Chapter 35

Mackenzie hasn’t spoken to me since she showed me her ex. People stopped trying to force conversation out of me an hour after that.

I got dressed and dolled up, put on lashes and a dress, hoping and praying that dressing up for a party would lift my mood and help me enjoy the fact that we won and secured our spot in the state championships. But it didn’t help. It didn’t help one bit. It made me bitter, and it made me angry.

I’m stood surrounded by people drinking, people laughing and enjoying themselves, and my blood is slowly boiling past the point of no return. I don’t know where my friends are. Faye and the cheer team were last in the games room playing beer pong. April and the soccer girls were outside on the soft chairs and bean bags. I wish I was in the mood to spend time with everyone. It’s the last party before we all go away for the winter trip. But I can’t help but feel bitter and hollow.

This party sucks, and it’s all because she’s bloody here.

Why the hell was the opposition invited to this party? Every girl here knows that Mackenzie’s ex is on the team. Whoever didn’t make the boys aware of this teeny tiny, momentous fact needs to be put down because they are Google’s definition of ‘asshole’.

All I can see is her face, that all-knowing grin she gave me when she somehow connected the dots between a captain and her player having a heated conversation. Her eyes, those venomous green eyes burning into me from between the goal posts, I could feel her gaze on me for the entire match, especially after their striker put a goal past us.

I hate her.

I hate how attractive she is, I hate that she used to make Mackenzie feel how I hope to one day make her feel. I hate how she worked me out without even speaking to me or meeting me. She just looked at me and just knew.

Fvcking bitch.

I scowl into the half-finished glass of vodka lemonade in my hand before downing the entirety of the remains. I don’t want to be getting drunk because I’m angry and spiteful, I want to be getting drunk with my friends and playing stupid drinking games. I want to kiss my girlfriend and get my hands under her shirt.

But I can’t.

Because I haven’t spoken to my friends in over four hours and my girlfriend is currently nowhere to be seen.

I pour myself another drink. I down it again. I still feel angry.

“Someone needs to chill on the Smirnoff.” I hear a voice behind me call out, and I spin as I’m the only person currently in the kitchen.

It takes everything in me to not be immediately rude, not because of the person, but because of the mood I’m in.

“I’m surprised you’re even attempting to talk to me.” I say shortly, pouring another drink and raising it in her direction sarcastically before pouring it down my throat.I don’t even bother with the mixer this time, my throat burning at the gasoline taste to the vodka.

“Yeah well,” Freya shrugs, leaning across the counter to fix herself a drink. “Someone has to attempt to get you to talk, and it’s better if you snap at me as we’re not friends.”

Freya looks pretty, which isn’t a sentence I’d ever say out loud or admit to anyone that I thought so. Her bright red hair is down, with small plaits and braids running through her hair. She’s wearing a short, green, crushed velvet dress that shows she actually has a figure hidden under her soccer kit and the hoodies she wears to school. She’s even done her makeup, something she doesn’t often do due to the masc lesbian vibe she seems to have going on at school.

I can’t help but smile. “That’s some logic.”

Freya smirks, filling her plastic cup at least half full with Malibu. This is the longest conversation I’ve ever had with Freya without nasty words being exchanged from either party, and it’s somewhat enjoyable. Freya looks more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her, a contemptuous yet drunken smile on her face as her eyes scan the party through the archway of the kitchen.

“I’m not being completely honest.” Freya admits, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup as she turns to look at me. I raise my gaze to her face that almost looks awkward, another look I’m not used to seeing Freya wear, especially not around me. Usually it’s spite, or malice, or annoyance. “I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

“I hope you’re not here to attempt to blackmail me again.” I laugh, watching as Freya winces at what I can only assume is the memory of her trying to hold my secret relationship with Mackenzie over my head.

“I want to apologise for that.” Freya starts, gripping the counter on either side of her drink. “I know exactly what it feels like when you’re not out, and I should never have threatened you with it, and I’m so sorry for that, Alex.”

She looks and sounds sincere. Honestly, this is the first time I’ve seen any form of remorse when it comes to Freya, and I genuinely believe her apology. “It’s fine. I needed to stop hiding behind my relationship with Clay anyway. We had been broken up for a while but I just didn’t admit it to anyone.”

“I am happy for you and Mackenzie, you know?” Freya says, although that doesn’t sound as sure as her previous statements. “Okay, no, I’m not, I’m bummed out that once again a girl I’ve had a crush on has been snatched up, but I promise you that I won’t be telling anyone about you. I like Mackenzie and I considered her a close friend before she started spending more time with you. Mackenzie can trust me. I won’t tell a soul.”

I smile, the first genuine smile I’ve ever given Freya since I met her. I pick up my cup from the counter top and tilt it in Freya’s direction as a toast. “Thank you Freya. I really mean that.”

Freya knowing my secret, knowing about Mackenzie and me, no longer scares me. In fact, I actually trust Freya to keep this secret for me.

“I also want to thank you.” Freya continues, and my eyes widen to the size of saucers. Freya chooses to roll hers instead. “Oh don’t look at me like that. I’m capable of it. I genuinely want to say thank you for what you did today, in the game. I know you were doing it to help Mackenzie more than anyone, but you told coach to rely on me.”

Freya twists her cup around in her hand, and her eyes seem to mist slightly. I hope she’s not going to cry because whilst we’re definitely having our first ever amicable moment I will one hundred percent walk off if she starts to cry. “The Stanford coach found me after the game and said if I play like I did today in front of his head coach then a scholarship is on the cards. I hate the thought of being in debt to you of all people, but I genuinely am. Thank you.”

For the first time in a long time, I’m at a loss for words. I only did what I did to keep Mackenzie on the pitch, and our other strikers are not yet good enough, but I didn’t think of what effect it could have on other people. Especially not Freya. But relying on her up front paid off as she scored her first hat trick of the season, in front of the scout no less, so I suppose I did do the nice thing.

I’m ripped from my thoughts when I see Freya lean towards me and plant a kiss on my cheek, my body freezing up in alarm as she smiles at me shyly before walking off to join the party.

I can feel the skin on my cheek burning a no doubt crimson colour, my awkward ass stood there completely stock still. It was surely just a friendly little thank you, but I still feel incredibly knocked for six.

“Well, that was a touching little moment wasn’t it? I wonder how Mackenzie would feel about that.”

My blood runs cold. That’s a voice I don’t recognise, and I don’t like that. The unfamiliarity sends poisoned ice through my veins and makes my heart start to beat unnaturally quickly, like it’s trying to burst from my rib cage and run from this situation. I steel myself and force a casual smirk on my face, knowing that girls kiss their friends all the time. This is nothing that Mackenzie needs to be threatened about. I’ll tell her about it myself when she decides to talk to me again.

I turn to face a girl I have no doubt was the one pointed out to me, with her dark hair and her venomous green eyes. That stupid fvcking smirk on her face is all that I’ve been able to see since the game this afternoon, and I see a small slither of a tattoo snaking over her right shoulder and grazing her collarbone.

I can’t help but think the girl is beautiful. Only problem is she knows it, and she’s also the disgusting cheating asshole who led my girlfriend to me.

I should thank her really.

It’s hard to look at her knowing I’m somewhat friendly with her twin sister. Luckily, whilst their facial features are the same, that’s where the similarities end. Giovanna is the epitome of femininity, with soft features and a kindness that clings to her features. Gee, well she’s just stone faced and vicious.

“Mackenzie would be fine, Gee.” I try not to spit her name out, but the word is bitter and acrid on my tongue and I have to force it out before I’m sick. “It was a harmless kiss amongst friends. You of all people should know the difference. I’ll happily leave the cheating to you, seeing as though you have experience and whatnot.”

I take pride in the fact I’ve rattled the girl, her jaw tightening as I’ve obviously hit a nerve. I wonder if she thought that Mackenzie seriously hadn’t told me about her wicked ex who cheated and broke her heart. I mean, it took a lot of trust and cuddling and convincing, but she let me in in the end.

Gee’s face is murderous, those malicious eyes emitting a silent fury at my very obvious jab. And then it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared, a cool expression sliding over her face as she crosses her arms over her chest. “That’s very bold talk for a closeted girl.”

I falter. She attacks.

“From the snippets of conversation I heard, I have a lot less compassion towards you than your little friend there. Whilst she might not blackmail you about who you are, I have no issue with it.”

She smiles, but it isn’t friendly. The grin is dipped in poison like that of a fanged snake, her vicious intentions fully expressed in the raise of her eyebrows and the malice in her grin.

“Mackenzie was right about you.” I growl, my grip around my plastic cup tightening. I can feel the lukewarm liquid of my drink sloshing over my fingers, indicating I’m holding on a little too tightly. Gee looks at me and tilts her head cockily, almost proud that Mackenzie had talked about her. “You really are a selfish bitch.”

I down the rest of my cup and storm off without a backwards glance, slamming the cup down on the counter as I leave the kitchen.

I force my way through the throng of bodies filling every square inch of Peter’s living room. The heat radiating from everyone is causing a small sweat to build on my foundation covered brow. There’s only one person I can talk to about this, and I still don’t know whether she’s ready to talk to me or not.

I need Mackenzie.

I find her, sat in the garden surrounded by our soccer team, a beer in her hand and Gemma perched on her knee. I try not and let the jealousy bubble over the top, knowing Gemma is definitely not flirting. She’s merely taking a seat as there are no spaces left on the outdoor sofa cushions and bean bags.

Mackenzie looks amazing, as always. Her hair has been pulled out of her face and into a high bun, small baby hairs falling in front of those intoxicating grey eyes. Her full lips are coated in lip gloss that no doubt taste like watermelon if it’s the same one she’s worn before. Her figure is accentuated by the small ruffles in the fabric of her dress, flowing and falling with the curves of her hips.

“Kens?” I try to keep my voice levelled as I approach the group. I don’t want anyone to notice my nerves or distress. Everyone is obviously drunk, Raven giggling uncontrollably and Faye’s eyes fluttering shut, a drunken smile across her face. Mackenzie’s eyes flicker up, those beautiful grey eyes, and she can’t keep the smile of her face at the sight of me.

That melts my heart and makes me feel better about the lack of communication between the two of us this evening.

“Yeah? What’s up ba.. Alex?” Mackenzie flinches at the name she almost called me, but instead of being scared, I’m disappointed she didn’t finish.

“I need to speak to you.” I say, my body aching to be somewhere more private with her than here. “I just had a very enchanting conversation. With your ex.”

Mackenzie’s face sobers. It never ceases to amaze me how quick that girl seems to sober up when a serious situation arises. She did it the night we first kissed. She did it when we talked after I come out to the boys. She’s always been so dependable, so steady. She nods silently before sliding out from underneath Georgia and coming towards me. “Let’s go to Peter’s room.”

We push through the crowds of sweaty, dancing teenagers with Mackenzie’s hand in my own until we’re up in Peter’s room with the door locked behind us. I don’t yet let go of her hand, the feeling of her soft skin in my palm has its own calming effect on me, acting like an anchor for me.

I fear that if I let go, I’ll disintegrate.

“Alex?” Mackenzie’s voice is sober, steady and soft. She grips my chin gently in her free hand and snaps me from my thoughts, her thumb caressing the skin of my cheek. “What happened?”

I’m happy that she is talking to me again, even if I wish it were under slightly better circumstances.She stands with effortless elegance, the flow of her dress making those toned legs of hers seem longer than they are. If I wasn’t stood up I would truly believe she stood about six feet without the heels, just on legs alone. But alas, my gorgeous girlfriend is still the ever so charming two inches taller than me. Looks like we both decided to wear six inch heels to this party.

“She knows.” I start, my eyes dropping to the floor. “About us, I mean.”

Mackenzie sighs and let’s go of my chin, running her hand over her brows. I can tell she’s thinking deeply, like she’s trying to fix this. I know she wants to fix this. “I can speak to her, I can try sort this, get her to not tell…”

“Absolutely not.” I say sternly. “She wants you to talk to her. That much is obvious.”

“Then what do you suppose we do.” Mackenzie snaps, worry boring deep into the lines of her face. She doesn’t snap out of anger so I don’t frown, I merely cup her face in my hands and kiss her softly on her lips. She tastes of alcohol and watermelons which makes me smile internally. She sighs softly and touches her forehead to mine when she pulls away. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to help you.”

It hits me.

I don’t think it needs to be.

For so long Mackenzie has let me hide my sexuality. Let me hide her. She has been patient and caring and has never pushed me to do something I’m not ready for. But I’m not ready to lose her. And I’m sure as hell not ready to be forced out by some green eyed psychopath who thinks she gets to have some sort of hold on me.

I’m tired of the hiding.

“I don’t want to be scared anymore.” I say to her quietly, watching as her expression changes multiples times in a few seconds. Surprise. Shock. Concern. One I don’t quite recognise. Her grey eyes are boring through my own, like they are searching my soul for an answer or an explanation. I only offer her peace.

For I am at peace with the decision I’m about to make.

I take her hand in my own and intertwine my fingers with hers, pulling her towards me and kissing her gently. It’s sweet, and doesn’t last half as long as I would’ve liked it to but it is meant to ease her without saying anything. “I want to dance with you.”

Mackenzie’s brow raises, and a slow smile spreads across her face like a wildfire of joy. I think she finally gets it.She sweeps her arm across her chest towards the door with a teasing look on her face. “After you.”

I pull her out of Peter’s room and back to the party, my hand locked tightly around hers like a safety net. The thumping of the bass matches the erractic thumping of my heart, nerves creeping up on me. They weren’t there before, but inching closer with every sweaty teenager we slide past has the butterflies taking off in my stomach.

But I want to do this. I don’t want anyone holding anything about Mackenzie over my head anymore. I just want to feel free from it all.

I don’t want to be scared anymore.

So I pull her in and pull her close, making sure her hands are running over my body and keeping me pressed against her. There isn’t a part of her I’m not running my fingertips over, until they are wrapped in her hair with her lips pressed against mine.

And for the first time since I met Mackenzie, I don’t care who is watching.

~•~

Hey everyone! Here is the new chapter which I’m safe to say is definitely moving this chapter onwards

I hope you guys like this chapter as much as I do! I hope you liked the build up and the confrontation, and I hope you like the recent character developments!

I love you all so much and I am really proud of this so I would love it if you gave me your opinions.

(PS that’s Mackenzie up top, played by the ever gorgeous Florence Pugh – let me know what you think of the casting choice)

Lots of love,

Lauryn xoxo