Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
“Are you coming?” he repeats, giving my fingers he’s still holding a gentle squeeze.
“I… I don’t know.” Parties aren’t really my thing. Even growing up with the kids I go to school with, I still feel out of place whenever I’m around them.
“You should come,” he says, and my stomach fills with butterflies and dances with excitement, because he sounds like he really wants me to go.
“I’ll ask my dad,” I finally get out, and his lips tip up into a small smile.
“If he says yes, let me know if you need a ride.”
A ride. Holy cow, my knees shake at the idea of riding in his truck with him.
“Sure.” I grin, trying to keep myself from jumping up and down like a total loon and making a fool out of myself.
“Hopefully you’ll come.” His hold on me tightens ever so slightly before he lets me go.
I don’t say anything else, because I’m not sure I can talk. Instead, I turn and rush to say goodbye to his parents before getting in my dad’s truck, where Shel and I spend the drive home convincing my dad to let me go to the party.
_______________
Looking around the crowded living room, I wonder why I came and why I can’t seem to be like the rest of the people here. My classmates all seem relaxed, and judging by the laughing and joking, they’re having a good time. Then there’s me, hanging in the darkest corner of the room in an attempt to be invisible. I lean back against the wall behind me and hold the beer I was given when I made it here closer to my stomach. It’s still full. I tried to drink it when it was handed to me, but the second the taste hit my tongue, I wanted to spit it out on the floor. I never had a drink until tonight, not even a sip of my dad’s beer or Shelby’s wine. I now know that beer is gross—actually, really gross. Maybe if it wasn’t warm it wouldn’t be so bad, but that’s doubtful.
“Are you okay?” Gabe, who I asked to come with me, questions, coming up to my side.
I turn my head and look at him. “Yeah.”
“Liar.” He knocks his shoulder into mine and I press my lips together to keep from smiling. I roll my eyes at him when he grins. Gabe is taller than me, but not by much, and lean from swimming everyday at the local indoor swimming pool. He’s cute with blond hair that has a hint of red in it, and blue eyes that are always smiling. Unlike me, Gabe doesn’t have an issue with talking to people and making friends. Still, he never pressures me to hang out with anyone else, because he knows it makes me feel awkward. When he leans back against the wall next to me, I scan the room, wondering if I should just call Shelby to come pick me up, since I haven’t seen Denver since I got here.
I turn to tell Gabe that I’m going to leave, but stop when my stomach starts to dance. I turn my head in the opposite direction, and when I do, my heart starts to speed up. “Hey,” Denver greets me with a small smile.
“Hi.” I smile back, and his eyes soften, making the butterflies in my stomach dance and flip.
He looks over at Gabe and lifts his chin in that cool way guys do before his eyes come back to me. “I’m glad you came.”
I swear I feel his fingers brush mine against my stomach and my heart thumps even harder.
“Denver, get your ass over here!” someone shouts, and he looks in the direction of the kitchen, his jaw going hard.
“Christ, they’re already wasted.” He looks back at me and shakes his head, seeming annoyed. “Will you be here for a while?” he asks as the group of people in the kitchen start chanting for him to join them.
“Probably.” I shift from foot to foot. I really don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to stick around, not with how out of place I feel.
“Don’t leave before we can talk.”
“I—”
“Please,” he adds, and hearing the softness in his tone, I nod. “Good.”
This time I know I feel his fingers skim gently across mine before he gives Gabe another chin lift and turns to walk across the room toward the kitchen. My stomach feels funny as I watch his friends greet him with hoots and body jolting pounds on the back. Unlike me, he fits in; he always has.
Why am I here? Why did he want me to come, and what does he want to talk to me about?
“Do you want to go hang outside?” Gabe asks, and I pull my eyes from Denver to look at him.
“Yeah.”
“Come on.” He takes my hand in his and leads me through the crowded house to the back door. “Better?” he questions once we’re standing outside on the back wooden deck under the star-filled night.