* * *
More people arrived. The crew scattered in a few different directions to talk with others. For the most part, the couples stayed together. I drifted to wherever someone from the crew was. If I didn’t want to interrupt them or felt comfortable doing so, I’d go to inside the house. I helped his mom in the kitchen and talked with her for a bit. I did this a few times through the party. I guess, the last time I was gone a little too long, because Patrick came in and asked if I was alright.
Nothing was really wrong. There were just times when I’d get self-conscious and feel out of place. I was glad to have a place to go where I felt safe and accepted. That’s why I ended up going to the kitchen and helping his mom. Well, I also did want to help her out. Lindsey wasn’t there helping since some of her friends had come over too. It was her chance to catch up with her old high school friends.
Mrs. Connor let me help her out, but would always have me go back outside, usually with some premise of putting more food out. She seemed to have a way of knowing when it was time to push me out there and when I just wasn’t ready yet.
I was over-thinking everything again. I worried about fitting in and felt like I wasn’t or could do more to fit in better. But how? I worried what people were thinking. Did they notice I wasn’t comfortable? Trying too hard? Not hard enough? I was working myself up, for no reason. I knew that and started kicking myself. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I stop doing this? So, I had a choice—stay outside and work myself up for no reason or go inside and get a meaningful distraction. I opted for the latter.
A few hours into the party, I emerged from one of my short kitchen escapes with a fresh tray of turkey tacos. Becca stopped me as soon as put them down.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” She stood squarely in front of me.
I felt adrenaline run through me, I tensed up. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Kissing up to his mom? Pretending you enjoy talking with her and helping? I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work. Patrick’s mine. So, back off!” She vehemently sneered.
“I’m not trying to do anything. Least of all trying to steal Patrick from you.” I stepped to the side to get away from her.
She grabbed a hold of my wrist to prevent me from walking away. “I will not lose Patrick to you or anyone else.” She snapped.
“Let go!” I hissed and yanked my hand back toward me. My heart was racing. My face was burning. “Don’t ever touch me.”
We stood there a moment, staring at each other. I wasn’t taking my eyes off her. I didn’t trust her. But I also didn’t want to get into anything with her. I didn’t want to get into a fight with anyone, especially here at Patrick’s house. If this did escalate into a fight, what the heck was I going to do? I was really glad I didn’t have to find out, because Becca’s posture shifted. It was as if she suddenly relaxed and seemed casual. What the hell?
“Hey, Becks. Liz.” That explained her change in body language. Patrick was approaching us. She reached out for his hand and wrapped it around her shoulder. I tried to relax my face. He turned to face me. “How you doing, Liz? Having fun?”
Definitely not the time to tell him what just happened. He didn’t need to be put in the position of choosing between his friend and his girlfriend. I didn’t think he needed to pick. “Yeah. Good party.” His eyes darted back and forth, searching my face. He suspected something was wrong with me. I tried even harder to not show my fury.
* * *
At the end of the party, I helped clean up. Partly because I wanted to avoid being in the same car as Becca. Partly because I liked talking to his mom and wanted to continue our conversation from last night and this way we could without worrying about being interrupted. And lastly, Patrick said he’d give me a ride later. I think he wanted some alone time with Becca. I totally understood and wanted him to have that chance.
Falling (Bits and Pieces, Book 1) Page 56
