Broken Juliet(40)

She shakes her head but does it. “You’re going to regret this tomorrow, you know that, right?”

I down the shot and breathe through the burn. “Don’t care. Worth it. More.”

She complies. “What happened with you today? Zoe said you stormed out of acting class. Something about Holt kissing a guy?”

She’s taking too long, so I grab the bottle and drink from it. “Don’t wanna talk ’bout it More booze.”

“No.” She snatches the bottle and holds it out of my reach.

“Ruby!”

“I’m cutting you off until you tell me.”

I wave at her. “Whatever. I’m gonna dance.”

I stagger to the dance floor. The music is loud and bass-y, so I close my eyes and sway to the beat. People surround me. I don’t know who they are. Don’t care. Just wanna feel part of it. Of something.

The beat echoes through me. Of course it does. Noise is more reverberant inside big, hollow spaces.

One song merges into another. Arms wrap around me. Someone nuzzles my neck.

“Hey, beautiful.”

I open my eyes. It’s Nick. We’ve been flirty. Gone out a few times. Shared a couple of mediocre kisses and some light groping.

It never goes any further. My choice, not his.

Why does he keep coming back? Doesn’t he get it by now?

Still, he smells good and keeps me upright, so I sway with him.

He kisses my neck. I shiver, but not in a good way. When I turn around, he cups my face and kisses me. I almost gag. Not because of him, but because the room is spinning.

I pull back and close my eyes. Doesn’t really help.

“Cassie?”

“I’m fine.”

“Really? Because it looks like you’re going to be sick.”

“M’okay.”

“Want me to take you home?”

“No. You go, have fun. I’mma go t’the bathroom.”

“Do you need help?”

“Nope. M’fine.”

I push through the crowd and head toward the hallway but stop short when I see Ethan there, his expression like thunder.

He’s been coming to more and more parties recently. Of course he’d be here tonight. The one night I really didn’t want to see him.

All of my control systems are confused. Malfunctioning. Having him here isn’t helping.

I push past him and stumble to the bathroom. Inside, I just make it to the toilet before most of the tequila makes its way back up.




Ten minutes later I emerge from the bathroom, still drunk, but more in control. Ethan has disappeared. Despite not really wanting to be alone, I don’t feel good, so I find Ruby and tell her I’m leaving.

“Want me to drive you?”

“Nah. I’m gonna walk.”

“Really? It’s cold out there.”

“I want some fresh air. Clear my head.”

“You sure?” Ruby asks. “It’ll take you nearly an hour.”

“I don’t really have anywhere else to be.” Or anyone to be with.

“Okay, but keep your phone in your hand and call me when you get home.”

“K. See you later?”

“Probably not. See that big guy in the corner? He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going to be taking me home tonight.”

“Haven’t you slept with him before?”

“Yep. But he’s definitely worth a repeat performance. Hung like a horse and knows how to ride.”

I laugh and grab my purse. “In that case, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Probably.”

I’m nearly at the front door when a hand closes around my wrist.

“Hey, you’re not leaving?” Nick puts his arms around me, and I can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Why is it that you always seem to be running away from me, Cassie Taylor?”

I sigh, too tired to pretend. “Not running. Just going home.”

“Let me drive you. I could … come in. Tuck you into bed.” His tone suggests he has a little more on his mind than just tucking, although it rhymes with it.

“Not tonight, Nick.” Or ever. Despite his physical hotness, I’m completely disinterested. “I’m wiped. Seriously.”

He sighs and leans his forehead against mine. “Okay, fine. But at least kiss me good-night.”

“Probably not the best idea. I vomited a little while ago.”

“Your breath smells minty.”

“Well, yeah, I rinsed with mouthwash, but still—”

“Good enough for me.”

He kisses me, and even though I’m not really into it, I try to kiss him back. I don’t really understand why he doesn’t arouse me. He’s nice enough. Handsome. Decent kisser. Good sense of humor. But no matter how hard I try to feel it, there’s just nothing there.

When I’m with Nick, it always feels like there’s a tiny Ethan sitting on my shoulder whispering, “It doesn’t matter how similar we look. He’s not me. He’ll never compare to me. Give up now and accept that for the rest of your romantic life, no one is even going to come close to making you feel what I could.” The sad thing is, I know that tiny shoulder-sitting Satan-Holt is right. And it depresses the hell out of me.