by Mariah Dietz
We run to the track and the sight of the intersection where Zeus was hit causes a heavy weight on my heart as I realize just how fast I had been running yesterday.
“He’s a tough dude. He’s going to be back taking my place before you know it.” I glance over at him and try to smile to show my appreciation.
I had been right. Max is fast and he has the endurance of someone that obviously works out a lot, which is both enjoyable and a bit intimidating.
Running with Max becomes a quick routine, and after a couple of days of getting over my nerves, I even look forward to it. We run well together, matching one another’s pace, occasionally adding some competition as one of us tries to race the other. On these instances Max generally cheats by grabbing my waist and hauling me back a few steps or gently pushes me to knock me off balance before he sprints ahead. But after our morning workout we, fall into our own individual routines.
Saturday night arrives with some tension. I’d originally agreed to attend a bonfire with Kendall. Jameson’s supposed to be going, and she’s still trying to decipher where things stand between them, so she was livid when Eric called and asked that I attend a party with him, proposing that we go to the bonfire afterward. Feeling guilty that I haven’t spent much time with him, and still uncertain about the situation that Jenny had texted me about, I agreed.
I turn to Eric as we pull up to the party, excitement emanating from his anxious grin. “You’re friends with Tim Evans?” I ask, trying to hide the surprise I so rarely feel around Eric.
“Tim who?” he asks, his enthusiasm slightly waning as he turns to look at me.
I nod my head toward the house. “Tim Evans, the guy who lives here.”
“Oh, I don’t know the guy that lives here, I just know some people here. They say the parties are insane.” It’s not common that I see this much excitement on Eric’s face, and I want to share in it and see this side of him that I haven’t before. However, I feel the tentativeness in me rising, being semi-familiar with stories about parties here.
Eric pushes open his car door and heads up to the house. I follow behind him, reaching for his hand that I quickly lose as a man falls into Eric. I wait to see his response and watch as the quick flash of anger that initially overcomes him quickly dissipates into laughter as he clutches the guy’s shoulders in an unfamiliar act and then drops his hold and takes a couple of steps forward into the throng of people.
The house is packed with unfamiliar faces that all show signs of this being a party that is fueled by something more potent than beer or the screeching heavy metal music jarring my nerves. I immediately feel out of place. Even when I used to drink too much at parties, I never participated in drugs, recreational or otherwise, and have intentionally avoided this kind of party.
“Kendall?”
“Ace?”
“Hey, where are you?”
“I’m at the bonfire where you’re supposed to be. Where are you? What’s all that noise?”
“I’m … at Tim Evans’s.” I cringe. Kendall knows these parties are all about drinking and drugs.
“Tell Eric it’s time to go.”
I take a deep breath, sidestepping a group of people as they begin cheering on a couple of guys doing some sort of drinking competition. “I can’t find him.”
“What do you mean you can’t find him?”
“I mean …” I take a deep breath, preparing myself for her reaction. “I think he left.”
“You think he left?” Her voice rises and I know this is going to be ugly.
“Yeah, we somehow got separated, and I think he left.” I’m half expecting her to tell me I should call him, something I’ve already done a dozen times after realizing his car was no longer where we’d parked it.
“What a bastard! I can’t believe him!”
“Trust me, I know,” I say, making my way through a crowd of drunk guys trying to talk some girls into strip poker. “I just want to get the hell out of here. Can you or Jameson drive at this point?”
“No, we’ve both been drinking. You can try Max. He hasn’t shown up yet. Or Jenny, I think she mentioned being over on that side of town.”
“Okay. I’ll let you know.”
“Ace wait!” Kendall says, and I hear her dip her phone to her shoulder and can make out a few of her words as she explains to someone, likely Jameson, what has happened. I inwardly groan at the shame, knowing the looks of pity and confusion I’ll be receiving.
“Ace, Max is coming to get you. He hasn’t had anything to drink tonight and he just got here.”
“No, tell him to have fun. I’ll try Jenny, or call a taxi.” She’s ignoring me; I know this because I can hear her reciting my whereabouts over my protests.
“Kendall. Kendall. Kendall!”
“Hey, baby, I bet I can get you to scream my name.”
I jerk my head to see a tall, skinny guy with dirty blond hair. His face is round for how thin he is, but his jaw and chin are strong, and by the way he’s approaching me I can tell he’s used to women fawning over him. His eyes fall to my chest, missing my look of disgust.
“He’s on his way, Ace. Slap that guy and walk away. He’s going to call you.”
My phone begins ringing almost instantaneously, and I glance at the screen to see an unfamiliar number.
“That’s him. I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay, be safe.” Loud squeals slightly obscure Kendall’s parting words before she hangs up.
I plug my right ear pressing the phone hard to my left and try to move away from the noises surrounding me.
“Hello?”
“Ace, are you okay?” I hear Max’s deep voice.
“Yeah, I’m fine! I’m really sorry you—”
“Yeah, you’re fine!” The same skinny, dirty blond appears and I glare at him to indicate I’m not interested.
“Sorry,” I grumble, pushing through more people “This place is crazy.”
“It sounds crazy.”
I lower my shoulder and brush by a group of guys.
“Find a bathroom or a room with a lock,” Max instructs.
“I’m looking.” I watch a couple stumble backwards as they work to rip each other’s clothes off while engaging in a kiss that looks nearly painful, it’s so intense.
“What? I can’t hear you?”
I’ve reached a congested area where three tables are set up surrounded by a large congregation of people playing beer pong, all extremely vocal. Beside them is an even louder group of mostly men, crowded around a girl doing a keg stand, wearing such minimal clothing I feel certain that if she can recall any of this by tomorrow she’ll be mortified.
I slip through a few more groups, trying to go undetected as I avoid eye and any physical contact.
“Ace, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m trying to look for a room,” I answer, gripping my phone tighter.
I reach out to try another door handle and discover that it, like all of the ones I’ve already tried, is locked.
“There aren’t any rooms, I’ll just meet you out front?”
“I’ll find us a room. You ready to go for the ride of your life?” I don’t even turn toward the slurred voice to give a reaction. I just want to get the hell out of here.
“Max—”
“I’m almost there, Ace, just stay on the line and keep looking.”
I slide along the edge of the room and through a hallway to where I spot another door that’s slightly ajar. I sigh in relief as I approach it, slowly pressing it open with my fingertips to reveal a small laundry room.
“You still with me?”
“Yeah, I found a room.”
“Where’s that?”
“The laundry room.”
“Alright, tell me how to get there.”
“No, when you get here I’ll meet you out front.”
“Ace, it will make it a lot faster for me if you tell me where I’m going.” I hear a loud thunder of yelling coming from Max
’s end.
“Are you here?”
“Yeah.” I stand up from where I’m leaning against the washer and place a hand on the door. “Just tell me how to get to you. If you leave, we’re going to have a really hard time finding each other. This place is insane.”
Even though I want to rebuke, I know he has a valid point. Begrudgingly, I give in, trying to recall the turns I took to get here, hearing the party sounds echo from behind the door and through the phone.
When the door slowly opens, I sigh with relief as Max fills the doorway. His face really is so beautifully handsome.
It seems wrong to use the word beautiful when I think of how to describe Max, because the term is so often used to describe feminine attributes, and there is nothing even remotely feminine about Max, but I’ll be damned if the word doesn’t join the mass amount of expletives that always seem to float through my mind when I see him.
“Hey.” His deep voice fills the small room, and a wave of self consciousness washes over me as I watch his eyes travel the length of my body. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just ready to be out of here.”
Max nods, extending a hand to me. “Why don’t you lead, I don’t want my back to you in this crowd.”
“They won’t bother me,” I say, pushing off of the washer.
“Humor me.”
I take a step closer and reach my hand forward, placing it within his. I feel the heat of his hand sear through me.
“Ready?” he asks, applying a gentle squeeze of pressure to my hand.
I nod and brace myself for the crowds of crazy.
I attempt the path of least resistance, avoiding groups that look rowdy as I lead us through the house holding Max’s left hand in my right. Periodically, he lifts his right hand as a shield, even though the few times he’s done so, no one has come close to running into me.
We’re nearly out. I can finally see the front door when a guy comes barreling toward us with another man quickly chasing after him, looking enraged. Before I can come to a complete stop, Max is half pulling, half lifting me so I’m behind him as he raises one arm and keeps his other securely wrapped around my waist in a protective stance.
“Let’s see if there’s a back door.” I plead as several more guys begin running toward the commotion, throwing punches and yelling.
Max looks at the chaos ensuing and nods. As he turns, his hand readjusts to my hip, and his long calloused fingers wrap around me. The feeling shoots a foreign surge of energy through me, distracting me from the task at hand.
“Lead the way, Captain.” Over all of the chaos, Max’s deep voice becomes a singular sound for me as I feel his lips graze the shell of my ear.
I focus on working our way against the crowd of people that have now come to either observe or participate in the growing fight.
“This way.” Max tightens his grip on my hip and steers me to the right. I look over and see a set of glass French doors leading outside and take Max’s hand in mine as I head toward them.
We make our way out into the dark night. Most of the blinds in the house are closed and the darkness seems utterly endless as my eyes work to adjust to the contrast, my ears ringing as they do the same.
Max’s hand loosens around mine, and I automatically release my grip and turn to face him. He’s right behind me, closer than I’d expected, and I’m surprised to see the distinct look of ire across his face forcing me to take a step back. His scent that I’ve become so drawn to over the past several weeks is more distinct now that we aren’t surrounded by so many people. It causes a contrasting emotion to his visible anger that I’m scrambling to prepare for.
“What in the hell was he thinking bringing you to a place like this? And he left?” he yells. “Why in the hell did you agree to come here? Do you know what goes on at these parties? Did you drink anything?”
I shake my head, feeling slightly offended by his accusation. “I’m not an idiot, Max. We were here like fifteen minutes and then I lost him.” Or he lost me … I silently wonder why in the hell he would ask me to come here with him and then leave me.
“I’m going to kill him!”
“Why waste your time?” I mutter, nervously gliding my fingers up and down my outer thighs, following the seams of my jeans.
“Why in the hell are you wasting your time with him? The sex can’t be worth all the other shit.”
“Let’s just go.”
“I’m serious, Ace, if I see his face around, I’m going to break his fucking jaw,” Max promises.
“Fighting’s barbaric,” I reply, annoyed that he’s suddenly turning his macho side on.
“What?”
“Barbaric. Ruthless, savage, wicked, cruel. Fighting. Is. Barbaric.” Max looks down at me and the storm that has been stirring in his eyes slowly recedes.
“Would it be barbaric if I run him over with my Jeep?” he asks, raising that single eyebrow again.
“We can discuss it on the way to the bonfire.” Max falls into step beside me, placing a hand to the small of my back as I hear a quiet chuckle escape him. I try with an exhausting level of effort to not look over at him and lose to the crushing desire to see his face while he’s laughing.
When we reach the bonfire it’s inescapable that Kendall’s had too much to drink, and I instantly feel guilty. I look over to see how Jameson’s fairing with it and am interrupted with Kendall’s angry spew.
“You’re dumping him!” she cries, spotting me. She’d been distracted when we first arrived, loudly talking to a couple of people still standing beside her.
I cringe, hoping some sensibility of not discussing my personal life in this forum dawns on her. Quickly.
“I know, I told her even if he’s great in bed, it’s not worth this shit.” That’s not going to help deter Kendall.
She turns to Max. “Like Ace would know!”
“No way, he’s not your first!” Max doesn’t pose this as a question, but rather a fact, and Kendall stares at him for a long moment, filling me with unease.
“Who are you to judge? You’ve slept with how many girls?” I watch the girls beside her turn their attention to us, obviously intrigued. Although I’m relieved to have the attention diverted from me and my sexual encounters, or lack thereof, I really don’t want to discuss Max’s either.
“If he’s your first, I’m really going to kill him, barbaric or not.”
“He’s not her first!” Kendall shouts, making me cringe.
“Shhh!” I hiss, grabbing Kendall’s arm and looking over to Jameson pleadingly. He’s staring at me as if lost in a trance, and I roll my eyes at him, realizing he’s probably drank too much as well.
I’m not sure why the idea of my virginity being known to Max, or anyone else for that matter, embarrasses me exactly. It’s something I’m proud of in many ways, but I suddenly feel very young and inexperienced, and the combination makes me feel a strange sense of inferiority.
This almost instantly makes the logical side of my brain irate. I know without thinking this is in no way true, and I feel annoyed with both Kendall and Max for so publicly discussing this.
“This is none of your business. Either one of you.” I glare between Max and Kendall.
“Did you at least ask him about the other girl?” Kendall’s voice is hesitant and filled with pain as she looks at me waiting for my reaction. I can’t believe Jenny mentioned seeing Eric with another girl to Kendall and didn’t warn me about it! I look back at her impassively.
“He’s cheating on you?” Max’s eyes widen and his voice rises. “Why are you still dating him?”
“Because she doesn’t care about him. She never has,” Kendall answers, ignoring my look of contempt. “But seriously, Ace, you’re going to let him embarrass you? I don’t get it!”
“Kendall, this isn’t the place to discuss any of this. You’re drunk, and—”
“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” she whispers, grabbing my arm. “I teased you for being a serial dater. That�
�s why you haven’t pulled the trigger!”
“It has nothing to do with you,” I snap, pulling my arm away from her. “Neither of you need to worry about it. I’m fine.”
“But—” Kendall begins to object with a look of fury on her face.
“Kendall, you’re drunk and yelling about my personal life in front of everyone. No. I’m not discussing this here or now.”
“Ace—” Max starts, which only elevates my frustration.
I take a couple of steps back. “I appreciate you coming to get me, but I’m done. You guys have fun.” I turn around and head back to the house with the intention of calling a cab home.
I make it to the house before realizing my cell phone is locked safely in Max’s Jeep.
I slump into a patio chair on the front porch with a sigh, letting my anger for Max and Kendall distract me from facing the fact that I need to end my relationship before things get more complicated.
“You didn’t make it very far.” I look up, surprised to see Jameson. “Kendall can be loud as fuck when she’s drunk. I realized this was one of the times that you were referring to. I’m sorry I didn’t help. I was distracted by my light bulb moment.”
“A drunken epiphany, great. I can’t wait to hear it.” I groan, leaning my head back on the chair.
“I’m a little buzzed now, but not drunk.”
“What was your light bulb moment?” I ask, not caring to get into the details of his inebriation level.
“You like Max.”
I straighten in my seat and look at Jameson, suddenly very interested in his inebriation level, hoping he really is drunk so there’s a chance he won’t remember this or that I can possibly distract him. Drunk people have amazingly short attention spans.
His hazel eyes are sharp as they stare at me. I watch the recognition dawn on him and know instantly that I’m screwed.
“I knew it!” He quietly cheers. “So, you’re staying with your loser boyfriend to pull the shade down on everyone from realizing you like Max. Why?”
