by Bria Leigh
“I told you I don’t want to go to this party. Why can’t we just rent movies and eat pizza?” He wiggled behind me, pressing himself into me and pulling me tighter.
“Parties are fun. I’ll show you how to do them right,” he held onto me.
“You have morning wood. And it’s pressing into my ass.”
“You have bedhead, and it’s poking me in the eye.” I swatted him, and he dug his fingers into my sides making me scream. He knew how much I hated when he tickled me, but he did it anyway.
“Will you act your age?”
“Not my shoe size?” He rolled his eyes. “My shoe size is almost my age. So, I guess it doesn’t matter.”
“I really don’t want to go to this party.” I rolled over, staring at the ceiling. I didn’t care if I ever fit in. I hated it here. I missed home, and I missed Wilder.
“What’s wrong?” He threw an arm behind his head and stared at the ceiling too. “You worried you’re going to run into Mac and cheese?”
“The only thing you’re proving by making fun of him is how immature you are when you don’t like something.”
“I don’t like Old Macdonald?” He sat up, climbing out of my bed before I could say anymore about it. He picked his jeans off the floor and shook them out.
“You have made fun of his name twice.”
“It’s a stupid name,” he insisted, slipping a leg into his jeans. “I’m not bothered, Vi. I just want you to get out of the house for once. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t hate this place so much.”
I doubted it. But I got dressed so we could find costumes for the dumb party. Nothing about any of it sounded fun to me. But I was going to appease Wilder.
I even made Wilder pancakes so he would stop whining about how hungry he was. And when I finished making a stack, I brought it over to the table and set them in front of him.
“Hurry up and eat so we can get this done,” I told him, taking the spot across from him.
“You didn’t get me a fork,” he said empty-handed. He gave me a sad face and then grinned.
I grabbed him a fork and sat back down. “So, what’s been going on with you?”
Wilder dropped his elbows on the table, digging into his pancakes. “Work. Party. Work. Party.”
I hated how content he was going nowhere in life. Just because he had a job didn’t mean he was doing things. And he knew how I felt about it. He was worth so much more than pounding nails into drywall and guzzling beers on the weekends.
“I saw my mom,” he said with a shrug.
“How did that go?”
He stabbed his pancake and brought it up to his mouth. “She asked about you,wanted to know how you’re doing.” He plunged the pancakes in his mouth and chewed, lost in thought.
“How’s Bing?” Wilder had a little brother. Just before his mother divorced his last stepfather knocked her up. She was in no way ready for more kids. She never was prepared for Wilder. It was the worst situation to put another human through.
“He’s twelve. He’s out riding his bike and skateboarding.” Another shrug.
“Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Keep it simple when it comes to them. You know you can tell me how things are going with your mom.” I watched him press a thumb against the metal of his fork, his expression darkening.
Kat interrupted our moment when she walked into the kitchen and went straight to the refrigerator. She pulled out some old pizza and dropped the whole box on the table, pulling up a chair.
“Nice pajamas,” Wilder said.
She looked down at her bra and boxers and grinned a little. “Thanks. Nice body.”
He looked down at his chest. “Thanks.”
They both continued to eat while I sat there feeling awkward.
“You going to the costume party?” Wilder asked.
Kat kept chewing. “Yeah. That’s why I’m eating leftover pizza.”
Wilder gave her a confused look. “Am I missing something?”
“Hangover. I am trying to get rid of this hangover before tonight.” She took another bite, and they went back and forth about hangover remedies. It was clear Kat liked Wilder and Wilder found her tolerable.
It didn’t matter who he met; he always found common ground and a way to become their pal. I, on the other hand, could never do that.
I busied myself with cleaning up the dishes while Kat told him all about her late-night drinking. And how she met up with friends at a café and watched people do slam poetry.
And Wilder told her all about the other night when he and his friends got wasted, and he ended up walking down the middle of the street alone.
“I didn’t even know where the hell I was,” he said.
I slammed the cupboard shut. “Are you ready to go?”
They both noticed my agitation. Neither of them seemed to care much. They acted like getting drunk and doing stupid things was so much fun. It wasn’t it was ridiculous. And I cared about my friend. I didn’t want anything terrible happening to him. I knew why he ended up wandering the street. He wasn’t fooling me.
Wilder stood up, grabbing his plate and walked it over to the sink. “You need to lighten up, Vi.” He turned around. “Is she always like this?”
Kat nodded, letting him know how uptight I was. She didn’t know anything about me. She had never even tried to get to know me. For months we lived together, and she didn’t even bother asking me one personal question about myself. But she could sit down with Wilder and tell him her entire life story.
She left us alone. And I frowned at him, annoyed with the way he acted.
“What’s your problem?” He leaned against the counter, waiting for me to say something. When I didn’t, he elbowed me in the side.
“I just don’t like it when you do that.”
“Do what? Get to know someone?”
I huffed, throwing the last of the dishes in the sink and headed for the Livingroom. I grabbed my shoes and put them on and headed for the door next.
“I still need to grab a shirt,” he told me.
I slammed the door and headed down the stairs. I needed some fresh air before I lashed out at Wilder for being friendly with my roommate.
“You look even cuter when you’re angry with me.” Wilder bounded down the stairs all set and ready to take on costume shopping.
“Stop it.” We started walking. “You know I worry about you. Right?”
“Yes. I know you worry about me, Vi,” Wilder agreed.
“So please don’t do that anymore.” Sometimes when Wilder got depressed, he went to a very dark place. And hearing him talking about wandering the streets—that was where he had been recently.
“I’m fine. I’m right here in one piece,” Wilder insisted.
“You know what? I am going to prove to you how stupid getting drunk every weekend is.” The idea came out of nowhere. But if I had to do something ridiculous to prove to my best friend how harmful drinking was when you were emotional, I would.
“You would have to drink to do that,” He laughed.
“I plan on it,” I laughed back.
Wilder’s expression fell a little slack. He didn’t like that idea. It was written all over him. It was one thing for him to be destructive; it was another for me to do it.
“Look, just don’t get crazy.”
I looked over at him. “Maybe I will. That’s what all the cool kids do, right?”
His jaw flexed. “Violet, you don’t know the first thing about being stupid. So don’t start now.”
Maybe I didn’t, but I was sure it wasn’t difficult. If he could pull it off week after week, I could do it once.
Violet
“IT’S BEEN ALMOST AN hour!” Wilder wrapped on the bathroom door. He banged again, and I put the lipstick down on the counter, staring at myself in the mirror.
We were about to head out to this costume party, and I was feeling sick to my stomach and not at all in a partying mood. But I pr
omised myself I would do it. I wanted to prove to Wilder that seeing your best friend act like an idiot wasn’t fun. Maybe he would realize how stupid he was being.
I opened the door and hurried past him before he could make me do a twirl or something.
“Holy shit, Vi.”
“Yeah, holy shit Violet,” Kat said too.
They both stared mouths open taking in my naughty schoolgirl outfit. Wilder was the football player, and Kat was the nun—of the slutty variety.
“She looks hot,” Kat told him, continuing to check me out. “Violet, I never knew how great your legs were.”
Wilder shook himself free of his stare long enough to agree with Kat. I went back to my room and spritzed my hair with a little aloe water to freshen my curls and studied myself in the mirror. I didn’t feel hot. I felt awkward.
When I looked in the mirror, I saw a sad little girl that didn’t fit in. The girl with the tan skin, too puffy hair, too quiet. Too everything.
“Quit overthinking.” Wilder came up behind me. “The only thing you should be thinking right now is how hot you are.”
I touched his arm, his hold on my shoulders, keeping me from running away from what I saw in the mirror. The guy behind me only saw all the good in me. I could see it in his eyes, the way they came to life when he was looking at me. He had enough confidence in me for both of us.
Kat came into the room carrying shots. “One for the road.”
Her eyes danced with excitement when I accepted her offering. We all threw our heads back at the same time. And I nearly threw up from the vodka.
“Holy shit, that’s nasty.” I made a face; the burning going on inside did not feel right. I had no idea how they managed to do this every weekend.
“It is, but it fucks you up,” she said.
Wilder agreed. “That’s why she’s only getting that one.” He took my shot glass from me and let Kat fill his up again. She filled her glass up, and they both nodded at each other before downing the next round without me.
I ignored his need to protect me and got my shoes out of the closet. I sat down and slipped the black heels on and stood back up. Now I was closer to Wilder’s face, it wasn’t much, but it made it easier to get lost amongst all that was him when we were about to be in a crowd of people. I wanted to prove I could stand my ground.
We locked up the apartment and headed the couple blocks closer to campus. We all laughed and joked around about Kat’s slutty nun outfit and my even sluttier school girl outfit. And Kat made sure to let Wilder know how hot he was as a football player. She wasn’t wrong. He looked good in the tight-fitting blue pants and the white and blue jersey.
“How you feeling, Vi?” he asked, checking on me when we were standing in front of the frat house. I kept my eyes on the streamers and the sign welcoming everyone.
“I’m a little warm,” I suggested pushing my hair off my shoulders.
“You’ll be fine,” Wilder insisted, looking me over. He linked his fingers with mine and pulled me through the crowd of party-goers. And we climbed the stairs and slipped through the doors with no problem at all.
The number of people jammed into a space no bigger than maybe our entire apartment—that wasn’t impressive. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of bad cologne and alcohol.
Wild parties weren’t my thing—but I wanted Wilder to see that I could be fun. I wanted to let loose. Not be the insecure girl I was every day.
Not only was I getting out of my shell, but my roommate was also talking to me and hanging out. She wasn’t shooting me daggers from across the room. She was smiling and enjoying my company for once. I liked feeling welcome.
Kat disappeared in the crowd to score our drinks, and Wilder stayed right by my side. When the beat kicked up, he started moving to the music. Every girl around noticed—who wouldn’t notice him? He was handsome, charming and had a killer smile—when he cared to show it. And right now, he was showing it.
“Come on, Vi. You got to dance with me,” he kept moving, doing these weird hand gestures and head nods. It didn’t matter how he danced; everything he did was attractive.
“Fine,” I moved along to the beat, practicing what my cousin taught me the only time I met her. She took me out for the night, and we ended up at a house full of college kids. That night she taught me the dancing basics. She said I wasn’t half bad either. It was a great night. But when my mom found out what she’d been up to, she refused to ever let me around her again. That was the last time I got to know my father’s side of the family.
I lost myself in the moment, swinging my hips and letting Wilder throw me around the dance floor. We were having a good time like nobody else was there.
The music changed, and people started slow dancing—some very inappropriately. I gave Wilder a look. He gave me one back, and we both looked around the room for Kat.
“We should go out on the porch. It’s really hot in here,” I yelled over the music. Wilder agreed and grabbed my hand, pulling me through the crowd.
I was grateful for the fresh air. I lifted my hair and fanned my neck. “It is miserable in there. I am so hot. God, I wish I brought my hair tie.”
A girl nearby offered up hers, and I took it. “Thank you so much.”
“No problem. I think you might be in one of my classes.” She looked from me to Wilder. “But I don’t think I know who you are.”
I threw my head forward, running my hand through my hair, fighting to get it all together so I could pull it up.
“I don’t go to school here. I’m just visiting, Vi.”
“So, you two are a thing?” Of course, she wanted to know that. She was probably only being nice to me because she wanted to fuck my best friend.
She was gorgeous. A little blonde with killer blue eyes and a pouty smile to match. Wilder noticed too because he was right next to her, ready for more conversation.
“We should do a shot,” she told him, her hand sliding up his chest.
He looked at me. “Let’s do some shots, Vi.”
I shook my head. “I’ll just wait out here.”
He thought about leaving for less than a blink of an eye. “I’ll be right back.” He let the blonde bombshell walk him right back into the party and away from me.
It bothered me, and I hated that it did. But I was upset. It didn’t take but two shots for Wilder to think with his dick. Now I was standing all alone on the porch of a house I had never been to before.
“I never expected to see you here.” I heard Mac’s voice, and sure enough at the bottom of the stairs, there he was. I couldn’t fight the smile that erupted on my face. At least there was one more person at the party I knew besides Wilder and Kat.
I waved and headed down the stairs, pleased to have a reason not to stand around looking like a loser. “You look awesome.”
He tapped his hard hat and smirked. “I came for the drinks. I figured this was enough of a statement.”
“Oh, you for sure, pulled it off,” I promised him—Light jeans with paint all over them, a white t-shirt, and a hard hat. It worked.
“Want a beer?” He offered the one in his grip, and I took it, struggling to get the cap off of it. He took it back and did it for me.
“Thanks.” I had half of it finished before we landed on the dreaded conversation about the kiss.
“Look. I would have never kissed you if I thought you weren’t into it.” He waved a hand, regretting what he said. “Shit. I don’t mean it like that. I mean, I wouldn’t have even attempted it if I didn’t get the vibe we were getting along. Normally I’m pretty good at reading girls.”
“You weren’t wrong,” I offered. “I was just in a weird place.”
He nodded. The relief was loosening him up finally. “Your outfit is...” The appreciation laced in his words. “Really fucking hot.”
I smirked. “Thanks, Mac.”
“Cheers,” we clinked glasses, and he laughed when my beer started rising to the top. I hurried to finish it off, the last ha
lf now a prisoner in my gut.
“Let’s get another one,” I told him, catching sight of Wilder inside with the blonde grinding against his crotch. His hands all over her. His face a little redder, and his shirt gone.
The crowd closed back up, ending my front-row seat to his newest sexual encounter.
“Yeah, let’s go.” Mac agreed, following behind me up the stairs. I grabbed his hand the same way Wilder had mine so he wouldn’t get lost in the crowd, and he held on tight. His hand wasn’t protective and strong like Wilder’s. It was just a hand.
But it didn’t matter because Wilder could make out with some random blonde right in the middle of my college costume party knowing I was right there.
Mac handed me a shot. I threw my head back and grabbed another one, and did it again. My insides shook with agitation. They wanted what I forced in back out, and I wasn’t about to let that happen. I grabbed a beer out of one of the coolers and cracked that open taking a couple of sips trying to stop the liquor from coming back up.
I got it together and stumbled forward, ping-ponging off sweaty bodies, and grabbed hold of Mac’s shirt. I went in for the kiss planting my lips against his. He obliged grabbing the back of my head, our tongues crashing together.
It wasn’t awful. It was better than the feeling I felt when I had to look at Wilder shoving his tongue down someone else’s throat. It took away that dagger lodged in my chest.
When we broke apart, I released my grip on his shirt and headed for the door. I didn’t feel good anymore. I felt confused.
Confused and drunk.
Maybe it was all in my head. Wilder was perfectly content only being my best friend.
Wilder
SHIT.
I opened up my eyes and stared at the glaringly white ceiling. My head felt like someone rammed an ax in it sideways. Where the fuck was I?
I sat up, looking around the room. I wasn’t in Violet’s apartment.
I lifted the sheet off my legs and winced at the sight of my dick. Who the hell did I end up sleeping with? And where was my phone? Where was Violet?
The door thudded open just as I was pulling up my boxer briefs. And the blonde I hardly remembered from last night came shuffling in the room with coffees.