Chapter 6 Homecoming

• Marcie
• “Chug! Chug! Chug!” I shout with the rest of the crowd at some keg-standing someone or other. The red plastic cup in my hand is almost empty, which means it’s time for a refill. My first. Or third?
• The keg-standing person splutters foamy beer, and I cheer with everyone else. Who the fuck am I kidding? These parties are fucking great. I have to go to more. And the music is… is also great. I stumble away from the crowd, on the hunt for wherever the bar ran off to.
• Something slams into my shins, and the room turns upside-down. I’m falling. Oh, shit! Before I can get my limbs together enough to catch myself, someone wraps warm arms around my waist and arrests my fall. I blink a few times and look up at my rescuer.
• Blurry jaw. Blurry hair—not that long, maybe pink. Or purple? No, wait, that’s the strobe lights, coloring his hair. Regardless, he’s blurry-handsome, and I smile easily up at him from where I sit in what seems to be his lap.
• “Did it hurt?” he asks.
• I laugh. I could fall off a building right now and bounce, I think. “Not a bit!”
• “No, uh.” He shakes he head. “I mean when you fell, um—”
• “I said no!” I adjust myself so I’m sitting up. Man, this couch is warm.
• He smiles. “When you fell from heaven.”
• I throw my head back and laugh. Something about the booze and the cheesy pickup line and the blurry-handsome man is so completely, utterly perfect I feel like I’m floating away on a cloud of perfectness.
• “So you’ve heard that one a time or two?” he asks.
• I nod a few times. “I think Adam may have used it on Eve.”
• He smiles. I wonder if his blurry mouth is as warm as his arms. “All right, so it’s been a little while since I’ve been to a party. Can you fault a guy? You fell into my arms.”
• “Sorry.” I can’t stop smiling. “But don’t worry, I’m not too judgmental. This is kind of my first party.”
• “Really?” His pink-purple-blue eyebrows shoot up. “I’m surprised. You look so at home here.”
• I try to wave my empty cup and discover I’ve lost it. “Let’s just say I’m very socially lubricated.”
• He laughs. “Maybe I should try things your way. I perform a lot better when a few close friends want to sit down for a game.”
• “Poker?” I nod seriously. “Or are you a proper old fogie, and when you say game you mean like, chess?”
• “Hey, I’ll have you know I’ve played board games that came out after at least 1995.” He grins. “I’m pretty sure.”
• My next laugh surprises even me, less alcohol-fueled and more inspired by the easy banter between us. God, I forgot how much I like funny men. I forgot how much I like men! I can’t even remember the last time I looked at one, and however blurry he might be, I am looking now.
• “How did you escape your hermit cave in the mountains?” I ask. “Or was it more of a princess-in-a-tower situation?”
• “Definitely princess tower.” His blurry mouth twists wryly. “I’m a regular Princess Gwendivere.”
• My mouth drops open. “Gwnedivere? Like from Manticore Quest?”
• “No way! You know Manticore Quest?” He shakes his head, but I think he’s smiling teasingly.
• “What, women can’t play video games?” I demand. “How very medieval of you.”
• He laughs. “Fuck no, but no one plays random German video games from defunct consoles. I swear, I thought it was just me and a dozen freaks on forum boards.”
• I pat his cheek. “You’re not thinking broad enough, young warrior. The Internet is much bigger than forum boards. I’ve got whole websites of fan communities. I can show you”—I drop my voice into my best impression of Morgengraun, the witch from the game—“powers the likes of which you’ve never seen.”
• “Oof, that’s awful.” His whole body shakes with laughter. “And that’s not even the fucking line.”
• “Yes, it is!” I smack his shoulder lightly. “I’ve only played it like a million times. Gwen’s stuck over the cauldron, Sir Lancival isn’t there yet, and she says the potion is going to grant her powers the likes of which you’ve never seen.”
• “So close.” He leans back in mock pain. “But it’s power the likes of which the world has never seen.”
• I laugh in disbelief. “The second person I meet in real life who knows this game is a fucking pedant! Not fair!”
• “Totally fair.” His smile catches the strobe as well, until he’s all pink-purple-blue. “I’m basically saving your life. Now, you won’t be humiliated on these many fan websites you brag about.”
• I shake my head and muster my itinerant thoughts to prove him completely, totally, ridiculously wrong.
• Time turns to sand in my palms. I blink, and I’m facing the handsome stranger, now completely straddling his lap. Did I get back on him? No, the couch was warm. I never got back up. His arms are heavy and grounding around my waist, certain proof I’m not going anywhere, and he’s got the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
• “Lose your sentence?” he asks.
• I was talking. Fuck. “Maybe. I think you might be too pretty to talk to.”
• “I get it, that’s why I’m Gwendivere.” He offers me a shy smile. “Someone really ought to hide me away to make sure my beauty doesn’t go around messing up gorgeous women like yourself.”
• My face flames. He’s flirting with me! I’m flirting with a strange man at a party, so strange I don’t even know his name. I take a breath, wait for the anxiety to kick in, but I just drop my head against his shoulder in helpless laughter. I haven’t given him my name either. This doesn’t feel like a sloppy mistake. It feels silly, and wild, and free. Like I was told college was supposed to be.
• “Ah, fuck, is that the time?” he mumbles.
• I pull back off his shoulder to see him checking his phone with a frown. I can’t quite put the numbers together enough to make a time, but it seems late. Or late enough that it has gotten early again.
• “Why?” I ask. “Got somewhere else to be?”
• He grimaces. “This is going to sound like bullshit.”
• “Don’t worry, Gwendivere, I’ll believe you.” I wrap my arms around his neck and smile.
• He sighs. “I’m expecting a call, and if I don’t pick up, or if I take it from here, there’s going to be hell to pay. I have to go.”
• I nod sagely. “Ah, the classic girlfriend in Canada excuse.”
• That startles a laugh out of him. “You really think I’m putting you off right now?”
• “A mysterious call? A sudden excuse to leave?” I tighten my arms around his neck. “Either you’ve actually got a girlfriend, or you’re trying to run away.”
• “No girlfriend; no running away.” He meets my gaze. “Promise, okay?”
• Well, who am I to disagree with a man who promises? I stare at his blurry mouth. It would be so easy to lean in. Only a few breaths separate us, and then I would know what he tasted like, if he really is as warm all over.
• The room spins a little. Maybe I’m way too drunk for this. But tonight is not a night for giving up. I twist and snatch his phone out of his hands. With only a few incorrect clicks, I open his contacts and create a new one. My number goes on one line. Above it, I start typing “Marcie,” then back up. I’m being silly and free. I type “Sir Lancival,” then hit save and give his phone back.
• “Is that what you want me to call you?” he asks with a smile.
• I collect all my muscles and launch up off his lap as gracefully as I can manage. “Text me sometime and ask.”
• It’s nearly a perfect exit. I stumble at the corner and almost collapse, but I don’t look back to see if he was watching. I’m free. Dana’s going to be so proud of me.