AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He pulls back to stare at me. That probably wasn’t the most subtle way to mention his slip earlier. I’m so awkward. It feels like he’s studying my face for the answer I want to hear. “I wouldn’t know,” is what he lands on. Well, that didn’t go as planned, not that I had a solid plan. Clearly. Way to ruin the moment, Maci.
Before I can maneuver out of this conversation, he adds, “I haven’t had anyone important enough to bring home. Yet.”
“Oh, okay.” I feel defeated before he adds “yet,” but I’m still unsure.
“Maci.”
“Yes?” I break eye contact, looking to the strings of my hoodie as I tug on them.
His hand leaves my hip and reaches to tip my chin until my gaze meets his. “Do you want to ask about whatever it is you actually want to know?” The way he locks his eyes onto mine and runs his fingers through my hair fills me with more hope than maybe I should have.
“I don’t want to sound crazy.” My eyes shift across his face as I try to read his reaction.
“If I thought you were crazy, I wouldn’t be here.” There isn't any judgment or amusement in his voice.
“It kind of felt like you almost introduced me as your girlfriend earlier.” The words come out slowly, but then I panic and quickly add, “But that’s crazy because we hardly know each other, right? I must have misheard, I’m sorry. Just forget I said anything. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“Are you finished?” He looks amused now.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“You’re not crazy.” His smirk drops and he hesitates before adding, “But I don’t want to mislead you about it. I’m not sure why I almost said that. I can’t put a label on this right now.”
“Okaaay?” I draw out mostly in hesitation, partially in confusion. I’m not sure what to say next.
He evades elaborating on the girlfriend thing. “But there isn’t anyone else I’m spending my extra time with.” He says it like he knows I need reassurance. “It’s just you.”
“Okay.” I repeat my previous response but smile at him this time, satisfied with his level of commitment for now, and choosing to push any other thoughts to the back of my mind. I didn’t expect him to want to be my boyfriend yet anyway.
He leans in to kiss me on the forehead. When he pulls back, he slides his hand into mine, but waits for my lead on what happens next. Exhilaration runs through me when I imagine him in my bed. Keeping my eyes on him, I slide out from between him and my fridge and tug him toward my room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
DeanistravelinginCentral America for the next week with his family, which obviously makes me jealous. But stronger than my pull to the world right now, is my pull to him. It’s devastatingly painful and very annoying. This version of myself is overwhelming. There’s no room left in my brain with how much it's flooded with thoughts of Dean.
We hung out twice between the football game and when he left. I’ve been taking initiative and asking him to hang out first like Avery suggested. I think I was just in my head about it, especially considering the way he keeps saying yes and can’t keep his hands off me when we are together. I contemplated asking what prompted him to clarify he didn’t want a label, but my intuition told me not to, and not just because it’s only been a few weeks. I can sense something I don’t understand holds him back, but he’s definitely been more open the past few times we’ve hung out. I’m glad I don’t have to worry about him seeing anyone else, and it sounds like he’s busy. The other day he told me he was taking an extra class this quarter because he wants to do more than the minimum requirements for foreign language. It makes sense. We are required to take two years to graduate but it’s not enough to be fluent. If you’re going to go that far, you might as well make it worth it. I’d consider it if my ability to retain a second language was a skill I had at all. Even if you’re good at it, I know how much work it is, so it makes sense why Dean has seemed busy and distracted.
He left the night before last, and they don’t have service where they are going, so I’m impatiently waiting to hear about his trip. It doesn’t help that it’s Thanksgiving weekend. Usually, I’d go to my parents, but they extended the trip they are currently on in Europe. I’d be sad, but I get to talk to them every few days about their adventures. I’m happy for them because after both teaching for thirty years, they’ve been able to take a few off to travel. I hope I’m like my parents someday. I do miss them, but at least Miller’s parents invited me over for their Thanksgiving dinner yesterday, and they are like family too. The food was amazing.
My phone vibrates, snapping me back to reality.
Kylie:Put on your skinny jeans and take the tag off that sexy red tank top hanging in your closet. We are going out. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.
I don’t know why I assumed she drove home this weekend.
Twenty minutes later, I’m ripping my black leather jacket off the hook as Kylie pulls me through the door by my other hand. Her short blonde hair flips over her shoulder as she stops in her tracks to face me. Her light green eyes sparkle with mischief before she speaks. “Maci. Are you excited?”
“Umm, yes? Where are we going?” I just assumed it was a party.
“Let’s just say it’s going to be a bucket list kind of night,” she says with a wink. She’s the dramatic and sassy one of our group. Turning back around, she continues tugging me down the sidewalk, as if I’m not walking fast enough, as she goes on about how much fun we are going to have. Her energy makes me excited. After all, her mention of a bucket list must mean she’s taking me to a frat party, and I’ve been joking all year about going to one.
When we walk through the front door, I look around, and it’s everything I expected and nothing like I thought all at the same time. The entire living room is painted black, except there’s also neon paint that looks like it was flung all over it. It’s glowing from the black lights that line the edges of the ceiling. Off to the left is a wooden bar with a few bottles of liquor lined up next to a stack of red Solo cups. In the middle of the room is what I’m guessing is the main attraction. There’s a large circle of people around it, so it must be. Holy shit, is that an ice sculpture? It’s a giant mountain made of ice, with a shot luge running through the middle of it. I didn’t know things like this existed, let alone in a fraternity house in Oregon. It’s like I walked into a movie scene.
My eyes continue to wander around the room. Wait, maybe I walked into a practical joke instead. I stare a second too long, and when Troy looks up, our eyes lock across the room. A few different emotions flash through his eyes, but I can’t decipher them when it’s so dark. It looks like surprise and an apology mixed together.
I’m not sure what to think, my brain is flooding with chaotic information, so I just make a decision. This time I grab Kylie by the hand and yank her toward the ice luge. Someone, I assume a fraternity brother, is standing there with a bottle of Smirnoff. He tips the bottle back upright, after having dumped far more than a shot onto the ice, watching it slide into a pretty blonde’s mouth. I get his attention by stepping closer. “Can I have a shot?” I definitely don't need it, considering Kylie and I each had a bottle of wine we had poured into water bottles before our walk over here. Everyone in the room is already slightly out of focus, and I can hardly concentrate on what I’m doing, but with the new uneasiness of seeing Troy added to the anxiety I was already feeling about missing Dean so soon, it seems like a good decision at this moment.
He smiles and points to the end of the luge, where I squat slightly before tipping my head back and positioning my mouth directly under the opening. Before I have time to mentally prepare myself, cold alcohol splashes onto my tongue. It keeps coming–way more than a shot–and I try to swallow it before it overflows out of my mouth. It’s a wasted effort because I start choking anyway, but I’m too frazzled to be embarrassed. No one seems to be paying attention to me. I step back as Kylie slides into my place to get a shot of her own.
