Out of Breath (Breathing, #3)(4)

‘New year, trying new things,’ I explained dismissively, holding up my cup.

She grinned and tapped it. ‘To trying new things!’ As Peyton took a sip, I opted to drain the contents of my cup, needing the effects to kick in sooner rather than later. After all, it was the reason I was here.

‘Em!’ Peyton scolded. ‘I know it doesn’t taste like it, but there’s a lot of alcohol in there. You may want to pace yourself.’

I shrugged and grabbed another before we entered the tent crammed with bodies. We made our way to the stage where a band was performing, drowning out any possibility of a conversation – which was fine by me.

‘Hey!’ Peyton hollered, recognizing a tall guy with wavy brown hair dressed in typical college plaid.

‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ Plaid Guy replied.

‘I told you I was coming,’ she returned playfully. She turned towards me and said, ‘Tom, this is Emma, the room-mate you haven’t met yet.’

‘Wow,’ Tom said. ‘I can’t believe you’re actually here.’

I feigned a smile, wondering what Peyton had told him about me. I could only guess.

‘And this is Cole,’ Tom said, directing my attention to a blond guy with broad shoulders standing next to him.

‘Hi,’ Cole responded with a nod and slight smile. Peyton elbowed me. I ignored her and barely nodded in return, taking a sip out of my cup instead.

Insistent, Peyton grabbed Tom’s arm and said, ‘I need another drink.’ Tom eyed her full cup in confusion, but let Peyton drag him away. I glared at her as she smirked back at me.

‘Having a good time?’ Cole yelled over the screeching coming from the stage. He didn’t appear concerned about the forced pairing. I cupped my ear to indicate I couldn’t hear him. Instead of repeating the question, he bent down and said, ‘I was beginning to wonder if you were real. I kept hearing about you, but I’ve never actually seen you out.’ I leaned back, not wanting to encourage him to get so close, and began scanning the crowd around us. ‘Don’t say much, huh?’

I shook my head and took another large gulp of my drink to drown the inferno still burning beneath the surface. Why had I thought coming to this party was a good idea?

You’re amazing.

What did I do?

Just you, everything about you – you’re amazing,

My back straightened, the clarity of the voices invading my head. Images of the last New Year’s party I’d attended threatened to surface, and I swallowed them down with another sip.

‘Are you going to say anything at all?’ Cole asked, pulling me out of the painful remembrance of being wrapped in Evan’s arms while watching fireworks explode overhead.

‘Huh?’ I finally looked up at him. ‘What would you like me to say?’ I challenged.

‘Well, that was a start,’ he taunted, not fazed by my rudeness. ‘You go to Stanford?’

I nodded my head, then caught myself when he accusingly widened his eyes. ‘Yes,’ I stressed. ‘And you?’

‘Yeah, I’m a junior,’ he answered.

‘Sophomore,’ I responded, pointing to myself. I pre-empted the next predictable question: ‘Pre-medical.’

He appeared impressed. ‘Business.’ I nodded in return. ‘Do you play soccer with Peyton?’

I sighed, and took another gulp, not loving the mundane exchange. ‘Yup. Are you on a team?’

‘No. I played lacrosse in high school, but nothing here.’

I didn’t come to the party for small talk or to get to know someone new. I needed to get away from this guy. And I really didn’t care what he thought of me. I swallowed the last mouthful of the drink.

‘I need another,’ I announced. ‘I’ll see you around.’ I turned and walked away before he could respond, dodging through the crowd in search of the drink table. The band stopped to take a break, and a DJ started, igniting a movement of dancing energy towards the small stage.

I was still feeling too much. I’d never drunk more than a couple of sips before, so I didn’t know how long it would be before it took effect. I also had no idea how it would feel when it finally did. My mother turned to alcohol to numb her pain, and even though I swore that I’d never drink, there was only so much a person could endure before breaking that promise. And I didn’t want to be in pain any more.

I squeezed through the crowd towards the far side of the tent, where a table was lined with filled cups.

‘Need a drink?’ a voice asked close to my ear.

I turned to find a guy with a thin, muscular frame, a mop of black hair, and a dark line of facial hair down the centre of his chin. From the tattoo behind his ear that crept down his neck and the few guys with similar attire of Tshirts and ripped jeans, I deduced that he was with the band.

‘Are you talking to me?’

‘Yeah,’ he replied with a cocky grin. ‘I’m Gev. I noticed your empty cup and thought I could help you out.’

‘Well, you don’t have a cup at all, so maybe I should be helping you out.’

He laughed, but I left him and kept walking towards the table. When I turned back I had two cups in my hands. He stopped short and smiled when I offered him one.

‘I like your name. It’s different.’