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Why tequila? Why?
I’m suddenly very aware of Jeremy’s close proximity. He’s too close, and leans even further that I can feel the warmth of his breath on my neck.
This is wrong. It feels just wrong and bad. I want to crawl out of my skin.
“Want to get out of here?” He whispers against my ear as his hand runs down my back.
I jump forward, tripping over my own feet, and almost falling face first to the floor. Almost, but I’m good!
“Yup!” I turn to him before walking back to Layla and Bridget. “Just not with you.”
I find my friends and usher them out to the car. There’s no way I’m hooking up with Jeremy. No matter how drunk I am.
The entire car ride home I got badgered on why I wouldn’t hook up with Jeremy after I told Bridget and Layla what happened.
According to Bridget, it would’ve been“the perfect ‘fuck you’ to Dustin.”
According to Layla, it would’ve been“the perfect way to get over Nick.”
What they don’t get is Jeremy would only be hooking up with me as some sort of conquest, and there’s nothing to get over Nick for.
It’s done and over! We were friends and that’s it.
I lose interest and lose focus on what they’re talking about. My mind is a blur and I don’t even know how we get home so fast.
Bridget runs into the house claiming she needs to pee, before I can even get out of the car.
Layla, the only sober one, offers to help me in but I assure her I’m fine. Because I am.
I am fine. I can walk, maybe not straight, but I’m walking. One foot in front of the other and everything.
Her car drives off just as I get to my door, but I don’t go in. Instead, I stumble back down the porch steps and onto the lawn. The cold grass feels nice against my heated skin. The breeze cools my red face and the air calms the swirling in my stomach.
Pulling out my phone, I call the one number I shouldn’t. Alcohol is making me forget all the reasons I should not be calling him. It’s too tempting just to hear his voice.
“Finally.” Nick’s gruff voice breathes out. “I thought you were going to ignore me all week.”
“Hmm. I should.” I mumble while sinking down further onto the lawn.
“Then, why aren’t you?”
Good question.
“I’m stargazing,” I tell him instead of answering.
I think of him every time I see the stars since we laid out in the quad and searched for the constellations. He’s all I think about when I look up at the night sky.
Damn him!
“Lenny?”
“I can’t see any. It’s too cloudy or my eyes are closed. I can’t tell.” All I see is black.
“Lenny, are you drunk?”
Another good question I’m choosing to ignore.
“I could have gone home with Jeremy tonight.”
