18: The Hope On His Breath

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"Chloe, what is wrong with you?" Sam just stepped right past me, staring at the couch where Chloe sat. Turned out that I was right about one of those names, but I wasn't even satisfied to find that out.

"Nothing is wrong with me, he's the one who was all freaked out for no damn reason." She snapped back, crossing her arms over her chest. I was shocked by how easy the words came to her lips. Chloe was definitely more like Jocelyn than I predicted, because she somehow managed to sound exactly like her in that moment.

"Throwing yourself at guys isn't going to get you anywhere." Sam was more pissed off than I was, or at least, more open about his anger. I wasn't entirely sure what I was supposed to do or say. Thinking about the feeling of her breath on my neck, then her unwanted lips on my cheek, caused another shudder to crawl up my spine. "You can't just expect that every guy wants you to do that."

She seemed frustrated by his words, shrugging her shoulders. "I didn't know he wouldn't want that. I've never met a guy who didn't."

"You've never met a guy who admitted it." Watching them go back and forth caused my eyes to flit between the two. The more I did so, the more I noticed how similar in appearance they were. The same waves in their hair, Sam's only a bit brighter. The same sharp jawline and hooded eyes. My brow furrowed.

The music was too loud, and every few seconds it seemed that someone accidentally bumped into either Sam or me. Chloe just kept to her spot on the couch, annoyed eyes gazing up at us. "You don't have to be such a dick about it."

"I think I do, you never take a damn hint." He was getting more upset by the second. There was clearly some deep-seeded rage burning inside of him like a steadily growing wildfire. I could sense the history between them, though I wasn't sure what. All I knew was that they looked too similar for it to be a coincidence.

"It's not like he told me to stop."

"You didn't give him a chance!"

"What are you so heated about anyway?" Chloe stood up, looking pointedly at him. "You know I think he's hot, and I know you hate him, so what's it matter? Since when do you care about Sawyer?"

"Since we've had this conversation before!" His knuckles turned white as he clutched at nothing. I felt like I was starting to impede on an argument not meant for my ears. "You're not entitled to everything you want in life, people most of all."

"Here we go again." She huffed, placing a hand on her hip and casting her eyes to the side.

"Here we go again? Are you serious—"

His words ended abruptly as I lightly tapped his arm. He looked at me with worry hidden behind his anger. "I'm going to get some air." I told him. Not only did I feel like I was listening to an argument not meant for my ears, but I also felt a bit like I was going to suffocate in the heat of everyone around us.

"Okay. The front will be less crowded." He nodded. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away.

At least he didn't think that I wanted Chloe to kiss me, because that would have been a whole other problem to add to the list. When I finally reached the front door through the growing crowd of drunk people, I pushed my way outside.

It was an instant relief to feel the cold air on my face. The sky was pitch black, hiding the stars protectively away behind thick hoards of darkness. I was glad though, because it would have been even colder otherwise. As far as I could see, there was only a group of three people standing way off to the right side of the yard as they talked animatedly.

I walked off of the porch and turned to the left. It was empty over there, so I went around the thick bushes that were probably filled with flowers during the spring and summer. Once they came to an end, I found a cozy spot in the grass against the house to take a seat out of everyone's view. The music was a distant hum from where I was, and I closed my eyes.

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