“You must be hot,” Will says, startling me.
He means my jacket, but I blush anyway.
“I don’t know if there’s a place to put my jacket,” I say.
“I’ll take it.” He sets his drink on a coffee table.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“No, I’ve got it. I’ll find a spot for it.”
I unbutton it, feeling strangely like I’m in a movie. Undressing.
“I like your dress,” he says when I hand the jacket to him. “I love it.”
“Thanks.” I can’t even look at him.
“So, I’ll be right back.”
I nod. But as soon as he leaves, I feel a hundred times more self-conscious. I sip my drink faster, my other arm curling across my body. It occurs to me that Will could peek at the tag of my jacket and see my size. Which makes my heart jump so high in my throat that I almost run after him.
But suddenly, someone’s beside me. A random boy. “Hey, want to hear something crazy?” the boy says, as if we’ve known each other for years. I’ve never seen him before in my life. He’s pretty cute—kind of athletic looking, with super-short brown hair.
“Okay,” I say.
“So, like, we’re in this little town,” he says. “Like, in England. And there’s this big stone wall next to the street. Like, just this big-ass wall. And so we’re pretty fucked up at the time, and my dude Jones has to pee.”
I don’t know who Jones is or why I should care about his bodily functions. But maybe this is how parties work. Maybe there’s some kind of drunk etiquette I don’t know about.
“So he pees on the wall, but then . . .” He sips his drink again, and then says, “Shit.”
“What?”
“I’m gonna need a refill. You want something?”
And I don’t know how any of this works, but I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to let strange guys fill my drink.
“I’m fine?” It comes out sounding like a question. I hate that.
“No worries,” he says. “So like—well, I gotta tell you this part. There were these giant fucking—”
“Hey.”
I look up. And Will’s back.
“Hey, man,” says the guy.
Will narrows his eyes at him.
“Oh, are you guys, like, together?”
“Yes,” Will says quickly.
My heart almost stops.
“Oh, okay, cool. That’s cool,” the guy says. “Okay, well, have a good night.” He chugs the last of his drink and starts to leave—but then he turns back to face me, suddenly. “Okay, I just gotta say it.” The guy touches my arm. “You are fucking gorgeous for a big girl.”
I freeze.
“It’s a compliment!”
I look at him. “Fuck you.”
I’ve never said that before. At least not out loud. It feels kind of amazing. My heart pounds wildly.
“Whoa. Okay. Not trying to . . . whatever.” He tilts his hands up defensively. And as he drifts back into the crowd, I hear him mutter, “Fat bitch.”
Will looks at me. “Okay, that was the hottest fuck you moment I’ve ever witnessed.”
“Um. Thanks.”
“Do you even know that guy?”
“Nope.”
“Wow. Just a random dickhole.”
“I guess.”
I can’t think straight. I can’t think of anything other than the fact that Will said we were together. And I know he was just trying to get rid of the random guy. But still.
He sinks backward onto the futon, patting the cushion beside him. I sit and tug my skirt down closer to my knees.
My heart won’t stop pounding. I take a tiny sip of my drink.
He leans back, eyes flicking toward me, and he opens his mouth like he’s about to speak. But I cut him off with a question. And I almost don’t realize I’m asking it until it tumbles from my mouth. “Why did you tell him we were together?”
“Oh. Shit.” His eyebrows shoot up. “Sorry. Were you trying to . . .”
“No! God. No. He was shady.”
“Yeah, you looked really uncomfortable.”
“I did?”
Will laughs. “Yeah, your body language was like . . .” He sits up rigidly straight with crossed arms and a look of utter terror on his face.
“I did not look like that!”
“I mean, I thought you were going to vom. That’s kind of your thing, right? Public barfing?” He grins.
“Touché.” I smile back at him.
God. He really is so beautiful. His eyes are supernaturally blue. And he’s funny and nice and smart and all the other things boys should be. Not to mention that he’s best friends with my sister’s girlfriend. It would make a lot of sense for me to fall for him.
Much more sense than Reid, for example.
I lean back against the cushions and squeeze my eyes shut. When I open them, I catch a glimpse of yellow shorts and tangled legs on an armchair across the room.
It’s Cassie and Mina.
The funny thing is, Cassie’s always described her hookups in glorious detail, but I’ve never watched one happen. I’ve never actually seen her make out with someone.
It’s weird.
And sort of sweet.
But mostly weird.
They’re completely intertwined. That’s the main thing. It’s not even that they’re kissing continuously, but there’s no space between their bodies anywhere. I watch as Cassie tucks a lock of Mina’s hair behind her ear, and Mina’s lips twitch into a smile. Then Cassie says something, and Mina laughs, and they kiss again, and Cassie’s hand cups Mina’s cheek.
I definitely shouldn’t be watching this. Though I guess I’m not the only one. At least three dudes are blatantly staring at Cassie and Mina like they’re the Super Bowl.
The futon creaks, and I suddenly remember Will is sitting beside me. He’s tucked one of his legs up, bent at the knee, and he’s tugging at his shoelaces. And looking pointedly away from the armchair.
“Are you freaked out by it?” I ask, and my voice comes out quiet.
He looks up at me with a start. “By Mina and Cassie?”
“I don’t know.” I smile slightly. “I guess?”
He leans back, staring at the ceiling. “I think they’re good together.”
“Oh, well, yeah. I just mean the fact that they’re making out in front of us. It’s like watching your parents make out, you know?”
He laughs. “Sort of.”
I sneak another glance at them. They seem so separate from this room. Like they’re on a piece of driftwood, floating. And I feel so lonely, all of a sudden.
Maybe I should reach for Will’s hand or scoot closer or say something uncareful. I could do that, I think.
But then my phone buzzes.
I shouldn’t check it. Not right now. It’s just a text. Probably from Abby. Or from Olivia, who’s still in Pennsylvania with Evan Schulmeister.
I will not be vag-blocked by Evan Schulmeister.
It buzzes again, and I lose my train of thought.
“Anyway, I should probably find Max,” Will says, patting my arm quickly, before hoisting himself up. “You’re okay, right?”
“Yeah. Definitely.” I nod.
It’s funny. I feel less disappointed than I thought I would.
As soon as Will walks away, I peek at my phone.
It’s Reid.
I guess I kind of had a feeling.
So I’m sitting here with Douglas outside of Medieval Madness
And this place is an orgy.
Wait, Douglas would like me to clarify that Medieval Madness is not an orgy. King Street is an orgy.