Page 12

NOEL

The party is loud.

The house we pull up to is another extravagant, overly large home in the same neighborhood as Ace.

The bass is thumping; there's girls screaming and people talking over the music. I'm so out of my comfort zone here, but I can't bail out now.

I really hope I don't get overstimulated and have a meltdown.

“Ain't no party like a private school party,” Ace remarks, showing me around. My anxiety is at level get the fuck out already. Ace turns to look at me as we walk through the house and can tell something is up with me.

“Hey, Noel, let's get some drinks to help loosen you up, kay? I promise I won't leave your side. This will be fun. And if you really hate it, I'll take you home.”

I nod at him with a jerk of my head, eyes bouncing around at all the noisy excitement. I take a deep breath and follow him to the kitchen, where he rummages in a bunch of cabinets, finds what he's looking for, and pours a shot for us in two tiny glasses with a picture of boobs on the front. “Ugh, tits. So not my jam, but bottoms up!” He hands me one, and I watch him toss his back. I copy him, turning up and swallowing back the nastiest tasting drink I've ever had. Fuck it burns. I cough, nose flaming because I think some of it got in my nasal cavity.

Ace giggles and slaps my back gently. “The first time you'll always remember. One more?” He pours us another shot, and we toss them back. I'm more hesitant to do so the second time, but if it gets me tipsy enough to ease my social anxiety, then I'm all for it. We people watch for a minute or so, Ace making little comments about what everyone is wearing or the music that's playing, and I even manage to smile, joining in with his observations. A few friends of his come over to chat, but they move along quickly. Ace is sticking beside me so I'm not alone, and I find that he is incredibly popular. The only two girls that I know from fencing club approach us and strike up a conversation.

“Hey, you two!” River greets us with a big smile. Her blue hair is up in pigtails today. Ace hugs her. I notice they're the same height.

“Riv! What's up?”

“You both look amazing! Noel, right?”

I nod and say hello. I haven't had a conversation with her before, but she seems nice. The taller girl, Zara, has her arms crossed, looking every bit as uncomfortable as I do with being here. I nod at her, and she blinks once. “Hey.”

River rolls her eyes. “Zara bear is mad at me, guys.”

Ace snorts. “What’d you do this time?”

Zara glares at River. “She just let a guy pour a shot into her mouth in a way that was not appropriate.”

“It was a normal—”

“You were on your knees for him!” Zara yells, making River wince. She sighs and turns, grabbing Zara's face with both hands. Zara keeps her eyes on the ceiling, clearly pissed off.

“I'm sorry, baby, I didn't know it'd hurt your feelings… forgive me, please?” River blinks long, dark lashes at her. It must work because Zara relents easily, gripping her waist. She pulls her into a heated kiss and they go at each other with passion.

I turn to Ace, who's smirking. “I think they worked it out.”

“Seems like it.”

“We should give them privacy. They'll be at it for a while.” Ace ushers me away, towards the kitchen.

“Hey, Ace?”

“What's up?”

“Thanks for tonight.”

Ace smiles, placing a hand on my shoulder. “It was nothing. Actually, that part was fun for me; we should do that again. I like playing dress up.” We have another drink, choosing beer that’s more tolerable than straight tequila this time—and after we finish that, he nudges my shoulder with his own. “Wanna dance?”

“Oh… I don't really—”

“Just pretend it's you and I back at your house, enjoying the music. Pleeeeease?”

I huff a laugh. “I've never danced in public before.”

“Well, it's senior year, right? and you thought being friends with me looked kind of… interesting, right?” Ace grabs both my hands and pulls me to the crowded dance floor, which is really a living room with the couches shoved against the wall, opening up the space to a large number of students. “So, try doing this with me. You won’t regret it!”

All the alcohol has me relaxing in a way I'm only used to when I'm home alone. When I'm able to unmask and just be myself. Ace feels like a safe person to be around, and his energy helps make it all fun. In this type of setting, I'd usually be a freaking mess, nervous and anxious with all the people and the noises, overstimulated, and on the verge of a panic attack.

But not right now.

Right now, I'm feeling good. Better than good.

The song over the sound system isn't too loud or overstimulating; its thumping bass reverberates through my body in a rhythmic beat. The bodies around us don't bother me as much with their shoulders bumping into mine, confining my space. I let loose a little. Ace laughs, dancing to the beat with a shake of his hips, and I follow his moves, hesitantly, watching every detail of his body to imitate. I move my hips slowly, shoulders loosening up as I let the music guide my drunken limbs.

I must not look too awful because Ace blinks those big owl eyes at me, a smile growing on his lips. He nods approvingly. “Okay, that's what I'm talking about!”

Levi shows up behind Ace, tapping his shoulder, and he whips around with a big grin, still holding my hands while we move to the music together. He places my hands on his shoulders, and I cross my arms around him as if I'm hugging him from behind.

“What's up?” he asks Levi.

Levi looks over Ace's head to give me a weird look, eyes dark. “Is that makeup? Really, Ace?”

I throw up two middle fingers with a grin and feel Ace chuckle. I think the shots fucked with my eyesight because he looks momentarily shocked then impressed. “Didn't know Noel danced,” he says. Ace turns back around in my arms so his front is against me.

“Neither did I, but he can surely move his body.” Ace wiggles his hips suggestively, arms up over my shoulders.

“Levi! Be my beer pong partner!” Grady pops in our little circle, and his eyes widen when he sees me. “Holy shit, Noel ?” His eyes roam my body. “Damn, the goth/grunge look is sexy on you.” He nods repeatedly, and I actually laugh.

“Thanks. Courtesy of Ace.”

“Niiiiice,” he drags the word out with a smile and does a funny dance move, joining us. He slaps Ace's butt and moves behind him while Ace grabs the back of his head, still moving against my front.

Levi grabs Grady by the wrist, pulling him away. “C'mon, you need a pong partner; don't get distracted.” He tugs Grady away while Grady smiles at us.

“See you in a bit!” They disappear in the crowd.

“How are you feeling?” Ace checks my eyes imploringly.

“I'm good,” I yell back, grinning. He laughs at my expression.

“More drinks!” Ace shouts, grabbing my hand to pull me away from the dancing bodies.

We head back to the kitchen, take another shot of something that feels warm going down, and then he grabs two red solo cups, pouring us something that doesn't taste the best, but at least it doesn't burn my throat.

I'm feeling really good at this point, which is why I grab Ace's hand and pull him back to the dancefloor. It's so packed we can hardly fit, so Ace leads us to the dining room area where other students are spread out, talking and dancing. Everyone cheers when the person in charge of music starts a new song, and they raise their hands in a salute while throwing red cups. Its fucking insane.

“I love this song!” Ace exclaims, a wild look in his drunken eyes. Everyone around us starts to sing along, getting hyped up with the rising tempo, and Ace pulls me forward to the dining table, where he proceeds to climb up on the tabletop.

Laughing, I follow him up without a pause because I'm drunk, happy, and want to keep feeling this high all night. We're the only two up here, but I can tell it's sturdier than the average dining table. This one could seat fourteen people easily and looks like oak wood. Even in my inebriated state, I can decipher a well-made piece of furniture.

Ace sings, jiggling and thrusting while he dances in front of me, drinking from his red cup. I finish mine before he does, tossing it to the floor. The bass shakes the house and I recognize the song, something easy to dance to. I seem to do it well when I get whoops and hollers from the growing crowd screaming, “Take it off! Take it off!”

Ace looks shocked as I rock my hips, taking the flimsy fabric of my shirt at the hem and lifting it over my abs in a slow display.

“Oh shit.” Ace laughs while staring at my exposed skin, his eyes wide open.

There's whoops and hollers all around us over the music. “Look at those muscles!” A girl screams below us.

“Take off your pants, too!” another girl screams with a fit of giggles.

I sway my body to the beat as I lift my shirt off over my head and drop it over someone in the crowd. They scream in excitement, jumping with their hands in the air.

I lower to my knees and gyrate my hips while pushing back my hair that's now all in my face. The screaming gets louder over the music. Some are still singing along to the song, like Ace is.

The room is packed full, the crowd spilling from the living room into the dining area, and their eyes are on us.

Ace moves his hands and body on mine in a sexual way before walking to the edge of the table, turning his back to the crowd and spreading his legs wide open, bending forward like he's going to touch his feet while shaking his ass. It gets everyone rowdy. We have everyone's undivided attention, and for whatever reason it doesn't bother me. I'm just the right amount of drunk to not care about the eye contact, or the fact I'm half naked dancing with Ace like we’re in a music video.

He straightens up, laughing while chugging back his cup.

When three girls hop up to join us, I decide to bow out, not wanting to break the table. It could probably handle more weight, but I don't want to risk it.

Before I can tell Ace I'm getting off, I get pulled by my arm and almost fall over.

Through the haze and dizziness, I make out who’s holding my arm in an iron grip.

His eyes are dark, and his mouth is set in an angry line. “Didn't know you were a stripper.”

I blink and jump off the table, stumbling just the tiniest amount when Alex catches me. “Only on weekends, apparently,” I say, loud and slightly slurred. He takes my hand, casually leading me out of the crowded dining room to the oversized kitchen where there's so many cups and bottles strewn about of alcoholic beverages it could be a bar. He lets go before my brain can piece together that he held my hand again. I grab a clear bottle off the countertop and look at its contents with a squint.

Half empty Vodka.

I bring the bottle to my lips and swig.

The liquid feels fucking hot. I take another swig, burning my throat with the taste of pure hellfire. Alex grabs the bottle from my hand and gives me a stern glare, pointer finger flexing out to scold me.

“Hey, drunk boy.” He snaps his other hand in my face. “Alcohol kills. Why are you so intent on getting wasted tonight? This isn't like you.” He sets the vodka on the counter, opens the fridge, and pulls out an unopened water bottle, shoving it at my bare chest.

“Ace and I were dancing. It escalated from there.” I lean back on the island and focus on unscrewing the top, chugging back half the bottle. Alex watches me, his eyes traveling from my throat down to my chest and stomach.

“You're not wearing your usual get up.”

“I was Cin-der-ella-d,” I attempt to say, unsuccessfully. I sound stupidly drunk.

“The fuck does that mean?”

“It means Ace gave me a makeover tonight.” Well, I managed to get that out without slurring. Totally a win. I huff a laugh, and the room spins a little. The shots of tequila mixed with all the beer I had are working their way through my system. Well, and the shit I just chugged before Alex took it from me. I am drunk.

“You look like a drunk whore,” he says dryly, giving me a slow perusal, and I snort at his rudeness.

“An expensive one, I hope,” I mutter. I would usually blush at his harsh retorts, but I'm not reacting how I usually do. Alcohol has sufficiently altered my brain process.

I catch myself staring at Alex too intensely as I think over his statement, not really caring about the insult, only that he looked me up and down, almost like he was checking me out.

At my naked chest and tight pants.

That makes me smile.

I can feel his annoyance in the way he slants his eyes and his mouth in an unamused line.

“Noel!”

I turn and spot a girl holding my shirt that I threw off from dancing. She offers it to me, and I take it gratefully.

“Oh, thanks.”

She grins and laughs, although I'm not sure what's so funny. “That was really hot. Do you… want to hang out a bit?”

My gaze immediately shoots over to where Alex is watching me with furrowed brows and tight lips. “Fuck off, Barbie. He's drunk.”

“Eat a dick, Alex.”

“Pull yours out. No wait, on second thought, little weiners don't interest me. Sorry, Barbie!”

Barbie's jaw drops before her face flames red. “What?” she yells and looks at me like I'm supposed to do something.

I shrug.

“Ugh. I hate high school boys,” she mutters and walks off.

“I've never even talked to Barbie before. Why would she want to hang out?”

Alex smirks while rubbing his jaw. “Her name is Samantha.”

I blink, not understanding. “Then why did you—?”

“Put your shirt back on or else there'll be more Barbie's asking you to hang out.”

“Um. Okay?” I pull the sheer shirt over my head, tugging the material over my chest and stomach, while I watch Alex glare at me. His eyes never leave mine.

Tonight, he's wearing a long-sleeved black shirt and fitted jeans like me, but he looks so much better than I do. His hair is in disarray but still looks put together. His metal piercings in his ear are shiny, begging for someone to yank at them. But not me, no. Yanking ears is an odd thing to do. Why am I even thinking about this?

I'm also just realizing I know way too much about his ears. Like, there used to be three holes on his lobe and one at his cartilage, but recently he's sporting another tiny metal hoop through the top. There's also a metal bar through the top connecting to the side, something called an industrial piercing. I shamelessly googled it when I saw it the first time, curious about the things Alex had done to his body while in California.

I stare at him drunkenly, taking everything in. His once black eye is now a faint yellow and purple bruise high on his cheekbone.

Alex raises an eyebrow at my obvious staring. “I need a cigarette. Come outside with me.” He doesn't ask, more like demands. I must have gotten used to his way of communicating in the past, however long since he's been back.

I nod, and he spins around to lead us out to the back patio, where there's not many people lingering around. Probably because you can't hear the music back here. It’s also December in Vermont. It's large and has a fire pit that's unlit, so we walk towards the cushioned seating area.

He plops down and pulls out a cigarette carton from his tight pants, taking one from the box. He slides it back in his pants, all the while the cigarette hangs from his mouth. Pulling a lighter out, he flicks it so a tiny flame sparks the end of his cigarette and the entire process is fascinating to me because I rarely see anyone smoke. Or care enough to watch. But Alex has always been the exception. Everything he does fascinates me.

“Having fun tonight?” He blows smoke out and relaxes back into the cushion. I inhale the scent of his distinct cigarette smoke and smile.

“Yeah.” I lean my head back on the headrest and my eyes close. Everything is spinning. “You don't remember me at all, do you?” I whisper, waiting patiently for him to answer. When he doesn't, I crack my eyes open and face him.

Alex's apathetic boredom turns my stomach to lead as he blows out more smoke. “What?”

I drop my head back again, looking at the night sky. “Rise like a phoenix from the flames,” I murmur with a disbelieving chuckle and sigh. “Wish we could see the stars tonight.”

In my peripheral, he taps his cigarette butt on the deck. “You're nonsensically chattier when you're drunk.”

There's a long pause while my brain catches up with his words.

“Am not.”

We sit in silence for a few long minutes, me staring at the black sky and him smoking his cigarette.

I realize it's late, and I should get going. My stomach turns thinking about leaving him. There's so much I want to ask him. Nausea rolls in my gut though, and I'll probably throw up soon. Too much alcohol is making this conversation hard to bear.

I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to tell him who I am. But I'm feeling spiteful tonight, wanting to spill my big secret to him.

I wonder if he'll even care when he finds out I was the boy he left behind who missed him terribly. Who thought about him for years after he left? Who one day looked him up on social media to see what he grew up to be?

I never did anything about it when I found his profile picture and clicked on it, nervous that I finally looked. He never posted anything; mostly it was tagged stuff from people he went to school with in California.

After that, I never looked again. Too angry and hurt that he was smiling in a few of the photos, obviously happy with his new friends.

“You're so drunk.”

I turn to face him, swallowing down my nausea.

“Is that all you have to say?”

He gives me a dull look, as if he would rather do anything else but humor me.

“Fuck you, I'm out of here.” I snap my jaw shut, rising, but he grabs my wrist, and I stumble into his lap, dizzy and disoriented. He grips my hips to steady me, but it's too late. I'm body to body, face to face with him. I freeze up. My left leg was on the seat, almost straddling him. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth, keeping it between two fingers.

“Oh, fuck me ?” Alex states coldly, like nothing about me flickers any interest in him at all. He removes a hand from my hip to place on my chin, gripping it with harsh fingers and pulling my face forward even closer to his. He flicks his cigarette away and it lands behind him somewhere in the grass.

“You don't remember me,” I whisper shakily. He doesn't say anything for a long moment but maintains eye contact, which makes me blink away from his deadly, hooded gaze.

He cocks his head slightly to the left. “Noel.”

I gasp at his tone, caught off guard. It's too soft for him. Not playful like he usually says it. Heat floods my cheeks. “Don't say my name like that,” I choke up, looking back at him with a groan. “I'm too drunk for this conversation, and you're too close.”

He breathes out softly, dropping his hand from my jaw. “Does being close like this make you nervous? Why? I thought you don't like boys.”

My breath hitches, the moment too still and quiet between us. His skin feels too warm against mine, my legs widening to accommodate his spread ones below me. Slowly, I lower myself down even more on his lap, relaxing my body.

I don't know why I do it.

Maybe to see how it feels.

Maybe because I'm drunk and making stupid choices tonight.

Before I realize what I'm doing, my hand reaches out to touch his face. He looks surprised and entertained by the motion, mildly curious at my strange behavior.

“Maybe I should have wished for something more.” I'm rambling, too lost in the past, but he still doesn't get it. I pat his cheek with a sigh, chuckling to myself.

At that, he leans his head into my hand like he likes it placed there, and I hear his breath hitch, his eyes softening into something real.

He’s warm in my hand, his eyes clear and focused on me because he isn't drunk like I am.

I blink, and my sanity comes back to me.

Why the fuck am I sitting in Alex's lap right now?!

I jolt back, almost falling backwards, but he helps me right myself.

Alex watches me flounder as he spreads his legs open wide, tilting his head at my weird reaction.

“I'm going home.” I stall without understanding why. Do I want him to stop me from leaving?

Alex reaches into his pocket and grabs another cigarette from his open pack, lighting up again.

“Nice to know. Is that an invitation?”

My throat closes up, and my belly clenches. “I'm just telling you I'm leaving.”

“Bye-bye then,” Alex says, shooing me away nonchalantly with one hand. He doesn't bother looking at me while taking a drag of his second cigarette of the night.

Disappointment strikes me like a sudden bolt of lightning, my chest cracking at his easy dismissal, and I shake my head, strolling back into the large house. I don't pay attention to all the people screaming and dancing around me, but I do spot Levi over by the cooler where he's grabbing a water, so I head that direction and get my name called by a few girls in the dancing crowd.

“Noel! Come dance with us!” A girl in a bright yellow T-shirt yells as she waves at me.

“We can do some shots,” another girl beside her says and shimmies her body so her boobs bounce.

I only notice the boobs because all she has on is a hot pink bra. I shake my head no, politely, and walk away, not wanting to spare them another glance.

“Noel!” I hear Ace call my name and find him in the living room area chatting with a few classmates I don’t know. I walk over to him instead of Levi. “Where have you been? I saw Alex take you away from me, so I didn't go look for you. I hope that was okay?”

I sit on the couch beside him, and he throws his legs over mine. “Yeah, I was outside with Alex while he smoked.”

He hums. “Everything okay?”

I nod stiffly. “Just Alex being Alex.”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“Where’s Grady?”

“Grady is chatting up Mady and her boyfriend, Seo-jun,” he says mysteriously, grinning while leaning back on the sofa. “I think tonight he'll get lucky,” he laughs. “He’s been trying to sweet talk them for months.”

“Right…” I don’t have any idea what he’s talking about, so I nod. “Do you want to get another drink with me?” I ask, not ready to leave yet. The frustration from talking to Alex tonight is making me bold and petty. Why should I leave? He should leave. I was here first. Probably. Anyway, I’m not leaving just because he’s a dick.

“For real? let's go!” Ace yells, and we both stand, making our way to the kitchen. Ace grabs my wrist so we don’t lose one another. “I had four girls come up to me asking about you, by the way. Want me to set you up?”

“I don’t like–” I start to say, but some guy stops us.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” He interrupts, staring daggers at Ace. “Is that fishnet under your jeans?” A few people around us hear that and giggle.

“Fuck around and find out,” Ace croons sweetly. “Your daddy likes it.”

“The fuck you say about my dad?” The guy puffs his chest out and gets up in Ace's face. He whispers something in his ear so low I can't make out the words. Ace blinks, a closed-off expression shuttering over his good mood. I can tell whatever he said wasn’t a compliment, and then he pushes Ace.

Before I can intervene, Alex casually steps past me, easily bypassing the tiny crowd as they mutter their shock at the situation.

A few people step aside when they notice him because Alex demands attention without meaning to. He hovers beside Ace with a glass bottle of whiskey at his side, barely holding on to the lip with long, startlingly pale fingers against all black clothing.

“Homophobic language is so distasteful,” Alex says with a faint chuckle. “Try something else. Maybe something about his height. That's a fun jab.”

The guys’ snarl is ugly on his face as he stares Alex down. “I wasn't talking to you.”

“Oh, but you were.” He points his finger at the guy accusingly, and you can practically see the icy shivers erupt down this guy's arms from Alex's stare.

I blink, not understanding what he means.

Ace laughs like this is the funniest shit ever. “My knight in shining armor!” Whipping his hand up to his forehead, Ace pretends to swoon, making a few people giggle at his dramatics. I think he may be trying to de-escalate the situation with humor.

Alex ignores him, taking a swig of the bottle while he continues to stare blank-faced at the large bully.

“Prissy boy here needs to leave. Prancing around in girly shit like a fucking—”

Alex drops his whiskey right before punching the guy in the face twice, in quick succession, effectively cutting off the homophobic rambling. The crowd gasps and screams out obscenities, rowdy at the scene of violence, while Alex somehow takes the guy to the floor, continuing to punch his face.

“Oh shit! Not good!” Ace gasps.

The guy has blood running down his nose as he tries to shield himself from another hit using his forearms. The boy manages to get an elbow to Alex's face, making Alex's head jolt back, but he grasps his wrist and holds him down. His body pinning him down to the floor. Alex leans over his face and spits.

He actually spits on him.

The guy goes ballistic, thrashing and screaming at Alex to get off. Alex laughs.

It all happens in just a minute or two, but it feels much longer.

Three guys get their hands on Alex, pulling him away from the boy with a struggle. I notice Grady is one of them.

Alex shrugs them all off with a chuckle. “Should have just made fun of his height.” He smirks, looking down at the guy whose face is a bloody mess. “Maybe next time you'll think before you speak.”

“I'm not even that small!” Ace whispers aggressively beside me.

“Mother fucker, you're going to regret that!” The guy screams, going for Alex again, but he's stopped by his friends. There's a divide among sides, his friends keeping him away from Alex, and a few guys making sure Alex doesn't start shit again. I take that as my cue to get him out of here.

“Alex,” I say loudly over all the chatter, trying to get his attention. He barely turns his head, eyes shifting to glare at me sharply. It's all I need to know he's listening. “I'm heading home now. Walk with me?”

“Go, Alex,” Grady commands. “Before this fuckhead calls the cops on you for assault and you get arrested.” Grady seems to tower over the other guys as they help up the asshole who's shielding his crushed nose, whimpering in pain. The party's atmosphere changes, leaving everyone anxious about what could happen next. The guy looks like absolute shit, dripping blood on the wood. Despite a fight breaking out, the party doesn't stop as the music plays from the speakers.

Alex considers Grady’s words without a change in his expression, eyes flickering to Grady, then to the bleeding dude, and back to me, clicking his tongue when he reaches a decision. “Fine.”

“Ace, are you okay?” I turn my attention to find him smiling.

“Well, yeah, I’m not the one who got in a fight.”

I assess his face for any signs of being hurt emotionally. “You want to go home? I can walk with you,” I offer with a gentle tone.

Ace grins and leans forward, placing a quick kiss on my cheek. “Nah, you make sure Alex gets home. I'm going to dance and get wasted.” He winks, and I push his shoulder.

“Alright. I'll, uh… text you tomorrow?” I ask, unsure of whatever friendship we've seemed to have formed tonight and what is allowed. His eyes widen in pleasant surprise before screeching very loudly. I flinch back.

“Yes! Finally!”

I shake my head, giving him an unimpressed glare. “I'm going to go now.” I turn away, the lingering sounds of his giddy laugh making me grin, and I turn back to show him my genuine smile. Focusing back on the broken-up fight, I find that Alex is off to the side of the room being scolded by Grady, the rest of the guests scattering off like it didn't just happen. I don't see the bleeding guy anymore, so I assume he left or is taking care of his wounds in the bathroom.

Not like I actually give a shit about him.

“Ready?” I interrupt Grady. He gives me some kind of intense, meaningful look. Hell if I know what it means. I drop my eyes from the heaviness and turn to Alex, who's already walking off, so I follow. We head towards the back door, and Alex swipes a bottle of alcohol off the kitchen counter, takes a large swig, and continues on.

Once we're outside again and the night air hits my face, I feel a little less nauseous. My head is still fuzzy from the alcohol, and I know I'm not anywhere sober enough to walk in a straight line, but I'm okay.

“We can walk to my house from here.” Alex stands beside me, twisting the top of his bottle and throwing it back with a wince when the vodka irritates the cut on his lip. “Just crash at my place. You're still wasted, aren't you?”

I nod, giving him an annoyed glance. “Yeah.”

He snorts. “Pussy.”

“Fuck you.”

“Let's get you tucked in bed, princess. You've had one too many drinks tonight.”

I shove his shoulder, and it sounds like he chuckles before walking ahead of me, taking the unlit path behind the neighbors' house. His house isn't far from here.

I inhale deeply, the night air feeling nice on my flushed cheeks. I catch up to his easy gait, and then we're side by side, an easy, comfortable silence surrounding us, even though I'm still pissed off at him.

We're on some dirt trail near the lake, and the only light we have to see in front of us is the glowing moon. It casts a reflection on the shimmering Lake Ever Shine and I almost giggle at the absurd, fairytale name for some reason but stop myself when I smile instead.

“Care to share what's so amusing?”

I look at him thoughtfully. My hazy brain makes me tell him the truth. “Lake Evershine.” I snort. Then I start to giggle, and it's like I can't stop after that. I'm laughing at myself like an idiot. Alex looks startled before he joins in, although not so jovially as me.

He chuckles, and it lights up his eyes. They crinkle all adorable at the corners, laugh lines showing on his cheeks.

My laugh trails off as my own cheeks warm.

“It's fucking ridiculous.”

“It fits the neighborhood.”

“Fuck you,” he says with a laugh. We pass four houses before he speaks again. “Do you hate me, Noel?” he asks quietly, and I think he might be drunk.

The question makes me stumble over the terrain. I stop walking, not daring to move or breathe. He stops too. I don't turn my head to look at his face. “No,” I respond before thinking. The alcohol really gives me no filter. “I don't hate you.” My voice shakes, nerves and adrenaline are a heady mix combined with all the alcohol in my gut. “I just wish you'd remember me.”

He pauses. “ Remember you?” he asks slowly, almost mockingly, a laugh rumbling in his chest. “Noel, doe eyes, c'mon, I was like, thirteen when I left Vermont. You think I remember every friend I ever made?”

Whipping my head around to stare at him, my lips part to say something, but nothing comes out. I make a fucking garbled sound as I blink, running a hand through my soft, product-styled hair that feels foreign to the touch. I feel so different tonight, and it's not only because of the alcohol still present in my blood.

It's my clothes, my hair, my attitude. It's all different.

I want to say dumb things. Things that wouldn't make sense to him. I miss our friendship so much. Why did you leave without saying goodbye? Was I really just nobody to you? Do you not remember that night under the stars? Tell me you remember me, Alex. You were my best friend.

And then something clicks—a thought I hadn't had before about my situation.

What if it was all in my head?

Is it because… I felt it all so much more than what it actually was? I do stuff like that sometimes. I hyper-fixate on things and become completely obsessed with them. Like stargazing and anime, although those things are more my special interests. Is it because of my autism that I thought we were close?

Fuck… maybe Alex doesn't remember me because there's nothing to remember.

Maybe I really was just another kid to him.

Nothing special.

I was just his science partner and nothing else.

I breathe in a stuttering breath, my jaw clenching as my throat gets tight.

“Alex, I think… I think this whole time… I may have been too harsh on you for something that wasn't your fault,” I say slowly, in a whisper of hurt. “Can you… just tell me why you left all those years ago?”

He blinks but doesn't respond. After a long moment of ignoring me, he tips his stupid vodka back to gulp down, and just like that, something inside me snaps. Heat unlike anything I've felt before fills me with rage. I lash out, smacking the bottle from his hand, and it goes flying from his loose grasp.

His pale eyebrows raise in surprise while he waits for me to say something, staring at me with his head cocked to the side like I'm an animal in a zoo that he's never seen before. Studying me.

I can feel my entire body shaking, needing some kind of release. Something to expel this anger. Everything that Alex does makes me feel crazy. My emotions get heightened to this boiling point, and I don't know how to handle it. It's like I want to… want to…

“Do it,” he challenges me with a mocking grin.

Does he know what I'm thinking? “Why can't you just answer me?”

“Why answer you when I can infuriate you instead?”

That does it. Using both my hands, I push him as hard as I can, and he falls, going down with me on top of him. I wrap a hand around his throat, pinning him to the grassy patch of ground, and raise a fist with every intention of punching his smug, arrogant fucking face. I pause before actually hitting him, and not because I don't want to. Because I really do.

I stop because there's something in his eyes that shines in awe or fascination. It's something I can't quite grasp. He's looking up at me with tenderness, and it's intimate. I get the feeling he wouldn't care at all if I did punch him. He'd just go along with whatever. His lip is already cut and bleeding from his earlier fight, but why isn't he trying to protect himself? Why isn't he fighting back? Why does he want me to fight him?

“I hate your stupid fucking face!” I yell. The moment stretches as I debate what I'm going to do. My fist is still hovering there, ready to smash his goddamn mouth. His smirking, annoyingly pretty mouth.

“You have stars in your eyes, Noel,” he whispers soothingly, in a gentle rasp that shocks my core.

He's drunk, I'm drunk, and this is all too much.

I exhale roughly, shaking, as I unclench my fist and lower my hand, releasing his neck while still straddling his stomach. My anger dims. In its place is grief, like I'm giving something up for good and letting it go. Hitting Alex doesn't fucking solve anything. It's just going to make me feel bad after. I've never wanted to cause him physical harm. I just… want him to feel bad for leaving me. For forgetting me. Like I was nothing to him.

It's stupid, and I know it is. We were kids. I doubt he had any say in moving. But I can't help it.

I'm angry at him for forgetting me, or even worse, being a kid that back then didn't mean anything to him.

I can't handle it. Hiding behind all the anger is sorrow and devastation. I've been pushing it all down, disguising it with rage and hate.

Because I don't want to uncover what I truly feel for him.

“What? That's it?” He laughs, pulling himself up on his elbows to glare. Our faces are just an inch apart. “You've been dying to hit me; I know you have. And when I give you a freebie, you don't take it? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I go to move off his stomach, but his strong arms pull me back down. Our positions are switched as he pushes me to the ground, back digging into sharp, pointy blades of grass instead. His hand pins my wrists above me, and I'm so shocked by the move that I freeze up for a second, not even attempting to free myself from his grip. I gasp, startled by the fast body switch.

And now he's the one straddling me . “Get off!” I yell, bucking my hips up, and he lets one of my wrists go to wrap around my throat instead. He keeps both of my hands restrained with one of his and I’m shocked by the feel of his soft palm over my bare throat.

“You want to hurt me?” I ask between grinding my teeth. “Go ahead. I fucking dare you, Alex!”

“There we go…” He leans forward, his words approving, taunting me as he gets right in my face. “Shit, you can be so feral when you let yourself give in to anger. It's kind of hot.”

My face flames. What the hell is he teasing me for? Fuck him. I hate when he does this!

“You know, it'd be so easy to take you down if I really wanted to.” He licks at his bottom lip, where the cut is bright red. A fresh wave of blood spills down his chin, and he licks again, spitting it out right beside my head. “I want to fight. C'mon. Don't you want to beat me bloody? Aren't you angry at me? Hit me.” His mouth curves into a fake, cruel smile, amused by his taunting. “ Hit me.”

Something in my stomach rolls, and my breathing trembles as I exhale, the weight of his body on me—it's a strange feeling, but it's not unwelcome. It feels too overwhelming, like I'm going to snap again...

“Alex, get off. Please.”

“Nope.” His fingers flex over my wrists, shoving my arms harder into the dirty grass, and my breath hitches. His face closes in on mine, eyes hooded, lips still curled into a menacing grin.

Something takes over me, and I do something stupid.

I lift my head up, catching him off guard, not even sure what I want anymore. His confusion is apparent in the way he freezes up. The hand on my throat lets up pressure. There's a second of hesitation, of not knowing how to do this, and then I go for it, leaning in so my lips gently brush over his.

Softly. Delicately.

He doesn't push me away, but he doesn’t make any moves either. I can taste the sharp tang of blood and don't even mind it. My tongue immediately flicks out to lick at the taste on his bottom lip, sharp and strong. I feel his gasp more than hear it. There is no thought in what I'm doing, only actions. Very drunken actions. The alcohol lingering in my system says I want this. It can't possibly be me that wants him. I don't want people.

It feels…

It feels so good. Perfect. Being connected to him like this feels like we're watching a meteor shower again. Painfully beautiful. A once in a lifetime kind of feeling.

He parts his mouth for more, but I pull away. My head slams back to the ground, and my eyes pop open as I realize what I just did. It hits me harder than the punch Alex gave that guy at the party.

Oh no. I can't believe I just—

Alex’s hand slides to the back of my neck, and he leans down, placing soft, bloody lips against mine, the tip of his tongue swiping at my parted mouth. And I fucking moan , inhaling sharply at the sound, the warmth of his tongue, the wet slide of it gently teasing, asking permission for more. He pauses, staring at me like he's never seen me before. I might have sent him back to factory settings by doing this. Fried his brain or something. I told him I didn’t like boys or girls, and then I do this?

He dives back in, our kiss shifting into something deep, hot, and feral. Our breaths come out in pants, and his tongue licks into my mouth with a groan. I shiver under him, at our bodies touching so intimately. His tongue feels good in my mouth, like he knows what to do with it. Even his lips against mine aren't too hard or too soft. The pressure is just the right amount to keep me down and at his mercy.

I can feel my blood rushing south, like I'm getting hard, and I gasp, turning my head away and refusing to give him anything more. My body trembles beneath him as every breath I take is labored and shaky.

I just kissed him. Why did I just kiss him when I hate him?

“Don't get shy on me,” he breathes against my lips, breaking the awkward moment with his blunt observation. It doesn't seem like Alex hates what I did, though. Has he kissed boys before?

“I'm drunk,” I mumble. “I don't know why I just did that.”

“You sure about that?” His fingers tighten at the nape of my neck. “Look at me,” he demands in a more serious tone.

I swallow roughly, turning my head slowly to look at him, expecting… I'm not sure what. Not this though. His cheeks are flushed, and I think I see a softness there again—a real emotion. But then I blink, and they're back to deadly slits with a fire burning so violently it makes my entire body shiver.

“You've never hated me,” he whispers roughly against my mouth. Warm air puffs against my cheek as he moves his lips up to my ear. “You’re angry because you feel something for me. You always have.”

I squeeze my fists. “Fuck you, Alex. I don't feel anything for you, and I definitely don't like you.”

“So mean,” he taunts in a placating tone, pulling away to face me again. “I like it when you're mean. Tell me again to fuck off.” Something hard rubs against my stomach. My eyes widen at Alex's slow grin. “It gets my cock hard .” He laughs, thrusting down on top of me.

I make a yelping noise at the back of my throat, cheeks burning, chest tight.

“GET OFF!” I scream, pulling at his harsh grip on my hands. Struggling to break free from whatever it is he's doing to me.

“As you wish, doe eyes.” Alex releases my wrists and his hold on my neck, standing in one swift motion. I watch him dust off his pants that show off a long, hard dick imprint that he has to adjust with a knowing smirk. “Shall we?”

Alex turns in the direction of his house, and I jump up, running over to him on stumbling legs, my heart beating out of my fucking chest.

“Why do you do that? Why do you want me to fight you? You're constantly riling me up, wanting me to fight you. And... and... messing with me!”

“It's all how I show my love,” he teases in a crooning, placating voice. It's sick. He's so damn sick for teasing me like this.

“Alex… I don't actually want to hurt you… I'm just… I'm so frustrated by you!”

“Sure, buddy. Whatever you say.” His mood shifts from playful to serious. I can feel it happening. It's dark and gut-wrenching. He must still be drunk, like me. That bottle I knocked out of his hand was almost finished. I desperately try to think of what to do and say to get him back to what we had earlier. The easy banter.

“I'm sorry I pushed you… and I'm sorry I kissed you. I'm drunk. I don't even know what I'm doing. ” I clear my throat. Alex keeps walking, choosing not to respond to my rambling. I can feel the drift, and I don't know why it hurts me to know he's upset.

His step falters, but he keeps walking ahead. Shooting me a glance. “Are you seriously still drunk?”

“Yes. But being thrown to the ground sobered me up a little…”

“You pushed me first, Noel.” My name feels so foreign, leaving his lips in that serious, harsh tone. It warms my face with an emotion I can't place, so I watch my boots as we continue along the trail. The breeze is light, and we're getting close to his house. I can almost see his vehicle in the driveway.

“I'm sorry…” I begin again. “I've never drank before. I shouldn't have kissed you. I don't even… ever think about—never mind.”

Alex shoves a hand into his pocket, pulling out a white box that I recognize as cigarettes. He's rushing to get the smoke as quickly as he can. The fire from his lighter glows under his face. I watch, transfixed by his movements.

“You need nicotine that bad? It's your third one tonight. You're seventeen; how are you already so addicted?”

He inhales it deeply, blowing out a stream of smoke. “Eighteen.”

I stop walking. “What? Since when?”

“Since my birthday.”

I catch up to him, pulling at his elbow. “Stop joking. Why didn't you say anything? I didn't know your birthday was in December!”

He ignores my question, and I realize how weird it sounds. To him, why would I care about his birthday?

“So what day was it?”

“My birthday?”

I grind my teeth. “Yes.”

“The fourteenth.”

I think back to that day. Alex skipped school because he was in a bad mood. He picked me up to hang out at the Crown, where he fought me, then we went to his house afterwards.

Oh.

“Alex…”

“Don't,” he cuts me off, voice rough.

We keep walking.

When we get to his house, I'm still spinning. Alex's mom is still not home, and I’m positive I’ll never get to meet the woman. We go straight to the kitchen, where he takes out two water bottles, throwing one at me and taking one for himself. I almost drop it because I'm still buzzed and not able to see straight. I set it down on the counter.

“You hungry?” he asks while chugging half of it down.

“No, just tired. Can I use your bathroom?” I've had so much liquid tonight I'm about to burst. He points down a hallway. “You know where it’s at.”

I do my business quickly and wash my hands before I pull out my cell and text Mom. She basically told me I could stay out all night. Something about her being proud that I've made friends so I'm allowed to go have fun, party, and live life like a teenager should be doing.

Sleeping over at Alex's house. Be home in the morning. Love you. I'll text you when I wake up.

She immediately texts back, Have fun baby! Love you too! I have night shift, so I'll be home in the morning.

I smile and put my phone in my back pocket, shutting off the lights on my way out. I find Alex by the bartop eating peanut butter from the jar.

My shock must be evident on my face because Alex pauses, spoon midway to his mouth. “You good?”

I blink. “Yeah. All good. Still a little drunk.”

“Eat some toast,” he says, nodding over to the counter where there's two slices of bread already toasted for me.

I grab a slice and take a bite. My stomach doesn't curl with sickness, so I sigh into the bite. “Thanks.”

“Whatever. I just don't want you vomiting in my bed.”

My heart skips a beat. “Your bed?”

He licks the spoon clean, eyes on me. “Where else would you sleep, doe eyes?”

“Uh… I guess I assumed you had guest rooms?” I glance around his spacious home.

He drops the spoon in the jar on purpose, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip slowly. “You'll sleep in my room. No idea if my mom will show up with an entourage of guests. Better to be safe than sorry.”

I finish eating my toast without saying anything else, and Alex picks up the unopened water bottle he gave me. “C'mon. Let's go to bed.” He points his finger at me like a gun. “Don't try to kill me in my sleep. I know how badly you want to.”

I scoff. “No promises.” I follow him to his bedroom, and he goes straight to his closet. I hear him open a drawer, and then he comes out, throws me a shirt with black and white joggers, then goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. I sit on his large bed and hold the clothes up to inspect.

The shirt is red with a popular anime logo on the side. I grin and toss my own shirt to the floor, sliding the cotton shirt over my head while inhaling his clean scent. I unbutton my jeans and take my boots off, quickly putting the soft athletic pants on. He emerges in his own nightwear, a shirt with Commander Kendo holding Deathblow on the front and white shorts that have black stripes up the side.

I laugh quietly at the anime merch he seems to hide from everyone at school.

“What?” He pauses right before getting in the bed, throwing all the pillows to the carpeted floor.

“You really are an anime fan.”

He stands there, unimpressed by my comment.

“Get fucked.”

I blink. “Uh—right.”

He rolls his eyes. “Go wash your face. You still have makeup on. I have face wash and extra toothbrushes in the drawer.”

I swipe at my eyelid and look down at my fingers that are smudged with black. I had forgotten all about it. But before I do that, I inspect Alex's face that's still busted up from his fight. He has a split lip and some bruising under his left eye. His lip is undoubtedly plump, but I don't think it is swollen.

“Like what you see?”

“You need first aid.”

Alex stares, dumbfounded at my inspection, before he lets out a soft chuckle, pulling the covers back over his side of the bed. “You're hilarious sometimes, you know that?”

“Alex.” He pauses, raising a brow at my sudden bark of his name. “Show me where you keep your first aid kit so I can take care of it.”

“I'm fine, now go wash your—”

Stepping right over into his personal space, I grab his chin as forcefully and gently as I can, turning it up so I can see the bloody lip and bruised eye close up. He tries to pull back, but when he realises that I won't let go, he relaxes and lets out a sigh. He lets me inspect every part of his face without a struggle.

I press my thumb into Alex’s bleeding lip, causing him to flinch in pain, rubbing a trail of blood behind like it's red lipstick. I inch closer, feeling Alex's wide-eyed stare on me. His breathing has picked up.

It gives me unwavering confidence. I smile, watching his mouth, and apply pressure to his cut. “Will you let me take care of you, or are you going to be a dick about it?”

As I use my thumb to part his lips, a gust of breath passes over my hand. He bites down gently, but I still freeze. Suddenly I can feel and taste his mouth again, my alcohol-addled brain fiercely recalling the moment we kissed.

My first kiss.

That I initiated.

I bite my own lip to stop myself from being an idiot and lean forward to do it again, to taste the blood and spit that makes my heart race. What the hell?

Alex's curious eyes are on me, a prickly heat on my face that starts a slow burn in my cheeks.

“It’s not the first time I’ve been hit, nor is it the last,” he says lazily, like it’s not a big deal that his face is a mess.

“You need ointment on this cut. And um—” I bring my eyes up, away from his pink lips to his piercing blue eyes. I struggle to breathe properly when our gazes connect. I release his lip and move my hand up, holding onto the side of his head and using my thumb to trace the discoloration beneath his eye, almost caressing him. Glancing down, I shift my attention from our intense gaze to the bruise, just barely touching his smooth skin.

“I should get you an ice pack for this, right?” I ask, whispering between our close bodies. He can probably still smell the alcohol on my breath, the same way I can smell the remnants of mint toothpaste on his.

“There's a medical one under my sink. Just go grab it and get this shit over with so we can sleep,” he grumbles, pulling away from me. I watch as he takes a deep breath, almost struggling with it, but he turns away too quickly for me to process it.

I leave him alone for a second to grab the large first aid kit. Clicking it open, I find bandages, ointment, ibuprofen, and an ice pack that I have to throw at the ground, breaking it apart to get it to freeze up before use. After getting what I need and closing the door, I find Alex sitting on the side of the bed with his head in his hands and his fingers gripping his blond hair until he hears the door close.

He glances up when I approach, sitting back on his forearms while I sit beside him.

“The ice pack is ready, so hold this on your eye while I clean your cut.”

He gives me an unimpressed glare before taking the ice pack and smacking it to his cheek, right under his eye.

After wiping at his wound with the cleaning swab, I apply the ointment packet with a Qtip. He watches me the entire time. His mouth lifts at the corner.

“What’s on your mind? Thinking ‘bout my lips on yours?”

“Not at all.”

“Liar.” His hand softly rests at my hip.

I finish applying the medicine to his cut and push at his forehead with my hand. He laughs.

“Do you want a band aid or some—”

“On my lip?”

“Well, I don't know; I haven't actually patched anyone up before.”

“No way. Really? Never would've guessed.”

“Yeah, you're the first—”

“Go wash your face, Noe,” he says with a tired sigh, but I can hear the amusement in it. The little barely there chuckle under his breath.

After washing up in his bathroom, I head back to his room and find he’s still sitting on the bed in the exact same way I left him in. I walk over to him, swallowing my nervousness at being so close, and he gets up, staring at me with an unreadable expression.

“Noel,” Alex mutters my name, still sounding like he went three rounds tonight.

“What?”

He looks down for a moment, swiping at his lip, then meeting my gaze. “I lied.”

I freeze, unable to comprehend what he's saying. “About what?”

“I never forgot you.”

It feels like a comet crashes into my chest. “What the fuck do you mean you never forgot me?” I question, coldly, the air in my lungs trapped.

He inhales deeply, fingers tugging at his hair in the front. “Since the moment you took off your mask, I knew who you were.”