AllFreeNovel
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Nineteen
I’m kind of in a funk, which happens sometimes when I’m doing a lot of work on the computer, but I have a ton of footage to sort through after spending five hours with Ant and her friends while they bowled and played pool. By the end of my editing, I’m having to constantly remind myself of what I’m working on, the headset footage or the documentary. I think the Blackout party—a big bonfire in the woods with lots of music, dancing, and strobe lights—might be just the thing to help break me out of this funk, but, at the same time, I don’t want to force myself to be social. Don’t want to put a smile on my face when my eyes sting from too much artificial light.
But... between the contest, the documentary, and the headset footage, I’ve been spending a lot of time separated from my friends.
I save my file, add a copy to my external hard drive, and then reluctantly start putting together an outfit for the party. I’m sure I’ll feel fine once I get there. It’s just one of those things where the dread of doing the activity is much worse than the actualactivity. Like putting on a bra just for the sole purpose of going to Neato Burrito for takeout.
Despite the chill, I throw on a black dress with sheer black tights and black ankle boots and, I don’t know, maybe I’m overkilling it with all the black, so I line my mouth in red to balance it out.
Bagel rockets into my room from the hallway and leaps onto the stool by my bed and then onto the mattress to bark once at my window.
Okay, so that’s, like, not terrifying at all.
“What’s wrong with you?” I glance out the window, but it’s after eight o’clock and the pitch-black darkness stares back at me.
He barks once more and then rolls onto his side, exposing his belly to the window, like a little bitch recognizing his alpha. Something hits the glass and I jump, my heart hammering in my chest. Holden stands outside my window, a smirk on his face and his elbow against the window.
“Can you give me a hand? Both of mine are full.” He shifts to show me a six-pack of alcoholic root beer and a pizza box.
I unlock the window and push it up, but stop him when he tries to hand me the items, my heart racing a little. “What are you doing here?” I could probably use my mom’s anti-fun health agenda to stop whatever is happening right now.
He looks between the drinks and food. “Delivery?”
“I’m going out.” I resist the urge to immediately let him in, even though I used to do just that when we were kids. How would Corrine feel if she knew her ex-boyfriend was sneaking through my window with beer? It wouldn’t even matterthat he wasn’t invited. Wouldn’t matter that Heart Emoji Logan Heart Emoji would be at Blackout tonight to distract her. “To a party.”
“But I’m bringing a party to you.”
I accept the pizza and lay it on my bed next to Bagel. “A lot of help you are,” I mumble at him, poking him in the stomach.
Holden climbs into my bedroom, his long legs getting tangled in my curtains. “I remember this being much easier when I was smaller.”
“That’s because it was.” I take the drinks from him so he can free himself. “Again, what are you doing here?”
“Ta-da!” He stands straight, flailing his arms out. “Oh, come on. You didn’t actually want to go to Blackout. The people. The anxiety of the cops showing up at any moment to bust it. The noise, the smoke, finding a ride there and back. It’s just a hassle and you hate people.”
“And what are you, if not people?”
“A goddamn delight.”
“What exactly was your plan here?” I watch him take off his jacket, revealing a tight, plain white T-shirt that definitely got the memo about his arms that I hadn’t prior to seeing him at the gym. He slings the jacket over my chair and faces me.
“Hang out. I didn’t want to go to the party either.” He flops onto my bed and finally gives Bagel what he wants by petting him. “Who’s my good boy, Bagel? Yes, it’s you. Bagel Boy. My little Bagel Boy, Seamus. Shame-shame.” He lets Bagel lick his cheek.
“Okay, this has to stop if we’re going to have a conversation.” I pick Bagel up and place him outside my room, shuttingthe door on his pathetic and adorable face. “Taj was busy?”
“Taj is at the party with Nita.”
I smile grimly. “Love your honesty when it comes to my second-best status.”
“My twelve-year-old sister also had plans.”
I point to the window. “Get out.”
He grins, reaching for the pizza box with little effort. He opens it and the smell of melted cheese fills the room. “I come with gifts and you’re going to kick me out?”
It only takes a second for me to recognize the additional smell of “The Devil’s Dinner,” what my mother calls a supreme pizza, because creativity has never been her thing. I haven’t had it since before my grandma died because my mom, on the off chance she’s down for pizza, only likes cheese—even when I remind her it has vegetables!
I got my terrible taste in food from my grandma, if we’re being totally honest.
