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Lucy
I don't want to be here...
But my flight leaves tomorrow, and I haven't seen my best friend, Alyssa, since last Christmas, so she's dragging me along to my least favorite place—a party.
I always feel so awkward at parties. I won’t know most of the people here, and I won’t have any clue what to say to the people I do know. And parties are such a waste of time. Give me a networking event, a cocktail hour, or even a mid-morning meeting, and I’m in heaven. I love an agenda. I was put on this earth to get things done, not to stand around and sway to music while holding a red Solo cup and telling frat boys they make me feel things I’ve never felt before.
They don’t.
I’ve felt plenty of things. The best of them from my vibrator, because again, efficiency wins the day. There’s no shame in that.
There are a million people in this strange house, and though I’m sure I’ve met some of them, no one looks vaguely familiar. Alyssa wandered off in search of drinks more than half an hour ago, and I’ve been relegated to this corner, scrolling through my phone ever since.
I’m not the only oneon my phone, but I’d bet most people are checking in on social media, posting pictures, or maybe even trolling the hook up apps.
I’m emailing my adviser.
There’s an internship opportunity at a foundation back in Wisconsin, where I go to school. It hasn't been officially posted yet, but I know their intern from last year, so I’m keeping my eyes peeled.
I press send and stare at my phone, debating whether I should pull up my rideshare app. We haven’t been here long, but Alyssa is a social creature, and I have a feeling she found something even better than alcohol in the kitchen.
Feeling like I should at least check in on her, I wade my way through the crowd. I’m closing in on the kitchen when I spot Alyssa, her purple hair easy to identify in this crowd of over-processed bleached blondes. She throws me a wave and a wink, and I’m taking that as our official goodbye.
Great. So glad I came.
I’m stuck on the makeshift dance floor as music and people vibrate all around me. The song pumping through the speakers is nothing I’ve ever heard before, but admittedly my musical tastes aren’t varied. I’m an unabashed boy band fan. Jonas Bros, One D, K-pop, I love it all. If it’s got harmony and hair gel, I’m there. And I’ll happily award bonus points for coordinating outfits in heartfelt videos featuring sappy ballads.
I’m a no-nonsense girl until it comes to my music. I fell in love with Niall and Harry and their crew back in middle school and I’ve never moved on. There’s probably a lot to unpack in that sentence, but I can’t worry about it.
A smile tugs at my lips as I think momentarily of Caleb Whitman, my nemesis/crush from those middle school days. We met at summer camp just before 8th grade and it was instant friction. We are total opposites, right down to our tastes in music, and he never let me forget that my preferences were pedestrian and typical. But I’ve also never forgotten the way he looked at me, or the subsequent summers we spent together. It was never meant to last, but they were the best summers of my life. Especially the last one. I haven’t seen him in four years, but I’ve no doubt he's just as maddening, just as sweet, and just as gorgeous now as he was then.
The song slows, and a velvety baritone floats through the mic and into the crowd.
What the heck?
I know that baritone more than I’d like to.
As though I’ve conjured him, Caleb Whitman stands in the center of the crowd, mic in hand and devastating smile in place.
“Just slowing it down for a minute to give a shout to Cait and Clay for their end-of-summer extravaganza! But seriously? Does summer ever end? Not if I’m in charge of the calendar. Let me get you right back to it with this timely hit.”
The crowd cheers, and he plays a song I’ve never heard before. His attention is now back on the screen in front of him, so I take a moment to appreciate all that is Caleb. Sure, being within ten feet of the man is enough to drive me crazy, but I can’t deny he’s a beautiful specimen of man. He always has been. Even all those years ago at camp when he was more fluff than buff, I had a minor crush on him. And that last summer? Well, if I hadn’t had plans, if I hadn’t had life all mapped out, things could have ended very differently.
He looks up from what he’s doing to scan the crowd, but I duck into the hallway, not quite ready to face my past. It’s ridiculous. We ended as friends. And I’m probably giving myself way too much credit. Just one look at him tells me he’s had girls throwing themselves at him for the past four years. Maybe he barely remembers me. God, how embarrassing would that be? I look around and find my way to the bathroom. Miraculously, it’s empty, so I step inside to take care of business and wash up. I check the time once again, but it feels too early to leave. My dad is out to dinner tonight, and I’m all packed for my flight tomorrow, but I can kill time and binge Netflix, so in the battle between home and socialization, home wins.
Someone bangs on the door so I head into the hall, figuring I can call a ride. I’m not paying attention to my surroundings, which is why I slam into a brick wall.
Or, more accurately, Caleb Whitman’s rock-hard chest.
Chapter 2
Whit
I’m in my element.There are people everywhere, the tunes are fire, if I do say so myself, and everyone is having a good time. A couple of my buddies from high school are playing beer pong; the kitchen’s filled with a crowd cheering on a guy doing a keg stand. And there’s a Slip ‘N Slide set up on the back lawn. It’s weird, I guess, but amongst all this chaos, I feel peaceful. Exiting the overcrowded great room, I look for Booker and spot him on the patio outside, scrolling through his phone. If I didn’t have to deejay, I’d be right in the thick of the madness. But that’s not Booker’s style. He’s dated a little over the years. And even brought a couple girls back to our place, but hookups aren’t his thing, or so he tells me. I guess it’s that strict upbringing, but I have no such compunction.
I wave hello at a couple people I recognize from high school. I should catch up with them later.
