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She is really good at doing makeup. She did mine and Bridget’s. Bridget warmed up to her after that.
There are a ton of parties happening tonight.
A senior party down the block from us. Some frat party around the corner, the hockey party, plus some small gatherings on random lawns.
It’s the first weekend of the new semester so everyone is out celebrating.
It’s already past nine by the time we head out. Layla and Bridget’s heels hit the concrete making me nervous and anxious with every step.
Maybe I should’ve worn heels.
They’re both shorter than me. I’d be towering over them in heels. I hate wearing heels, but walking between them in my Keds, I feel underdressed even in my skirt.
“I can’t do this.” I stop them mid-stride. “Why am I so nervous? I hate this feeling. My palms are sweaty.”
Layla grimaces, trying not to laugh as Bridget checks my temperature.
“You’re nervous and sweaty because you have the hots for Nick!” Layla announces like a miss know-it-all. “Come on, just admit it and you’ll feel better.”
Both of them wait for me to get it out.
I cringe not wanting to admit it, but there’s no one else here.
What would admitting that I’m totally crushing over Nick Miller do anyway? No good can come out of having any sort of feelings for him.
It’s not even feelings, it’s just that he looks really good in whatever he wears and doesn’t wear. And that smirk. And his eyes.
“Alright, fine!” I give in to their intimidating stares with a groan. “I think he is crazy sexy and gorgeous and he gives me chills and makes me burst into red hot flames all at once when he gets close to me.”
“Anndd…” Bridget drags out, pushing me to finish.
“And I like him and I can’t stop thinking about him or that one time we were together!” I let it all out with a growl.
I hate admitting it. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since this semester started. To be completely honest, I haven’t stopped thinking about it since that night.
The memories invade every fantasy I’ve had since.
I’m already over the country air and the glamor of being back. I’m just a jittery nervous wreck waiting to run into Nick Miller again.
“Do you feel better?” Layla asks, waiting for me to collect myself again.
“Surprisingly, yes. I still feel nervous, but not as jittery. Hold on.” I take a few deep calming yoga breaths. With one big stretch the nerves are slightly calmed. “Okay, I’m ready.”
I really do feel better.
It’s a good thing no one else is near us. I look like a crazy person. I sound like a crazy person. A person who is head over heels for the unattainable.
Layla and Bridget are both looking at each other thinking the same thing.
I’m not really crazy. Just anxious.
Breathing exercises help.
The house is already filled to capacity. The music is on full blast and we can hardly walk through the door. I hate everything about these parties. The drunken people bumping into me, squeezing in between people to get to an open space, the loud obnoxious music I can’t hear over.
I can’t stand the awkwardness of accidentally knocking into couples practically having sex in every corner of every room or on any couch.
There is even the stench of vomit already coming from the bathroom.
