Someone to Love(98)
Bodies cram into the boxy fraternity, overwrought with blaring music and bimbos. Alpha Sigma Phi holds the slight scent of used socks and beer much like Pennington himself, and speak of the devil…
His hair glints in the light, shorn a little too close to his head, but he’s still safely tucked in his polo with the collar upturned, a white sweater lies tied over his shoulders, ensuring no one mistakes him for a gangbanger anytime soon.
“I hear my dad has this thing for your mom.” He nods as if it were everyday people left, cheated—staggered into new relationships like drunken toddlers.
“I wouldn’t know. How’s your mom?”
“Busy”—he looks as though he could puke on demand—“with the pool boy.”
“Ouch. Sorry.”
“It’s all right. I’m sure it’ll be the box boy next week. She likes ’em young. Divorce is final in less than a month. So I guess there’ll be a celebration. You down for that?”
“Celebrating the end of a relationship? Sounds horrible.”
“You’re right.” Pen bows his head for a moment, and I reach over and hug him. I hold Pen a lot longer than anticipated until his chest heave beneath me. “I better take off. I see a skirt with my name on it,” he whispers, drifting into the crowd.
It’s only then I notice Ally’s gone, too.
I glance up, and a familiar-looking Adonis lights up the room from across the way.
He’s here. He’s coming in this direction, and everything in me wants to run but my body solidifies. The room warps, the music drags, and I feel-lightheaded as if I might pass out, right on the spot.
I spin around and look for someone to talk to, anybody…and there she is—Blair. I’d like to “talk” to her all right, with the working end of a sawed off shotgun. On second thought, she wasn’t too far off the mark. In fact, she was dead-on the bull’s-eye—Cruise was never that into me.
I take off into the crowd.
A swarm of girls coo as he fast approaches, and an entire demonic chant breaks out offering homage to Professor Elton.
“He’s got a rash on his balls the size of Wyoming,” I say, moving swiftly past their circle.
“Kenny,” he shouts over the music, but I pretend not to hear. Stupidly, I land myself in a corner near the refreshment table laden with an emphasis on booze and hard liquor. Something tells me I’ll need all the liquor I can get my hands on to wash this entire night—semester out of my memory, at least temporarily.
Ally was wrong. This stupid party is the last place I “need” to be.
I spin toward the door and bump into a brick wall of a chest.
He’s wearing a white T-shirt and jeans, my all-time favorite combo. He’s got a baseball cap pulled low over his head, and his dimples invert into twin black pools.
“Coke or Pepsi?” Cruise gives a playful smile, but there’s sorrow layered just beneath.
“I believe what you really want to ask is, in or out.” I peg him with a hard look because he’s never getting “in” again. “We both know damn well your only goal in life is getting laid. I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding an entire herd of girls willing to give it up for you.” And most of those at the same time.
Cruise softens. A marked sadness takes over his features as his chest pumps with an increased volume.
“I don’t want a herd of girls.” He swallows hard. “I only want you, Kenny.”
“Bullshit.” I race to get past him, but he catches me by the wrist. “Let go.”
“Not until we talk.” His eyes glow in this dim light and afford him an animalistic quality, too divinely exotic to ever be human. Just bearing witness to his flawless brand of beauty hurts me even deeper. I was just a joke to him, nothing but a notch on his bedpost.
“I’m not above biting, so kindly let the fuck go.” I belt the words out so loud, ten different heads turn in our direction.
Cruise holds his hands in the air like it’s a stickup.
“I’m done talking and listening.” I meant to scream it, but in truth, I’m losing steam. I see how handsome he is, that sweetness buried beneath the surface percolating, and I can’t believe we were nothing but a lie.
From over his shoulder I catch Blair gleam a wicked smile. She wraps herself in my misery like a fur-lined coat, a lush experience at my expense, supple to the touch.
“Kenny, we can work through this.” He says it so calm and solid it almost makes me believe him.
“There’s nothing to work through because I happen to know for a fact you think I’m repulsive and have ‘daddy issues.’ Oh wait—and that you wish you never asked me to marry you.”