The Girl You Knew

TWO

I hadn't seen Ty since that night. He was standing on the opposite side of the living room with my brother, congregating with some of the football team and a few girls I recognized from school. He was sporting a worn gray t-shirt and a pair of jeans, his dark hair a little longer than before. Hair that my very hands had gripped into...stop it—

"Layla! There you are," Sloan said now, spotting me. "Come on. I need another drink." She grabbed my wrist, pulling me out of the crowd in the living room and towards the kitchen. When I glanced back, Ty was watching, his eyes following me, until I disappeared around the corner.
"Drink?" Sloan asked, going to the fridge and grabbing two beers.
"No, thank you," I said.
"More for me," she shrugged, popping the top and taking a big swallow. "God. There's, like, no cute guys here."
I thought of Ty, in his gray t-shirt, just existing. Ugh.

Here's the thing. I still hadn't told Sloan about that night. In my defense, I hadn't told anyone. Especially not my brother. Or my parents. Mostly for the simple fact that he was Luke's best friend (and had been for most of our lives). But also because I was not that girl. I had never so much as had a boyfriend. It had always been simple for me: get good grades, make responsible choices, and stay out of the way. My mom and dad already had their hands so full with Luke's sneaking out and lying that it became second nature for me to make their lives as easy as I possibly could.

What would any of them think if they knew I had tarnished my perfect little reputation within the span of about, oh, an hour? I'd thought a lot about that night and how I would live to tell it. But I couldn't ever come up with the words. So I'd pushed it as far back in my mind as I possibly could, and decided I would just die with it.

I watched now as Sloan chugged the rest of her beer in record time, and then popped the cap on the next one.
"Now that is how you drink a beer."
Sloan took another sip, looking over at the guy who'd just stepped into the kitchen. I didn't recognize him. He was cute, with blonde hair and the bluest eyes I'd ever seen: most definitely Sloan approved. I could tell by the way she was already eyeing him.
"And you are?" She asked.
"Just grabbing another beer," he pointed at the fridge, grinning. Then he walked over, collecting his drink, before turning back around.
"Right. What's your name?" She smiled back.
"You first." He said.
"Why don't you try to guess?" Challenge accepted.
He was silent for a moment before he spoke. "You look like an Amber. Or a Rachel. Am I close?"
"Unfortunately, no," she said. "Guess we'll be here all night."
"I can handle that." He assured her.
"Oh, really?" She stepped closer to him now, taking the beer out of his hand that he'd just opened and putting her lips on the rim. Then, cocking her head back, she chugged until it was gone. The guy just stood there watching, a smile painted on his face. I felt like I was witnessing an intro to a bad porno.
"I promise," she said, placing her pointer finger on his chest. "You can't handle me."
"Why don't you show me, then?"
Barf. I was just about to make an excuse about how I needed to use the bathroom, but I didn't make it that far.

"Adam?"
The guy—Adam?—turned now, eyes wide. Standing in the doorway of the kitchen was an angry looking girl about our age, that I also didn't recognize. She couldn't have been more than five feet tall.
"What the fuck are you doing?" She asked in a nasally voice.
"Nothing," he shrugged, now taking two steps back from Sloan. "I was just getting a drink."
"Who are you?" Sloan asked.
"His girlfriend. Who are you, bitch?"
"Bitch?" Sloan laughed, setting the empty bottle down on the counter. Shit. "I'll show you a bitch."
"Sloan. Stop." I said.
"No. She clearly doesn't know who the hell she's talking to. But she's about to find out."
"Hey, let's just chill." Adam pleaded.
Just then—as if the heavens had literally opened up and saved me—my brother popped in the doorway. It took him all of twenty seconds to read the room.
"Everything okay?" He asked, looking over at me first, then at Sloan.
"Yes," Sloan answered. "Adam and his little girlfriend were just fucking leaving."
With that, Adam stepped across the kitchen, silently, and grabbed his girlfriend before disappearing. I heard her slur a few curse words at him before everything fell silent again.
"What a cunt," Sloan grumbled, going to get another drink. "Of course he has a girlfriend. I should've known."

"I'm gonna find a bathroom." I said now, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.
"Whatever," Sloan sighed. "I need another drink."
With that, I left her and Luke behind in the kitchen, going to find some air. Down the hallway was a back door. I walked down it, turning the door knob, and stepped out. There was a large deck bantered with string lights, and a flight of wooden steps. Below the steps, a huge backyard. It wasn't until I turned to my left, scanning the deck, that I saw him. He was standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking at me. I could have turned and gone back inside. Pretended like I'd never seen him. But my feet felt as if they had been bolted to the floor, or my legs had forgotten what job they were supposed to be performing. Ty. It was always him.

"Hey." He said, shuffling his feet.
"Hi," I managed to say, my face getting hotter by the second. "Sorry. I didn't know anyone was out here."
"It's crazy in there," He said. "I just needed a minute."
"Yeah, no kidding," I said. "Sloan has probably ended at least three relationships tonight."
He chuckled. "Not surprising."
"Not at all." I said.
"So. How have you been?" He asked now. He was looking at me so intently, waiting. Always so serious. I could have told him the truth. Part of me wanted to. That I was confused. I wanted to ask him why he'd never called after that night together. But deep down, I already knew the truth: for me, it had been a rite of passage. For him, it had just been a mistake.
So instead, I said: "I've been fine. You?"
"Making it, I guess." He shrugged.
I just nodded, not sure what else to say. And then, before I could even form a thought, he spoke again. "Look, I just wanted to make sure we're good. Because, you know, I'm around sometimes. And I just..."
"Why wouldn't we be good?" I asked, swallowing the knot that had just formed in my throat. Hold it together.
"Because of us. Because of that night." He said.
"I knew what that night was when it happened, Ty. I didn't expect anything else." Another lie.
"Right. I just wanted to make sure that we're on the same page." He said, shuffling again.
"We are on the exact same page." I assured him.
"Have you—did you tell anyone?"
"No," I said. "Did you?"
"No. I wouldn't do that."
"Right. That would be pretty embarrassing for you." The anger was coming out of no where. I could feel it, rising up like bile, so close to spewing out.
"It's not like that," He said. And he almost sounded like he meant it. Almost.
"Trust me. I get it. You don't have to explain."
"Layla—"
"Seriously. You don't."
"Okay." He said, sounding defeated.
"I should go. Sloan's probably half wasted by now." And then I turned, tears pricking my eyes, and slipped through the backdoor. I searched until I found an empty bathroom. Then, locking the door behind me, I let the tears fall, one by one, until there were none left at all.