-driven teens. Real relationships are based on mutual respect. Which would I rather base a relationship on? I know the answer deep in my heart, but it doesn’t stop the wish that I could have both.
Wishing for more always leads to heartache. There is no happily ever after. There’s only here and now.
So why do I still want it?
Chapter Five
Daniel and I continue to dance through several songs until one of his friends taps his shoulder.
“Dude, we’re out of here. It’s time to go.”
Daniel’s arm is still draped across my lower back, but he takes a step backward, conflict skirting across his face.
His friend heads to the door. “Bailey! Let’s go!”
I smile up at Daniel. “It’s okay. Thanks for the dance. And everything.” My face burns at the thought of our kiss.
He looks around then back to me. “We just met and I don’t want to leave you.”
“I’m about to leave with my friends.” I point to Tina, who is making out with Kyle. And Caroline, who is talking to two guys in the corner, obviously drunk by the amount of laughter floating from her group.
His eyes darken. “I want to see you again, Scarlett.”
I feel a twinge of nerves flutter in my stomach. This has to be a good sign. “I’d like that, Daniel Bailey.”
“See? You already know my last name, and I don’t know yours. Give me your phone so I can put in my number.”
I hold my hands out apologetically. Since Tina and Caroline and I are all together, none of us saw a reason to bring our phones. “Sorry. I don’t have my phone.”
His friend pokes his head around the corner. “Bailey!”
Daniel takes a step backward, snatching my hand in his. “At least give me your last name.”
“Goodwin. Scarlett Goodwin.”
He tugs me to him and kisses me with a sweetness that steals my breath. “Thanks for…tonight.” He grins before he steps backward, dropping my hand. “Bye.”
Daniel darts out the door, but leans around the edge of the door once more, a grin on his face.
Still smiling after he disappears, I’m flushed, but it’s not from nerves or embarrassment. This feeling is from the anticipation of seeing him again. Even though I didn’t give him my number or any way to find me, I have no doubt that he will. Daniel seems resourceful.
This a good sign, right? This feeling of excitement? This quivering inside? Maybe, just maybe, I am capable of feeling something. Maybe I’m not dead inside.
Without Daniel, the room suddenly seems too loud and too warm. I head toward the kitchen to get a glass of water. A group of rowdy guys crowds around the table playing beer pong. They don’t notice me as I pick up an empty red cup and move to the sink, letting the water run before I fill it. My gaze drifts out the window to the house next door, which is currently under renovation, based on the Dumpster parked in the driveway. I’m about to turn away when someone catches my eyes, his hand slamming into the metal sides.
After Math Page 4