Wanting Winter(33)

I must have been really drunk for him to put me to bed with my dress still on.

Taking it off and putting it in the hamper, I turn the shower on boiling hot, and, waiting for that to heat up, I look in the mirror. I look like a panda with big black eyes, and my hair looks like I had a fight with a cat.

Stepping into the shower, I let the water hit me as I lean against the wall for support and after washing my body and hair, I come out feeling a little better. I brush my teeth twice and walk in the living room in just my towel. Instantly smelling coffee and food, I see Candice putting plates of pancakes and bacon on the dining table and glasses of juice.

“Morning, thought I’d make breakfast as you let me stay last night,” she says, heading back to the kitchen bringing out mugs of coffee.

I take a seat, my stomach grumbling. I am weird when I’m hungover. People get sick smelling and looking at food. Me? I could eat a horse, a cow, and every animal on a farm.

“That is so sweet of you; you are the bestest friend in the world.” I start digging in. “I am so sorry about last night. How drunk was I? How did I get home?” The last bit of the night is a little blurry.

“You passed out.” She chuckles but it seemed a little forced. “Drake carried you home and into bed.”

I look up surprised. “Where was Trent?” I notice her cheeks flush a little.

“He was a little drunk also, so he was in no state to carry you—safety and all that.”

At least I wasn’t the only drunk one.

“It was a good night last night, well from what I can remember, minus the little spat because I kicked your ass in dancing,” I laugh. “We have to go out next weekend.” I take a drink of my orange juice, feeling so much better.

“Yeah, maybe,” she says sipping her coffee, and looking like she is in her own world.

“I didn’t embarrass myself, did I?”

“No, you were fine,” she reassures me.

I am finishing off my plate when I hear my phone alerting me that I have a message and I go to the coffee table where my phone is, smiling that it’s from Trent.

“That Trent?” she asks.

I nod.

“What’s he saying?” She sips her coffee.

“He is asking how I’m feeling and that he wants to wine and dine me tonight,” I say with giddiness.

“That’s nice,” she says, looking into her coffee cup. “He really does like you, doesn’t he?” She looks at me.

I take hold of her hand and she looks at me with an emotion I can’t decipher. “Hey, you are still my best friend; nothing will change that,” I reassure her.

“I know that.”

“I do like him, Candice, and yeah I hope he likes me as much as I do him. He’s different, y’know. When I’m around him, I don’t feel like the Ice Queen on campus; I feel like I’m a teenager all over again.” I sigh.

“I know. I’m happy for you,” she says before standing, taking her half-eaten food into the kitchen. When she comes back, she is looking at her phone, texting someone. “I’d better head out. Fill me in about your date when you get a chance away from lover boy.” She hugs me and leaves.

I eat the rest of my breakfast and decide to spend the morning on the couch to chill. I still feel out of sorts and I want to be refreshed when it’s time for my special date.





Trent


I woke up at the crack of dawn, my head a mess. I tried clearing my thoughts by going for a very long run, but it didn’t do any good.

I just thought more and more.

Drake knows, and I know Candice was bluffing about telling Winter, so I’m free from the blackmail, from her, unless my best friend decides to use it against me, but I know he isn’t the type to do something like that.

I’ve made my choice.

I sit on the bench at the park a few blocks away from the apartment complex, waiting for Candice to meet me. I need to tell her where we stand. I look up when I sense her coming and she looks different, her face is fresh from makeup, making her look younger, more vulnerable. She gives me a small smile before sitting, tucking her hair behind her ear before facing me.

“You spoke to Drake this morning?” she asks, and I shake my head. “I bet you really hate me.”

I can feel her looking at me, but I’m looking to the ground.

A part of me does hate her, hates how she used me as her sex toy, but another part—one that has grown over the last couple of days—is turned on by her. “I need to ask you a question and I need you to be honest.” I face her, and she nods slowly. “Why did you do it? Do you hate Winter that much?”

She sighs, shrugging. “I don’t hate Winter; she is the first girl I befriended who isn’t a two-faced bitch. When she ended up having a crush on me, I felt so wanted, so needed. She fell for me, the real me. I liked her looking up to me, and then you came along. I saw the look in her eyes.

“I guess the bitch in me came out. I honestly thought you wouldn’t take my shit and that you would just end it with her. When you didn’t, I ended up enjoying teasing you, messing with your head. But it was the way you got turned on by me. The sex was so good, and I didn’t want it to stop, but deep down I know it’s because I kind of like you too.

“Last night, you could have pushed me away, told me to fuck off, but you felt it: the need. I know now that I have fallen for my best friend’s boyfriend.” She stops, and I look at her surprised.