Chapter 1 Something Fun

• The backlit mirrors in Mier'Chelie's don’t flatter me at all. I look like a rat!
• Weeks of planning, and my cardigan sleeves seem a bit long. The headband I put on is doing nothing to tame my wavy hair. Are Chuck Taylor knockoffs okay for here?
• Still…maybe Oliver will notice the effort.
• Speaking of which, has he seen my text messages? It’s already 9:43. If we eat and leave on time, we can get to the New Year’s firework show…
• “Lookin 4ward to u gettin here”—30 minutes ago, unread.
• I scrunch my eyes tightly. I worked hard to learn how eyeliner works, so I don’t want to mess it up, but…
• “Keep it cool, Cynthia… Just…two more minutes.”
• I already have a text reminder alarm set. There’s no need to bombard him.
• It’s okay. Just two more minutes.
• When I start opening the bathroom door—
• “Don’t go!!”
• —I almost smack myself in the face with it.
• Who’d scream like that here of all places? I got my answer when I peeked out the door.
• Jessica Parthow. She looks absolutely stunning in her deep blue dress. The dance team really does wonders for her legs.
• The guy she’s holding onto doesn’t seem to notice or care.
• Alex Hewlett: hockey team captain, satisfactory student, and notoriously unserious playboy. My Oliver waxes poetic about him constantly. Their current season is a huge success so far because of him.
• I…don’t really care about Alex. Sure, he looks like a fashion catalog photo made real: light slacks, tucked-in black dress shirt, clean sneakers.
• But from what I know, he isn’t one for commitment. A fling-only person, never dated anyone that I know of.
• Though Jessica’s, uh, not gotten the picture. I heard she texted someone, demanding they “stop trying to fuck my boyfriend.” From his phone no less.
• Those two are still fussing so…I’ll just wait in here for now—
• My heart jumps into my throat when my phone starts blaring.
• Ah. 9:45.
• Panic rushes through me as I try to turn it off, but I can’t get a handle on it before the bathroom door gets shoved open. I stumble back and look up.
• It’s Jessica, Immaculate, and furious. Her five-foot-seven seems mountainous to my five-foot-fourteen.
• Meeting her gaze is…too much. I try to slip past her, but her hand ensnares my shoulder.
• “Who the hell are you?” Jessica hisses, her nails digging in as I wince. “You were listening to us just now, weren’t you? Took a video to laugh with your bitch friends?”
• “Uh—”
• Before I answer, a large hand grabs my other shoulder and pulls me away. I freeze up, getting smushed against someone’s pecs.
• “Hey babe,” a saccharine voice says. “What took you so long?”
• …Oliver doesn’t call me ‘babe’. This body is too big, too.
• When I look up, Alex’s warm brown eyes meet mine. He winks before looking back toward Jessica.
• “…What’s that look for? You know I’m not one to date. I just wanted to have fun, but… It’s not anymore. See you.”
• Then, I’m being ushered away. My ears are too full of cotton to fully understand what Alex is saying to me.
• Were his hands always this big? This strong? He’s like a vice.
• I only realize how far we’ve gone when a gust of wind blows against my face… When did we get down the street?
• “...Okay, she’s leaving. Thank fuck—”
• I squirm out of his arms immediately, nearly braining myself on the snow-dusted ground. When I shoot him a look I hope is intimidating, he just raises his hands like he’s confronting a scared deer.
• “Hey, yeah, sorry about that. Jess was jumping down my throat.” I feel his eyes trail up and down my body. “You were a great help, though. Can I have your number? I’ll make this up to you.”
• It takes me a moment to process what he said, then irritation bubbles in my chest. Didn’t he just diss Jessica using me?
• “...No need.”
• I stumble past him, heading back to the restaurant. Whatever, I’m going back anyway. I just want to wait for Oliver.
• However, his sneakers catch up beside me.
• “I mean it, I’m really sorry about that! For real… Are you even waiting for someone?” He lets out a snort. “It’s almost 10. No qualified boyfriend would be late on a day like this.”
• I stop in my tracks and turn on him. With some effort, I forcefully unclench my jaw.
• “Someone who uses random girls on a whim should keep their mouth shut. He’s a thousand times better than you.”
• Alex’s eyebrows rise up as he gives me another once-over.
• “...You’re spicier than you look.” He starts smirking, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Redmond High, right? Do I know your perfect Prince Charming?”
• “Oliver is—”
• Ah.
• My six-month anniversary is today, but almost no one knows. Oliver doesn’t like school gossip, and I’m happy as long as he is. But…
• I cut myself off, glancing up at Alex, hoping he doesn’t know the name. But of course he does, thick black eyebrows raised in surprise.
• His grin turns playful, so I try making my expression as steely as possible.
• “Oliver Oakley? Yeah…great asset to the team. A real fun guy.” He gasps, and I jolt slightly. “Speaking of fun, Gunther’s throwin' a party while his folks are out. Go drop by. You might see something fun.”
• …The winter air firmly reminds me I’m just in a cardigan. I wrap my arms around myself and decide to flee instead of wrapping my mind around his suggestion.
• Alex calls after me. “Remember! 8293 Harvey Way!”
• I don’t answer him. There’s no need to.
• — — —
• I text Oliver at 9:52.
• Then 10:10.
• 10:35.
• 10:55.
• By 11 PM, I’m standing in the snow outside the now closed restaurant, my half-eaten breadsticks in a to-go box under my arm. My stomach grumbles with hunger.
• Did…Oliver just stand me up?
• No, he couldn’t have. Maybe he was just occupied.
• Like, anything could’ve happened. His phone battery could’ve died or he could’ve gotten into a car accident and couldn’t reply. Or maybe…
• No.
• If Oliver was going to a party, he would tell me. I don’t need to act out-of-control like Jessica. Given, Oliver and I actually are dating, but still.
• …Well. It’s not like I can’t drop by. I don’t know Gunther super well, but maybe he knows where Oliver is.
• Checking is fine…right?
• I’ll just see if he’s there, that’s all.
• Upon arrival, I immediately pick out his car among the others.
• The lights inside and the music are…a lot. There’s so many people, I’m getting squished just by stepping inside. It kinda burns, somehow.
• As I stumble onto the tile, I find Gunther there, a lanky brunette slumped in a chair with an off-brand booze bottle limp in his hand.
• “Hey…”
• Gunther blinks at me slowly like I’m a mirage. Maybe I look like one. My hair’s all over the place now.
• I try to drag words from the drying concrete in my brain.
• “Uhm…ah… Oliver. Do you, uhm… Know… Where he is?”
• He squints at me. “Whut?”
• The music’s too loud. So I try speaking up, but he doesn’t hear me. I try again, and no dice.
• “I said! Do you know where Oliver is?!”
• My throat feels raw as I scream. There’s sweat rolling down my back.
• “Ohh. Damn, you didn’t have to yell,” Gunther huffs. “He’s snoozing upstairs.”
• Relief floods me immediately.
• Where’s the stairs? Just find the stairs. The bedroom’s upstairs.
• When I catch a glimpse of the first step, I crawl my way through the crowd. I just want them off of me.
• Getting up to the second floor…
• It’s quieter, I think. I can’t hear past the buzzing downstairs, the ringing in my ears, and my own panting.
• But I know he’s here. I can feel him, my guiding light. Oliver’s here.
• I know he’s behind the first door I find. Surely he’s resting.
• I’ll ask him why he didn’t answer my texts later. I just…want to see him.
• Know that he’s safe. Just to calm down before I head home.
• The voices downstairs are counting.
• I open the door quietly, not wanting to wake him.
• But he’s already up.
• The voices are cheering.
• Oliver’s indeed in bed.
• He’s laying under the covers, kissing a girl with naked shoulders.