Love Triangle

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Seven

We were all heading towards Cook's house. Yes. You heard that right. Apparently the Halloween after party was being hosted by him since he didn't get to throw a party after getting cut off from the team.

I was taking deep breaths.

Maybe thats why he didn't come to the dance? Or maybe dances in general were not his thing. Cook was an okay - mildly decent - dancer though.

Deep breaths I reminded myself.

Since last week's new deal, Cook and I have studied twice more. One more time at mine and another time at his but not in his room, back to the dining room and no pizzas were involved.

I was drawing audible breaths and Mark asked me if I was doing alright. I lied and said that I was.

Mark was driving, without his Waldo-like glasses, and Amanda and Penelope were in the backseat, they were talking about something but I couldn't concentrate over my shallow breaths and the overbearing music of the car.

We arrived later than everyone else. Cook's house was already radiating. I wondered if his neighbors would call the police on him somewhere throughout the night.

I climbed up the familiar steps. Katy, Wesley, Kent, Ashton, Viana and Jane were already there.

It was Cook, though, that came to greet us in the foyer.

"Welcome lads," he said, slightly swaying on his feet.

Oh-oh. He was drunk. I've never seen him drunk before.

He also was wearing a large black cape with the collar upturned. Was he a Dracula-like host? He had no makeup just a little bloodied bow-tie at his neck.

He winked at me before disappearing in the costumed crowd in his living room. I was unconsciously leading the group to the kitchen before I stopped and caught myself. They couldn't know why I knew my way around.

"Does someone know where the kitchen is?" I asked with my best poker face on.

Mark gave me a raised brow, Penelope shrugged, and Amanda pointed past the crowd. Safe to say we followed her lead.

Once at the kitchen, drinks were being concocted. I was reaching for a can of Coke and no one protested. These friends I had acquired did not recoil or chastise at my lack of drinking. I was incredulous.

A tiny part of me wanted to drink. Maybe I even wanted or waited for someone to offer?

I didn't have to be offered. I was being childish. If I wanted a drink or not, it was my choice and my responsibility. I made myself a freaking drinking. Maybe then I wouldn't think so much about wanting a drink or not.