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I… didn’t know why I was comparing this random guy to Brett.
“I’m good for now,” I said, still smiling at him. “But thanks.” I let my gaze linger on him for a while, and then I moved my stare to the yard, surveying the nearby area. The yard wasn’t overly huge. It had a few big trees, and the shadows from said trees made perfect hiding spots. There was no way Brett was here yet, and knowing he wasn’t here to be my backup made me even more nervous.
This guy couldn’t be my stalker. I didn’t know him. He wasn’t in any of my classes. We’d never met before.
“You want me to leave you alone?” he asked, more gentlemanly than I would’ve expected from a random dude who approached me at a frat party.
I shrugged. “You don’t have to do that. You could stay. We could talk—unless you have more interesting people to hang out with.” I was one of the least interesting people on the planet, so I wouldn’t blame him if he skedaddled out of here.
To my surprise, he stayed. His name was Alex, and he seemed like a genuinely nice guy. It was sort of reminiscent of Zak. In the beginning, I think I was drawn to his laugh, his smile, the way he made me feel completely at ease. I wasn’t used to it.
I still wasn’t.
I found out Alex was majoring in marketing, and he was in his second year, like me. He tried to ask about me and what I was doing, but every time he did, I found a way to coil the conversation back toward him, hit the ball back into his court. The last thing I wanted to talk about was me.
Honestly, I didn’t know how long we talked, but it had to be a while. Definitely long enough for Brett to arrive and stalk the party in hopes of seeing my mystery guy.
Unless he decided to leave, which he might’ve. All of this could’ve been nothing more than a ruse, and Brett was gone. He wasn’t fully healed, but he seemed rash enough to think he could take on the world while not at one hundred percent.
The thought of never seeing Brett again made me sadder than I wanted to admit.
“I’m going to get us some drinks. What were you drinking?” Alex asked, pointing to my now empty cup.
The first rule was never accept a drink from a stranger you didn’t see poured, and to never let that drink out of sight. I wouldn’t drink anything he brought me, but turning him down might be rude, so I said, “Surprise me.”
He flashed me a smile and wandered into the house, leaving me there alone. The night breeze coiled around me, and I turned my head to the yard, watching a new group set up a round of beer pong. I’d lost track of how many games had been played so far by everyone.
It wasn’t but a few seconds before I heard a familiar voice say my name, “Charlie?”
My stomach dropped, and if I wasn’t gripping the handrail of the porch, I would’ve lost my balance. I shut my eyes for just the quickest of moments, seeking to gather all the courage inside me. I’d spent it all coming to this stupid party to begin with. But I had to find more, because this person was obviously not going away.
He moved to stand closer to me, repeating, “Charlie? Is that you?”
When I opened my eyes, I turned around. The one standing behind me, the one asking if it was me, just so happened to be the one person I never wanted to see again.
Zak.
Chapter Twelve – Charlie
Zak looked just as cute as ever, and his face broke out in a dimpled smile when I turned around and he saw it was indeed me. Those dimples always got me. They gave him a certain boyish charm. I think it’s why he never let his face get overrun with stubble; he kept himself shaved so those dimples could be the weapons they were meant to be.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, taking another step toward me. He still smiled, but that smile appeared conflicted, almost like he didn’t believe his eyes.
Shrugging, I said, “I needed to get out of the house.” Like hell would I tell him anything real. He’d lost that privilege over a year ago.
A year. That’s all it’d been, give or take a few months. One year, and Zak looked exactly the same. His blond hair was still short, his hazel eyes vibrant and crisp in their multitude of colors. My heart beat fast while staring at him, and I struggled in vain with myself to push the memories of what happened down.
I didn’t want to think about that right now, nor did I want to think about how many times he’d tried to message me online, text me and call me to try to explain. I didn’t want to remember how often my parents had asked about him after we’d broken up, how I’d never quite told them the truth.That time he’d forced me to talk to him at my parents’ house had been the last time we’d spoken.
We’d grown apart. That was my excuse. We went to college and things just changed. It was true enough, but the hard, unflinching truth was… he’d fucked up.
“Still commute?” Zak asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he meandered to the railing beside me. He stopped when he stood less than six inches to my right, and I’d be lying if I said I was comfortable with him being so close.
He’d lost that privilege. He had no right to stand that close or to talk to me at all.
But he was here, and I couldn’t help but stare at him and wonder if he was the one I’d come here for.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Save some money while I can, you know?”
