Ruin(8)

“What?”
“You need help.”
Gabe nodded his agreement.
“Guys, I’m not Cinderella.”
Smirking, Gabe leaned in and murmured, “Drop your shoe, I dare you.”
“Ohhh, he wants to pick up your shoe.” Lisa joked.
“It’s a boot,” I clarified, lifting my foot to show off the shiny black leather.
“Either or.” Gabe gave a flirty shrug. “And clothes or no clothes, you’re still hot, but if I were you, and I had Weston–freaking-Michels panting after me, I’d make him work for it.”
“I, uh…” Playing with my long ponytail, I looked in the mirror. They were right. I looked Amish. I used to be into fashion, but lately things just seemed semi-pointless. At least I was eating and showering — not that Gabe and Lisa needed to know that. It was a giant feat for me to be able to take care of myself.
“Fine.” I rolled my eyes “I’ll wear a different shirt, but that’s where I draw the line.”
Lisa grinned and clapped her hands. “Deal!”
Ten minutes later and I was really doubting my ability to appear normal. The shirt she’d given me didn’t meet the top of my jeans. In fact, there was a good two inches of skin showing. I’d tried to hunch over but then Gabe started calling me Quasimodo, which made me second-guess the whole humpback look.
The party was being held at the main lobby. Things couldn’t get that out of hand, right? I mean, it was a school-sanctioned party. It wasn’t as if they’d have drugs and alcohol or anything.
Uncle Jo had warned me about mixing alcohol with my prescription. Apparently it made people get drunk like twice as fast. Meaning, if I took one drink I’d be dancing around the lobby with a lampshade on my head. Well, at least I wouldn’t be self-conscious about my short shirt anymore.
The minute we walked into the lobby, people stared. It wasn’t the type of stare you got when you had food in your teeth, more like, a curious stare. Maybe it was Gabe. I stood closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around me and Lisa.
“This happens a lot with Gabe.” Lisa laughed and landed a mock-punch to his biceps. “People can’t figure out if he’s hot or just deranged.”
“Thanks, Lisa.” Gabe’s eyes narrowed in her direction then he whispered in my ear, “But for the record, I’m just hot.”
“Of course you are,” I said patronizingly.
He threw his head back and laughed. I didn’t think I could ever be attracted to him, but something about him seemed comfortable, like if I asked him to drive me the four hours home to Bickelton in the middle of the night, he’d say okay and buy me coffee while he was at it. I’d never really had a friend like that before. It was nice.
“So…” Lisa’s gaze scanned the crowd. “Where is he?”
“Your mystery man for the night?” Gabe asked as he walked over to the punch and got us each a cup.
“No.” Lisa’s eyes continued to dart around the room. “Weston. Where is he? He’s the RA, so he has to be here—”
“Do I?” a smooth voice said from behind us. “See, I thought I just had to make an appearance. I didn’t think anyone would actually be searching me out.”
Other than the music pounding through the sound system, it was quiet. I could tell people were trying to hear what he was saying as they edged toward our little group.
He all but ignored Lisa and Gabe. His eyes focused only on mine. “You came.”
“I was forced.”
“Coerced.” Lisa rolled her eyes.
Gabe watched the exchange with open amusement.
Weston was still staring.
Apparently having enough of the awkwardness, Gabe moved me to the side and held out his hand to Weston. “We think she’s homeschool, it’s why she doesn’t talk.” He pointed back to me. I could feel my face heat to five hundred degrees. “But she’s cute as hell so we keep her around. This one is my cousin.” He pointed to Lisa. “And I’m pretty sure you and I had a KI class together.”
Weston’s eyes left mine and landed on Gabe. Nodding, he shook his hand firmly. “Yeah, I think it was archery.”
“Best class ever.” Gabe sighed.
“Ah, now I remember.” Weston laughed. “You’re the guy who shot the professor in the ass with the arrow.”
“She turned me down.” Gabe shrugged.
“Sexual harassment.” Lisa fake-coughed.
Waving her off, Gabe continued talking. “How’s practice going?”
“He’s talking football,” Lisa whispered. “Shh, it’s like watching a baby turtle trying to find the ocean. He’s either going to get eaten because he knows shit about sports, or he’s going to swim free into the ocean and discover he’s a real boy.”
“It’s good.” Weston ignored us. “You know how practice is, brutal. But it’s going to be a good season.”
“You think you’ll get a bowl this year?” Gabe asked, sounding genuinely interested.
“Good Lord the turtle made it!” Lisa whispered in my ear.
“Yeah.” Weston’s eyes flickered to mine before he nodded at Gabe. “Coach is hoping for the championship. After the loss last year to Oregon, we kind of want to redeem ourselves.”
“Tell me about it.” Gabe sighed. “I hate the Ducks.”
“Green and yellow, green and yellow,” Lisa sang behind him.
“I will think nothing about punching you in the face if you sing that again.” Gabe swore.