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14
6 years ago
This is why I don’t like parties. I bit my tongue and attempted to hide behind the large red Solo cup filled with fruit punch. I stared over the lip of the cup at a group of friends. We sat in a tight circle, six girls, five boys, and Lucas Hobbs, my best friend, who deserved to be in a class by himself.
A more perfect boy didn’t exist anywhere on the planet. I had discovered that fact for myself over the last nine years living next door to him. He was the only reason I was at this stupid party to begin with. I’d much rather be biking with him on the Osprey Mountains. I’d rather be sitting on my porch, melting in the sun with him than being here.
Meghan Trainor’s warning words of “No” streamed in the background, totally ignored by me as the only thing in the room that held my focus, besides Lucas, was the empty eight-inch Coca-Cola bottle.
“Finally.” Brad Livingston, the host of this impromptu party, pumped his fist in the air and nodded in my direction. Brad was one of the popular boys in school. The type every guy wanted to be best friends with, and every girl wanted to be on his arm. Nearly every girl. Brad had been chasing after me all semester. He hadn’t formally asked me out because he expected girls to fall at his feet. But he had dropped enough hints: I’m thinking of catching a movie this weekend, you interested? Do you like Twenty One Pilots? I have an extra ticket to their sold out concert. I never took the bait. I was more than willing to wait for the right boy to ask me out at the right time.
Brad sat directly across from me. A position that wasn’t fated. The minute I pushed into the circle, dragged by my girlfriends, he changed his position in the circle—his house, his rules. Hence the reason we were playing a stupid game of seven minutes in heaven, also known as spin the bottle.
Three couples had already disappeared into the closet. The pattern repeated—door shut, whispers, giggles followed by silence inside. Laughter and inappropriate remarks outside. A knock, a rustle of movement, snickers from everyone, and then back to the circle. I knew the rules and had avoided this game all my life.
But the stupid combination of high school senior-year and an uncertain future brought me to Brad Livingston’s house. That and, of course, Lucas.
My heart raced as I reached for the bottle. Lucas sat to my right; a position of support that made it scientifically impossible for us to be linked. Anyone but Brad, I whispered to myself.
A firm hand landed on my wrist. I didn’t need to look down to know who it belonged to. “Nothing happens here you don’t want.” Lucas reminded me why he had a permanent place in my heart. His next words were directed at the group. “If anyone has a problem with that…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Everyone in our school—heck, everyone in the city of Mesa—knew how protective Lucas was of me. “I got you,” were his final words before I worked up the nerve to spin.
I held my breath and willed the laws of science to shift. They didn’t. That green-tinted bottle slowed and came to a stop just as Brad had planned, pointing directly at him. I gulped and lowered my chin, avoiding the devilish glare from our host.
A heavy breath escaped my lungs, a bout of dizziness passing as I gasped.
“Not going to happen.” I flicked my head up at the sound of my BND barking. He stood, taking me by my hand and pulling me up. “Not today. Not ever.” His words were directed at the circle.
Nine sets of shocked eyes looked up at us and one very pissed-off set belonging to Brad. “Hey, caveman, that’s not how the game’s played.” Brad hopped to his feet but kept his distance. “She sat in the circle; she knows the rules. Seven minutes in the closet.”
I could hear the threat in Brad’s tone. If we left, he’d blacklist us from every party and social function for the rest of the year. It was our senior year, and that meant a lot of parties.
Lucas turned to me; his hand soft in mine. “Your call. But we both know what you want, and this isn’t it.” He was right. But there wasn’t any other option. Not one that would spare me from being sidelined for graduation season.
“Lady’s choice?” The weak question slipped out my lips, the get-out-of-jail clause of this silly game. Any person had an option if they wished to ignore the selection of the bottle and pick another person—a rule Amy had created because she had just started dating Eric and refused to kiss another boy.
I watched Brad’s shoulders sag, my selection a surprise to no one. “Lucas.”
I ignored the cries of Shocker from the group and pushed down the rapidly forming blush on my face as Lucas led us to the closet.
It really was a closet. A pantry closet. Shelves stocked with canned goods, rice, flour, and a hundred other items in the tight space. A hastily thrown blanket sat on the cramped floor. I slipped down to the cool tile as Lucas stepped around me and lit the candle sitting on the lowest shelf. The door shut behind us, and Lucas flicked off the light, and I thought for a second to ask him how many times he’d done this.
Instead, I asked him the more pressing question on my mind. “Why did you…”
“Because…” he started and stopped. “Because I know Brad isn’t the guy you would want in here with you.”
“It’s just a game. A silly game that would be over in seven minutes.”
Lucas rested his hands on my bare knee. My heart skipped at the intimacy of this moment. “Seven minutes that would change our future.”
“Our?”
“Yes, ours.” The hesitation was gone. This was the man who owned my heart. The rare teenage boy who spoke without hesitation, who shared with me his innermost thoughts—who hid nothing from me. “What happens to you happens to me. Don’t you know that by now? We are and always will be connected. I was not going sit out there for seven minutes and allow our future to slip away.”
“It would take a lot more than seven minutes to change our future,” I joked, needing the humor to lighten the mood. Being this close to him, with the candle lights and his hand on my knees, had me thinking of things best friends shouldn’t think of.
“You don’t really believe that?” he asked, his tone making me question myself.
“How is that possible?” I answered with a question of my own.
