Chapter 19

Chapter 17:

“Alex! Get in the car before I bind you and force you in!”

“Kinky.” I giggle like a little girl as I drunkenly sway over to the car Faye has been trying to persuade me to get in for the last five minutes. I was having fun inside Vanity Lounge, enjoying the occasional free shot attractive bar girl was sliding me every so often and dancing like I didn’t have a care in the world before Faye told me that we were heading to Peter Morrison’s house party to meet the rest of the soccer girls. “I didn’t know cuffs were your kind of thing, Faye.”

Faye rolls her eyes as she grips my forearm with a strong hand, my drunken state not even registering pain anymore, although I doubt she’d be holding me tight enough for it to hurt. She’s steering me towards the car where Raven and Mackenzie are waiting for us with April, Kiera and Devon going ahead in an earlier car. I think April had had enough of looking after me so she jumped in the first car. Mackenzie looked like she wanted to follow but the car had driven off before she could get in, so here she is with a face like thunder as she looks at me.

Normally I would be hurt, or annoyed at the very least, about the way she’s looking at me, but tonight is my “don’t give a flying fvck about how Mackenzie Daniels feels towards me.” And so far I’m having a splendid time. Turns out that being ridiculously carefree amounts to a great time. It also apparently means that I open my mouth and let anyone and everyone pour alcohol down my throat for me to swallow, Kiera having a great deal of fun pouring shot after shot of tequila in my mouth until I nearly heaved all over the floor.

This basically means I’m seeing double at this point.

Faye pushes me into the back of the car and slides in after me, unaware of the fact she’s sat me next to a girl who really can’t stand me at this particular moment in time. Both Mackenzie’s send me a withering look before turning their heads and looking out of the window for the whole journey. I snort at the fact that I’ve had far too much to drink, looking forward so that I can calm my stomach which is currently doing flips inside my body.

Eventually the car rolls to a stop and I climb over Faye to get out, my brain needing cold fresh air on my face to stop myself from throwing up. I manage to stay upright as I stumble in the direction of Peter Morrison’s front door, the sound of heavy techno and Clay’s face greeting me at the front door.

“Here’s my little soccer captain.” He slurs as he rushes towards me and wraps me in a hug and spins me around on Peter’s porch outside his door. I scream as he trips over his own feet and sends us sprawling onto the grass, our laughter drowned out by the music coming from inside Peter’s house. The grass is damp and dewy against my exposed skin, a welcome coolness to the sweat that had built up during my time at Vanity Lounge. I wriggle out of my ex boyfriend’s grip and lay on my back on the grass, my head resting on his arm as I try and stop my vision from spinning out of control as the rest of my friends leave me and walk inside the house.

I catch sight of Mackenzie looking at me with a dark look in her grey eyes, my stomach tightening as she rolls them and pulls the hem of her dress down. I spent the past two hours ignoring her, and now I can’t help but stare at her as she storms inside, my gaze following after her toned legs until I can’t see her anymore.

I let my head drop back on Clay’s arm with a huff as I stare up at the sky, my eyes drawn to the clusters of stars that are just visible due to the light pollution in this area. I feel his hand playing with my hair as we both sit in a comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company for the first time in a very long while. I feel him shuffle under my arm after a while and I turn to look at him, a large portion of my drunkenness fading away after our laying down session. I turn to look at him to see him grinning at me, the knowing look in his eyes making me squirm the same way it did when we were kids. Clay, when he hasn’t been encumbered with the weight of being my boyfriend, has always had this special talent for getting inside my head and flicking through my thoughts. He always seemed to know what was wrong with me, what I needed, and if I ever needed to talk.

I think the look in his eyes suggests he’s just had his first “I know Alex” moments in a few months, and whilst I feel I know what he’s going to say, I’m surprisingly at ease with the thought of him just coming out and saying it. Clay has been my best friend for years, and he’s the most forward thinking out of all of my friends. Hell, his parents aren’t that religious and his uncle is gay so I don’t think he’d have a problem with me.

“Just come out with it Clay.” I laugh, swatting his chest lightly with my hand. “I know you’re bursting trying not to say it.”

“I don’t have anything to come out with.” He smirks, ruffling my hair with his fingers. Some of my hair is knotty and he finds his fingers get stuck, an action that has both of us laughing as he tries to untangle them. We eventually sober up, Clay looking at me with the same fondness he used to. “All I will say is that if she is what will make you happy, then you have to fight for her.”

My smile softens, and my heart soars at the sound of Clay giving me his blessing to move on, just like I did with him those weeks ago at his house. I grin and rest my head on his chest, allowing him to wrap his arms around me and press his lips gently to my temple. “Thanks, Clay.”

“I wouldn’t be allowed to call you my best friend if I wasn’t here to back you up, whatever the circumstances.” He says quietly against my skin. He kisses my forehead one more time before pushing himself away and sitting up on the grass. “Now get inside and make peace with her, because I don’t think I could deal with you looking sad for the rest of the night.”

~•~

Peter’s house is hot and sweaty, not dissimilar to Vanity Lounge. The rooms are smoky and filled with teenagers dancing on each other, plenty of people I recognise having fun shoving their tongues down each other’s throats. I grin and wave over to Derek, who’s dancing with her arms wound tightly around Raven’s waist and he nods his head my way before his attention is diverted to his girlfriend’s dancing. I wander into the kitchen where the soccer team members we came to meet are lined up with a colourful arrangement of shots in front of them. Elise shouts me over and places me in front of my own set of shots.

“Last one to finish has to bomb into the pool fully clothed!” Freya slurs her words, her voice a whole volume setting louder than it usually is. She’s so drunk that she can barely stand upright, and I hope for her sake she finishes her shots faster than someone else because I don’t think going in the pool would be a good idea.

“Go!”

I pick up my first shot and knock it back, ignoring the taste as I jump straight for my second one without wincing. I finish my shots the fastest, a triumphant grin on my face as Freya finishes shortly after. My eyes watch as Elise struggles to finish her shots, gagging at the taste of whatever she just drank until she’s the only one left to finish. I laugh with the rest of the team as she runs out of the kitchen and outside, throwing herself into the pool as the whole party seems to laugh and cheer before following her in.

I head back inside, determined to find Mackenzie. Despite the fact that she should be the one to apologise to me, something I think I’m going to make her do, I still want to see her. Clay’s words have resonated with me, and I realise that she does make me happy when she’s not frustrating me to no end. For the sake of my sanity and everyone else’s I know that we need to talk, so finding her now when I still have liquid courage seems like the best time.

I twist my way through the rooms occupied by students, my eyes darting around to catch a glimpse of the white blonde hair belonging to my blonde bombshell, but to no avail. She’s not downstairs or at least she’s not been in any of the rooms at the same time that I have, so I head upstairs, poking my head into any of the rooms that don’t seem to be occupied with more than one person. I don’t want to have to see what is causing the grunting because I think it would scar me for a significant amount of time, especially if it’s someone I know.

I eventually get bored of looking for her after I realise I’ve searched through near enough all of the rooms in Peter’s house. I’m in a half mind to think that she’s purposely avoiding me, which I guess I couldn’t blame her for. I was bitchy and rude when we were out, she was as well, but I suppose the pair of us could’ve handled that better.

She could’ve just admitted she was jealous and then I would’ve kissed her and all would be right in the world. I sigh and grab an opened bottle of Jack Daniels that someone has left on one of the bookshelves, unscrewing the lid and taking a large swig. I hate whiskey, so I cringe when I swallow, but the amber liquid warms my insides and relaxes my muscles. I push open the door to Peter’s bedroom, a room we’re technically not supposed to go in when he throws parties, but I know he won’t mind. It’s me, he likes me, and he trusts that I won’t start messing with his things or spilling drinks in his room. Saying that, I do screw the lid of the bottle on just that extra bit tighter to ensure that if, God forbid, I do knock it over, it won’t spill anywhere.

I wander over to Peter’s window and perch on the thick windowsill. It’s more of a nook, wide enough for me to sit on with my legs crossed and I can lean back against the wall. From here I have a pretty good view of the back garden, where a lot of my friends are stood or swimming. Clay is in the pool, his inky curls matted to his head as he launches his wet t shirt at Derek, a horrified look on his face as the material slaps him in the face; Raven jumping away from her boyfriend as the shirt nearly whacks her too. I smile, happy that my friends are happy. I catch Clay’s gaze as he smiles up at me, flexing his lean muscles good naturedly as I tip the bottle in my hands in his direction. I smile and unscrew the lid, blowing him a kiss before taking a large gulp, the liquid not burning anymore.

I hear the door open and my head whips around to see Mackenzie pushing it open, her gaze stopping on me along with her movements. “Oh, I didn’t realise anyone was in here.”

My eyes are drawn to the way a strap on her dress has fallen off her shoulder, and her hair is slightly wild and messy from the heat. Her eyes are blurry with alcohol but they are still bright and grey, albeit darkening slightly when she sees that it is me sat on Peter Morrison’s bedroom window sill and not a random person I think she hoped she’d find.

“Nobody should be in here.” I drawl, unable to stop the bitterness seeping into my words. I said that I was going to find her and apologise, but it doesn’t mean I can’t still be annoyed with her. She is holding my feelings in the palm of her hand and squeezing them tightly. Who knows what she’ll decide to do with them, she could either hold them closely or crush them in a fist. “The sign says nobody allowed.”

“Then why are you here?” Her lips curve upwards as she slides the door shut behind her, her bare shoulder leaning against the dark wood of Peter’s door. She doesn’t seem phased by the harshness of my words, not like she did all those hours ago before she stormed off. In her hand is a cup daintily held between her fingers as her thumb traces the rim, filled to the top with dark liquid I can only assume is coke.

Perhaps the alcohol running through her bloodstream is the reason for her not caring. If so she is the exact opposite to me, because when I’m drunk all I seem to do is care when she’s involved.

I can’t exactly say that I’m here in the hope that Peter won’t get annoyed with me, not that it’s really any of her business. I watch her for a few moments longer, my gaze wandering from her enamouring grey eyes, across her slender nose dusted in freckles, her nose stud glittering in the dim light coming from Peter’s bedside lamp. She’s so beautiful and interesting that I know my brain won’t let me stay away from her.  I know that she’s making me feel things for her that I don’t think I properly felt when I was with Clay and the thought of it terrifies the shít out of me. I clench my jaw before bringing the bottle back up to my lips and taking a large sip, pulling it from my mouth to see I’ve finished half of it by myself. I laugh at myself, realising that by drinking this I’m hoping I drown my thoughts out and fall captive to the alcohol and not to Mackenzie. I screw the cap on and decide I don’t want anymore.

“Is there a reason you’re still here?” I question when I find Mackenzie still stood at the door, her gaze transfixed on me. She’s looking at me in a way that makes me nervous, my breathing coming out short and in nervous bursts. She’s looking at me with so many conflicting emotions, from want to fear, to desperation. She arches her brow delicately before placing her cup down on Peter’s desk, striding across the room until she stops a hair breadth away from me. Her eyes are searching, pale in the glow of the moon as her hand grips my forearm and hauls me to my feet.

“Dance with me?”

I look at her like she’s grown a second head. She’s mad, truly mad. She’s so hot and cold, so confusing and infuriating that it drives me insane and not in the best way I’ve grown accustomed to. I open my mouth to protest but her finger presses tightly against my lips, the action causing my skin to ignite in tingles that are impossible to ignore. She’s drunk and crazy, her breath soft and smelling of alcohol as it lands on my cheeks. Her eyes scan my face and drop to my lips, returning to my eyes so quickly that I fear in my own hopelessness I made the flicker in her glance up. I place my hand on hers and move it from my face, shaking my head. “No, Mackenzie. I don’t feel like dancing and I quite liked sitting there.”

She rolls her eyes and drags me into the centre of the room and tugs me close to her, her nose skimming against mine as she takes the whiskey from my hand and tosses it onto Peter’s bed. I try and pull myself from her grip but her hold on both my mind and body is strong, her fingers dancing across my skin until her palms rest on my hips. “Alex, please.”

I sigh but nod my head, winding my hands behind her head and crossing them at my wrists, my breath getting caught in my throat when I feel her fingernails dig into my hips, her eyes watching me with such delicacy like she thinks I’m going to disappear if she blinks. It seems so surreal to be slow dancing to Get Low by DJ Snake, the thought making me giggle. I don’t giggle unless she’s around and it’s disgusting. “I can’t believe we’re dancing to this song.”

A smirk pulls at the corners of Mackenzie’s lips as she laughs breathlessly, her nose brushing softly against mine before her expression sobers, her eyes watching me carefully. We move slowly for a few minutes, her gaze never leaving mine as to make me think she’s drinking me in in the same way I do her. We just sway from side to side, my fingers sub consciously playing with the hair that it can reach, her own hands tracing patterns on my skin. Eventually she breaks the silence, her voice quiet and unsure when she speaks. “Alex, I’m going to ask you a question and I need you to answer it honestly for me, okay?”

I nod my head as my heart hammers inside my chest. I watch her as she swallows harshly and her grip on my body tightens, her eyes showing a fear I’ve never seen in her before. I can see the internal battle she’s having with herself, its showing in her eyes. Her gorgeous, enamouring grey eyes are windows into her soul and her emotions are on her sleeve, so much so that it’s making me nervous.

“Did you mean what you said at the bar?”

I know exactly what part of our bar conversation she is referring to. Her voice is quiet and holds hints of vulnerability, her gaze transfixed on my face as she scans it with a patient desperation, my words getting stuck in my throat. I know I admitted it before, but it was in the heat of the moment and for some reason repeating myself here and now sounds terrifying. “I was jealous; there is no point in denying it. Just the thought of you talking to someone that isn’t me makes my stomach hurt and after the way you were acting with me before, it felt like knives were being pressed so forcefully into my chest that I couldn’t breathe. I tried to ignore how I felt about you, all I knew was that you were another straight girl I found myself attracted to. But then you kissed me back at April’s party and I felt something, and I know you did too. You started holding my hand and making me feel like you liked me back, and God I hoped and prayed that you did. Please tell me that what you said tonight was true, because honestly I don’t think I could ever look at you the same again if you tell me you didn’t mean it.”

I feel I have stayed quiet for too long, panic and pain crossing over Mackenzie’s beautiful features as she tries to pull away from me, my hands flying to her forearms as she does so. I need time to absorb her words, to hear them over and over in my head as she admits that she likes me back. I open and close my mouth like a fish as a way of buying myself time. I know that there is no point in playing this stupid game where we stay in constant limbo with one another when we both know how the other feels. I want her, and hearing how she wants me back is like a weight has been lifted off my chest and I can finally breathe again.

“Yeah, I meant it, Mackenzie. How could I not?” I say quickly and quietly, my hands rising to cup her face in my palms. “You’re funny, beautiful, annoying as fvck and infuriating to the point that I get headaches. How could I not mean it when I said that I like you, it’s impossible not to.”

There is so much more that I could say to her, but I fear that if I did we’d be here all night and eventually be interrupted and the moment would be broken. She’s strong and sassy, and has been a constant rock this year to me even if she doesn’t realise it. Her smart comments make my days and knowing I have her to laugh with and talk to makes everything that little bit brighter. And God, her beauty never ceases to amaze me, both in mind and body. She’s guarded but at the same time so open, and every new thing I learn only reels me in and makes me want to learn everything about her. Yes more often than not we’re falling out with each other, but looking back I realise a lot of it has been down to my jealousy, and her fear of opening up.

I feel like the world has dropped away from us as we stare breathlessly at one another, a smile breaking out across her face, her bee stung lips stretched wider than I’ve ever seen them. One of her hands traces my lips with her thumb; the other buries itself deep in my hair. “Oh thank God.” She mutters before tugging me close to her and pressing her lips to mine. She tastes of strawberries and liquor, the taste dizzying and addictive. Kissing her is better than any image I conjured in my head. My hands loop around her neck and pull her body flush to mine, the erratic rise and fall of her chest felt against my own, her lips gently moving in a passionate dance as she forces me to walk backwards until my back hits Peter’s desk. I gasp as the wood sticks into my back, Mackenzie taking this as an invitation to slip her tongue in my mouth, her hands sliding to the back of my thighs as she hauls me up onto the desk, slotting herself perfectly between my legs. I pull away to breathe, my forehead pressing against hers, our breath coming out in pants as her eyes shine when she opens them. She looks so genuinely happy, and I know that my face is a mirror image of hers. Kissing her meant I felt everything I hoped to feel, my face flushed and my whole body warm. Her hands trace the curve of my body as her fingers find the collar of my jacket, flattening it against my shoulders before slipping the material off and leaving my skin bare for her to see.

Her hands shake nervously as she skims her fingers across my collarbones and up my neck, the pads of her fingers forcing goosebumps to rise on my skin, the smile only brightening on her face. I take her in in this moment, from her swollen lips to the way her hair is slightly dishevelled because I ran my hands through it. I didn’t know it possible to be more beautiful, but here she is. I lift my hand to her lips and laugh as I use my thumb to remove the smear of her lipstick, my laugh contagious as she joins me before I rest my head on her chest, loving the way her arms around my waist feels as she pulls me closer.

I don’t know what this means for us, but I sure as hell hope it means something.