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He looked away when I thrust my chest out, some girl standing next to him said something and he focused all of his attention on her.
While I stood there and stewed, furious.
Jealous.
I hate when I feel like this.
I didn’t bother retaliating though. There are no boys here that I want to talk to. Despite Ellie pointing out a good-looking one every time she found one, and yeah, I can’t deny that there are a lot of attractive guys here tonight, I’m just not interested. The last thing I want is someone new. I don’t even want to flirt or hook-up, none of it.
I just want to be by myself for a little while.
Ellie dressed up as a cowgirl too, and Jackson dressed as a cowboy—wearing leather pants. They’re tight and more than a little ridiculous but somehow Jackson can pull them off so I don’t say anything as the three of us take endless photos together at the beginning of the party. I just smile and stand at his side, silently admitting he doesn’t look half bad in them.
Caleb’s in a pimp costume and Gracie is dressed as a police officer. She keeps slapping the fake handcuffs on him and pretending she’s going to haul him out to her police car. At one point, they were nowhere to be found for about a half hour, and I wondered if they hooked up in her car.
Probably.
There are a lot of creative costumes, though most of the females are wearing a sexy variation of something. A lot of the guys didn’t even bother dressing up, including Eli.
The spoilsport.
The house is decorated perfectly. Dark and spooky with scary music playing in the background and a fog machine pumping out scented fog into the game room, filling it with mist. Most of the regular lightbulbs have been replaced with black ones, so everything is dim and dark.
It’s a total mood.
I wish I was in a better one, so I could really enjoy this.
Jackson had the party catered and the food is to die for, but I’m not that hungry. I nibble on a few appetizers. Drink one too many witches’ brew cocktails. Make conversation with the girls. Let Gracie and Hayden introduce me to some of their friends, women I’ve never met before who are a little older than me and seem so put together. They talk about their careers, their futures and their boyfriends. One of them is engaged. Another is trying to get pregnant because she doesn’t want to be an old mom, preferring to be a young, cool mom.
Direct quote.
I just nod and smile, feeling as if I have nothing in common with any of them, though I don’t dislike them. Not at all. I just feel very young and inexperienced. Even Ellie can hold her own, chatting with them about her life with Jackson and how much she’s traveled. I don’t bother mentioning my dad is a retired NFL star and that we traveled the world when I was young. Most trips I don’t really remember because I was just a kid and I didn’t appreciate what we were doing.
That’s not my story to tell. It’s my parents’. All I’ve ever done is gone to college for a couple of years and participated in a study abroad program in Spain. I learned a lot during my time there. I went to quite a few cities and explored the country. I enjoyed spending time with my host family and I interned with an established textile company, learning the ins and outs of the family-run business, all while working on my conversational Spanish. It was a great experience.
But it’s kid stuff compared to these women and what they do. I’ve done nothing special. I let myself get wrapped up in a relationship with a man who was doing far more interesting things than me. Does that make me pathetic?
I’m starting to think it does.
Or maybe those are my own insecurities bringing me down.
I drown my disappointment in myself with more Halloween-themed cocktails, this time sipping on a witches’ heart. It’s purple and red and the cute bartender served it to me in a martini glass. I don’t bother telling him I’m underage—another pitiful detail about me—and I take another one, my head spinning as I feel the alcohol coursing through my veins, warming me from the inside.
“Ava.”
I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear my name, the drink sloshing from the glass as I whip around to find Ellie watching me with concern filling her dark gaze. I smile and raise my glass in a toast to her, right before I take a sip.
“Are you okay?” she asks me.
I shake my head. “Never better.”
Her frown deepens. “What’s wrong?” She takes a step closer, her voice lowering as she reaches out and grabs my free hand. “Did Eli say something to you?”
“No, he’s been ignoring me all night.” I say the last few words so loud, more than a few people swivel their heads in my direction. “Ellie, do you think I’m enough?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Me. Am I enough? Or am I a pathetic little girl who’s accomplished nothing in her life and never will?” I’m on the verge of tears. I can literally feel them trembling beneath my eyeballs, so I squeeze them shut, willing them not to fall. Once they do, the waterworks show will be officially on and I won’t be able to stop it.
