Eleven Dates [COMPLETE]

Chapter XI: in which it rains

The music was loud. Trevor and I got out of the cab. I refused to let him drive and I was not going to be the designated driver today. If he was going to get wasted despite his concussion I had a right to get wasted two. That was why we decided to get there in a taxi. After I told him that he was not going to go anywhere he argued that I had no right to tell him where to go. I said that I was not going anywhere and it began an on and off speaking contest until finally he said that if I did not come with him he was going to carry me over his shoulder to get me there. I, knowing that he's capable of doing it,  then demanded to get here in a taxi.

I thought he was going to refuse but he agreed right away. In a last attempt to persuade him against it, I had complained that I was not dressed for the occasion but of course he didn't mind and said something along the lines of you look great in anything you wear. By then I admitted that it was a lost cause and just changed into the dress I was currently wearing.

I decided that I wasn't going to speak with him as of the rest of the night and his stupid jokes on the way to the party were not breaking my resolve. The first thing I did was find myself a drink, if I had to be there might as well enjoy the night. Tristan was there, in the kitchen.

"Dakota! Tequila, right?" He waved with a bottle of something in his hand.

"Hi, Tristan. Yes, please" I smiled politely. He gave me a shot with some lime and salt.

"Here, I'll join you." He poured himself another shot and smiled. "Bottoms up!"

I shrugged. Sure, why the hell not? The liquid burned and I quickly squished de lime with the salt on my mouth.

"Do you want to dance?" He asked hopefully. He was less drunk than last time and I found myself accepting. It was not as if we hadn't danced before.

We danced around for a while, doing silly things and pulling funny faces after two or three songs. Tipsy Tristan was surprisingly cool. Drunk Tristan was a douch.

I dragged him back to the kitchen for another shot. When I offered him one, he refused. With two tequila shots in my system I started giggling and swaying on my feet.

"Let's dance again." I giggled again looking at Tristan. I did't wait for his answer and dragged him back to the crowd of people dancing. We danced together with no funny business happening, just enjoying the music. I got tired and signaled to Tristan that I was going somewhere else. He tried to say something but I left before he could.

I made a stop in the bathroom. I think at some point I fell asleep at the toilet because I don't remember when I finished peeing. The banging outside made me come back to my senses. I washed my hands and opened the door. Some girl glared at me and bumped my shoulder on the way in.

I went find Trevor to get him to dance with me, forgetting that I was angry at him. I looked in the dinning room and walked past the kitchen. When I couldn't see him I went back to the kitchen for another shot before I continued my search.

I finally found him at the living-room. He was sitting in one of the sofas with a girl. I couldn't see her face from where I was. They were painfully close. Her body was fully turned his way with on arm on the back of the sofa. Trevor was sitting upfront with just his head turned her way. Its his face I got to see. He had a happy expression and was talking animatedly. I felt a foreign stab of pain in my chest. I turned away. I needed another dance partner.

Turned out it was not easy to find someone to dance with. I decided on dancing in the middle of everyone. I moved between people — occasionally tripping — dancing, swaying and singing. I ended up near the living room from where I could see Trevor again. I turned my back to him and crashed with a cute guy, or at least I think he was because everything looked blurry. I'm my state I identified him as one of the benches guy on the team. I smiled at him and resumed my dancing. He got a little closer and Tristan appeared out of nowhere pushing him away. I frowned confused. The guy complained but Tristan glared at him and he walked away.

"Tristan, what the hell?" I protested.

"You'll dance with me." He came closer taking my hips. He was now drunk/duche Tristan. Even my drunk self noticed it.

"We already danced." I pushed him away lightly and discreetly.

I didn't see it coming. It was totally unexpected. Tristan was kissing me. His lips against mine. I hate drunk Tristan. I was to shocked to do anything. The shock was still there when someone yanked him away. Trevor pushed him against the wall. A small audience was staring at the commotion.

"Get the fuck out of my face." He snarled. Tristan nodded wide eyed and scurried away. Trevor glared at the people watching. "Mind your business."

I got back to my senses and scurried away, suddenly sober. I felt the spark of what was soon to become fire-breathing anger. I didn't understand what was Trevor's problem. He was so hot and cold lately. We were supposed to be best friends and he was not telling me what was bothering him. I missed him.

I was outside the house and realized that Trevor had walked out with me. The street was empty. I turned to him ready to confront him. He beat me to it.

"What is wrong with you?!"

"Umm... pardon?" Was he for real? He ignored me for a week, proceeded to ditch me in the party and now this.

"Why were you with Tristan?" He asked through gritted teeth.

"Why do you care? You're not my boyfriend."

"I don't have to be your boyfriend to care. Why were you with him now and before?" He stepped closer and I moved back.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you ditched me for some girl."

"You ditched me." He complained. "The second we walked in you disappeared off to somewhere and the next time I saw you, you were with Tristan."

"You made me come here!" I argued. "I told you we should've stayed at the apartment."

"The game was rough and we won. I was not just going to go to sleep!" He remarked.

"You could have a concussion right now. It's not healthy!"

"And you could've been raped!" He exclaimed.

"What the fuck is your problem!?" I couldn't believe he just told me that. I was drunk and reckless, but not irresponsible. I was in the middle of everyone and away from the stairs or a bathroom where someone could have dragged me.

"You cannot go around like that! Dancing with anyone that comes you way. I allowed it las-"

"Allowed it!" I threw my arms in the air. "This is rich. I don't need your permission or approval to dance with anyone!"

"Someone has to look out for you if you won't." By then we were screaming at each other's faces. He was so close I feel his breath when he shouted.

"You are not by brother!"

"Oh, I know that." He whispered. What... is going on? His eyes alternated between my eyes and my mouth. He had a weird look on his face and was impossibly closer than before. My breath hitched.

"What are you doing?" I stupidly mumbled. I searched for something — I didn't know what — in his eyes. He blinked and pulled away.

"We are leaving now." He grabbed my hand and pulled me down the street.

"We can't walk home. It looks like it's about to rain, and we'll make at least twenty minutes." On que thunder rumbled.

"We'll run into a taxi at some point, or you can ask for an Uber."

"Phone's dead." We have such a weird relationship, Trevor and I. Just a moment ago we were ripping each other's throats and now we were talking as if nothing happened.

"Then we'll walk." He shrugged. I wanted to pull my hair out. He was so infuriating.

We walked a few blocks in silence. The sky kept rumbling and lighting up, but otherwise was holding the water pretty well unthinkable it wasn't. That last thunder was the announcer of a downpour.

"This is your fault!" I covered my face trying to see between the rain.

"I know." The bastard smirked. "Now, run."

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Do you thing the both were a little jelly?

Regards,
A. L. Pecka