His Blue ✓

44| Engagement

The sun is dipping down from the sky when Anson and I arrive back at his place. At this point, the rain from before is gone. The sky is mostly clear and there are no signs that a thunderstorm just rolled through town.

Everything about the night seems normal again, until we see the amount of cars parked in the driveway. I see the look on Anson's face, and I say what we're both thinking.

"Does your dad have company over?"

He shrugs and pulls over on the side of the road. "I have no idea."

Well this is certainly awkward.

"You can take me home, if you want. I don't want to intrude on your guests."

Please don't let me embarrass myself!

"No, please stay." He smirks. "I need someone that I like around to talk to, if my dad's friends are over."

"Okay." I say unsurely. With an awkward breath, I leave the comfort of Anson's camaro. Once out of the car, we slowly walk across his wet lawn. We do this in attempts to avoid bumping-up against one of the many cars parked in the drive.

I hold onto Anson's arm, hearing sounds of laughter and music get louder with every step towards the home. He narrows his eyes and carefully opens the wooden front-door with one hand. "After you." He mumbles, and I step inside.

He joins me from behind, my eyes adjust to the sights of the room. Large decorations cover the home. Anson eyes a flower arrangement on a wooden table by the doorway.

"How long was I gone?" He asks.

"You mean all of this wasn't here when you left?" I question.

He shakes his head, and a new song begins to play in the other room. Anson follows the sounds which lead to a room full of nearly forty guests- all adults, all dressed fit-to-kill.

He looks at me in confusion, no one notices our arrival. A mustached man nearby smiles at me and downs a glass of champagne. I instinctively grasp Anson's shirt and follow him through the room.

It's hard to recognize his house with so many people and decorations. I watch two women laugh hysterically on the couch, still letting Anson pull me along. When he stops, I bump into him.

     Why are we stopping now?

I follow his gaze to a large sign that reads: Congrats! Parr-Fischart engagement.

Reality strikes me quickly. My mouth drops in surprise. I know Anson wasn't expecting an engagement between his dad and Kate so soon.

Apparently, they plan to tie the knot earlier than we expected.

I know Anson can't be pleased. Did he already know about this party?

"Anson? Did you intentionally try to miss this party?!" I call to him from behind. He doesn't answer, so I step up beside of him.

I notice how his gaze seems fixated on the sign, as if he considers ripping it down. The cords in his neck are visible and prominent as he clenches his jaw. His lips are pressed into a firm line.

"Anson," I tug on his sleeve. "You didn't know about this, did you ?"

He blinks away from his trance; his gaze icy. "Why would I? It's not like I'm the son or anything ."

I open my mouth, but he jerks his sleeve from my grip. Without warning, he shoulders through the crowd, away from me. Disappointment settles in my stomach; irritation in my heart.