Mess To Be Made

37

After Gabi walked away from me, I stood against one of the living room walls, watching the mayhem of a theater party unfold around me.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't continuously scan the room in search of a certain green-eyed brunette.

You know, you've got competition.

Reflecting on my entire conversation with Gabi had me chewing on the rim of my red solo cup in anxious frustration—for many reasons. The most prominent, however, was Kelsey and whatever the fuck she's been saying about me to other people. I never imagined Tyler to be friends with someone catty.

Friends. My own conscious laughed at me, because I was starting to gather Tyler and Kelsey were not just friends. And as that thought began to sink deeper and deeper into me, slowly becoming a fact I needed to believe rather than a thought I'd skepticized, I found my eyes drawn to the front door.

Maybe I should go. I'd been worried about coming simply because my presence here threw a wrench in the social status quo of high school. A party like this just isn't where someone like me, Princess Allie Carson, was supposed to be on a Saturday night. That worry had grown into genuine discomfort and fear. I began to wonder if it was even fair that I was here. None of these people would be allowed to step foot in one of my crowd's parties. And while so far I had gotten a few curious, shocked looks thrown my way, no one had batted more than an eye or confronted me for being here.

Yet, at least.

"Empty?"

I jumped, my eyes hastily tearing from the front door to the boy standing next to me. Scott wore a smile, clearly pleased that he successfully startled me, as he peered into my red solo cup.

I snatched it toward my chest and scowled. "You should've put more vodka in it."

His kind face stretched to its corners and he raised an eyebrow. "I don't know about the guys you normally hang out with, but I don't try to get girls completed wasted."

"What about when the girl, herself, is telling you to get her completely wasted."

Scott thought about this for a moment, and I almost giggled at how innocent he looked as he lips tilted downwards while his eyes darted in the other direction. Then, with a sarcastic wink, he plucked my cup out of my hands. "Huh, maybe that's why I'm not getting laid."

I hesitated to go with him as he walked away from me, not wanting to seem too clingy. But I'd been standing by myself, alone, against the wall in the living room for an embarrassing amount of time. Like a fucking nerd.

I was the fucking nerd at the nerd party. That thought alone had my feet moving to follow him.

If I thought the kitchen was chaos before, it was complete madness now. Scott seemed to know exactly where he was going though, so I locked my eyes on the back of his bright blue t-shirt, trailing it with focus until Scott and I were pressed up in a corner Tyler had claimed.

Just seeing him again made me shove my hands in the back pockets of my jeans. They felt safer there.

"I'm getting Allie another drink, you need one?" Scott asked Tyler, raising his voice to be heard over the other conversations and echoing music from the living room.

Tyler looked at his beer can like he could see through it. Before he could respond, I smiled at Scott and said, "A beer for him, please."

Scott's raised eyebrow held a mixture of amusement and approval before he disappeared into the kitchen crowd to fetch our drinks.

I stilled. Everything in me—psychologically and physiologically—seemed to stop for a moment as Tyler's hand found its place on the small of my back. It was a tight squeeze where we were standing, so it could have just been to make the small space more comfortable. But for some reason, his touch felt unnecessary and intentional. It took me a while to process his words after he leaned down, his warm breath fanning across the side of my face, to say, "You were gone for a while."