by Sydney Lane
The boys guide us through the crowd to a bar. “One of our brothers works here, so I can get us some drinks. Want anything?” Eric asks. Jenna wants a beer, so I ask for one, too. I don’t drink, but I don’t want to be the odd man out. That’s just another lesson I’ve learned from my sister. I’ve seen her drunk out of her mind more times than I can count, and I see how my parents worry about her. I make sure they never have to worry about me. I am, after all, perfect.
Declan explains that each floor of the club plays a different kind of music. I’m not much of a line dancer, and Jenna doesn’t like techno. That quickly eliminates the first and third floors. The second floor plays more pop and rock, so that’s where we want to go first. I cannot wait to dance. When Eric returns with our beers, we head up the crowded stairs. I can’t help but look over the railing at the people dancing below us.
Declan leads us to a table in the corner, but Jenna and I don’t even bother sitting down. The boys stay to watch our drinks while we head to the dance floor. It’s crowded and hot, but Jenna pulls me to a spot near the center. And we dance. We dance until we’re hot and sweaty. We dance until we can’t dance anymore, and it’s time for a bathroom break.
Yes, it’s true. In the South, girls go to the bathroom together. It serves two purposes. One – you don’t get separated from your friends. Two – it’s the best place to gossip. Jenna grabs me by the arm and squeals, “Can you believe how awesome this is? And Eric? Girl, Eric is killing me. He looks good enough to eat!”
Her enthusiasm is contagious, and I start squealing, too. “I know! This is crazy! It doesn’t get any better than this.” I don’t have anything to compare this to. But for once, I’m having a blast and not worrying about what anyone thinks.
I head back to the dance floor while Jenna tells the boys where we are. I begin dancing by myself. When I feel a hand on my hip, I begin to move away. I look over my shoulder, shocked to see Brody. He smiles and leans down. “Don’t run, baby. I saw you dancing, and I couldn’t resist.” The heat of his breath glides along my neck. I’m hot and sweaty, but I shiver at his touch. I tingle in places I didn’t know existed. “Dance with me,” he whispers.
I can’t speak, so I don’t even try. I nod and begin dancing. The music is fast, and the lights are dim. The crowded dance floor suddenly seems intimate. There is nothing sexier than a man who can dance. And he can. When the music slows, he puts a hand on my waist and pulls me to him. His eyes hold me captive, and I can’t look away. His leg moves between mine, and that movement is torture. I don’t know what he’s doing, but I know I want more of it. Slowly, he rolls his hips into me. Over and over, until I think I might climb up his body. With his hand, he is rubbing slow, sensual circles on my lower back. Everywhere he touches me ignites. The corner of his mouth lifts in a knowing smile. He knows exactly what he is doing to me. Ever so slowly, he leans toward me. I close my eyes. He’s going to kiss me! But he only rests his forehead against mine. His nose brushes my nose, and I feel his breath as it mingles with mine. He smells delicious, like fresh air and masculinity all rolled into one. His face glides along my jaw, to my neck, to that sensitive spot right under my ear. I hold my breath and wait for his lips. He brushes them softly against my neck, and then… he’s gone.
When I come to my senses and open my eyes, he’s looking over my shoulder. I turn and see Declan standing close to the dance floor, watching us. “Are you with him?” Brody demands.
“No! Yes! I mean, we came together, but we aren’t dating.” I have no idea what I’m trying to say. My body is on fire, and all I want are his lips. Brody’s lips.
“When you have a clear answer, you come find me, baby. But I won’t do it like this.” He turns and walks away. What have I done?
I turn back to where Declan was standing, but he is no longer there. The music picks up, so I begin making my way to the table. Jenna and Eric are sitting close, and I can tell they are totally into each other. She doesn’t even see me when I sit beside Declan. He smiles, but it’s strained and awkward. He reaches for my hand, but I move away. I need a minute.
I break the cardinal rule and go to the bathroom by myself. In the darkened hallway, I can see a guy, leaning into a leggy redhead. His face is in her hair as he whispers to her. Right above the collar of his shirt, I see a tattoo on the back of his neck. I’ve never been one for tattoos, but dang, that might change my mind. He turns his head and freezes. I quickly glance away and keep walking. It’s Brody. I know I have no right, but I am mad. I am jealous. And I want those lips on me.
I lock myself in a stall and breathe deeply. Calm down. This is crazy. He’s obviously a player. I remind myself that a very sweet, very hot guy is out there, waiting just for me.
“Quince! You in here?” Jenna yells into the bathroom. Thank goodness. Here’s my girl. I open the door and let her in. “Girl, what’s wrong with you?”
“I was, um, dancing with Brody, and I got a little carried away.” Maybe she didn’t see us.
Wrong. “What were you thinking? You’re here with Declan, and when I look up, you and Brody are looking at each other like you haven’t eaten in days. If Declan hadn’t looked so upset, I would say it was hot as hell, but damn, girl! You can’t do that while you’re on a date!”
“I know. I know. He’s just so overwhelming. I lost my head. What can I do to fix this?” I don’t want to guess what Declan must be thinking.
“Just go out there and act like nothing happened. If he asks, just tell him you were caught up in the music and dancing. We’ll think of something. Don’t worry; we’ll fix this.” I hope she’s right.
When we get back to the table, the guys look ready to go. Declan reaches for my hand, and I let him hold it. His grip is gentle, reassuring, and I feel slightly better. We walk through the club and back down the stairs. Eric never lets go of Jenna, and they look they’ve known each other forever. I knew she’d have him eating out of her hand by the end of the night.
On the ride back to our dorm, Jenna and Eric talk quietly while Declan and I sit in silence. He’s still holding my hand. I turn to look at him, and he catches me. He smiles and says, “I really like you. You’re just so sweet, Quincy, and I don’t want to see anyone take advantage of that.”
And there it is, the elephant in the car. Jenna and Eric start talking louder, and I say, “We were just dancing. But I left with you.” He smiles, and it reaches his eyes this time. I hope that makes him happy.
When we get to the dorm, the boys walk us to the door. Declan squeezes my hand and says he’ll give me a call tomorrow. Eric and Jenna are all wrapped up in each other, with her arms around his neck and his hands on her back. I turn away from them and wait. Talk about uncomfortable.
Declan loudly clears his throat, and Eric laughs as he reluctantly backs away from Jenna. I hear him say, “Tonight was fun. I’ll call you tomorrow.” And we watch them walk away.
“We got some talking to do, girlfriend,” Jenna declares. I should have known I wouldn’t get off that easy.
Chapter 7
It’s only 10:00am when Jenna jumps into bed with me. That is better then I expected. Last night, I was so tired I promised her all of the details if she’d just let me get some sleep. But I didn’t sleep well.
My mind was racing, and my body was restless. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw blue eyes staring back at me. And I could imagine his leg between my thighs. I felt hot and uncomfortable, tossing and turning for hours. My body was hyper-sensitive, aware of every brush of the sheets across my skin. My body was craving something it had never had before. Now that it has been awakened, I’m not sure I can make it forget.
“Time to get up, Quince! I’m ready for those details you promised.” She really has no shame.
I groan, “Jenna, can’t I even wake up first? I didn’t sleep well last night.” It’s a stall tactic. I know it won’t work, but it’s worth trying.
“Oh, no. You will not get off that easy. You go to the club with Sweet and Dreamy, but you
dry hump Hot and Sexy. What the hell was up with that?” She is bouncing around like a four year old on the bed next to me.
“I don’t know what happened. Declan is such a gentleman. He’s hot, and he probably would be good to me. But Brody? Brody is on fire. Declan makes me feel warm and fuzzy. Brody scorches me. What is wrong with me?” I have never had a steady boyfriend, have only kissed two guys…. But suddenly, I want so much more with someone I barely know.
“Baby girl, there is nothing wrong with you. Brody sets every girl’s panties on fire. That messy, just-got-laid hair. Those deep blue, bedroom eyes. That sexy as hell tattoo. Oh yes, he is one fine specimen.” I’m trying to understand just what her point is.
“What the hell, Jenna? I don’t need you to remind me.” Like I could forget. Her description is far better than mine.
“I’m just saying. It’s not you. It’s him. He has that effect on every girl who looks at him. Just keep this in mind. You do not want to become one of those girls. You don’t want to waste something special on someone who may or may not appreciate it. I’ve been there, done that. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you are too special to be a notch on a bedpost. He’s hot, so hot that you might get burned.” I hate it when she’s right. When she puts it like that, I see how naive I’m being.
“You’re right. Absolutely. What would a guy like Brody see in me? Declan, too, for that matter?” My insecurities seep in. The girls I’ve seen Brody with are nothing like me. I’m just Quincy Priest, no frills and no thrills.
“Oh, no you don’t! Quince, you are so beautiful, on the inside and out. You’ve lived through things I can only imagine. You held it together when most would have fallen apart. Any guy would be lucky to have you.” I know she means well, but she’s my friend. Of course she thinks I rock. “But Quince, you are inexperienced with guys like him. And don’t go thinking you aren’t good enough for him. He looks at you like he’s been lost in the desert and you are a tall glass of water. All I’m saying is that you should take it slow. He and Declan are fraternity brothers. Did you know they even live together? That could get ugly real quick.”
I am shocked to hear that they are roommates. How does she know that? “Jenna, I’m not even sure Declan will talk to me again. That was a kind of shitty thing I did.”
“Oh, I bet they both come crawling. Just be prepared when they do. Declan is completely smitten. I think it’s kind of cute.” Did I mention that she might be delusional?
“So… enough about me. What happened with you and Blondie?” I change the subject. I know she is dying to tell me all about last night.
“OK, so last night……” She begins telling me how he kissed her in the club and asked her to go out with him again. Soon enough, she has forgotten all about me and my issues. I just wish I could.
After a shower and studying, we are watching TV when my phone rings. It’s Katie. I take a deep breath and try to mentally prepare myself. I just never know which
Katie I’m going to get. The one who laughs with me, talks like we’re old friends, and loves me like no other? Or the one who is manipulative, jealous, and cuts me in two with her words?
When you say bipolar disorder, people tend to think of mood swings. It used to be called manic depression, so that gives the impression that there is a clear break from one mood to the other. They are either depressed or manic. That is an oversimplification and not totally accurate. Each of these manifests as different behaviors, depending on the person. And there isn’t always a clearly defined line when they go from one mood to the other. That line is often blurred and hazy, so it kind of sneaks up on you. The bite can really hurt.
When Katie is manic, she is impulsive and manipulative. She likes to spend money, often ordering things off the internet or QVC. Things she cannot pay for. She is also the most dangerous to herself and others when she is manic. She sometimes hallucinates and becomes delusional and paranoid during these episodes, which can last for days at a time. If she doesn’t get her way or feels threatened, she can even become violent. She is also most likely to abuse drugs while she is manic. If you’ve told her a secret, she will tell it. It’s like all of her feelings and thoughts are magnified. When she is depressed, she sleeps most of the day. She calls me to discuss our childhood (when things were good) and seems genuinely interested in me and my life. She lures me in. And in some way, when she becomes manic, she will use every single word against me. I should have learned that lesson by now. But in those moments, I want so badly to have a true relationship with my sister. She knows just how to play me. I talk to her like a friend when she is depressed, and then she manipulates and accuses me of whatever delusional thoughts she has when she is manic.
Those mood swings, for me, are defined by her being the girl I know and love one moment and then becoming a complete stranger the next. I often wonder if the girl I grew up with is completely lost. I wonder if I’ll search for her the rest of my life.
“Hey, whatcha been up to?” I ask, trying to sound cordial. My voice catches in my throat, and I breathe a little deeper.
“Nothing, really. Just missing you. Mom says you are happy and like it there. I am really proud of you, Sis.” OK, so she’s normal today. I think.
“Yeah. I like my classes. It’s great living with Jenna, and we’re having so much fun together.” I always measure my words before I say them. I never really know how she might interpret what I say. Just walking on eggshells.
“I’m glad. You’re getting to do things I probably never will.” She wants pity, but it’s hard. She chooses not to attend her counseling sessions. She also doesn’t take her medication or takes too much of it. Bipolar is a disorder she has, but only she can decide if she lets it define who she is or not. That thought makes me feel guilty. For being normal.
“You know you could. You are so smart and talented. You know I would help you.” Katie is an artist. I can’t draw a stick man, but her paintings should be displayed in an art gallery, on display for collectors to buy and covet. She also writes beautiful poetry. Many bipolar patients are artistically inclined, and she is no exception.
“Yeah. I might check into it sometime. Have you met any boys?” To tell or not to tell? That is the question.
“I have, but I’m not really dating yet.” I err on the side of caution.
“Well, I just called because I wondered when you were coming home. I miss you. I even miss Jenna being around.” Jenna has been around so long, she is like a fixture at our house. I feel guilty because Jenna seems more like a sister to me than Katie is.
“I miss you, too. Maybe I’ll come home next weekend.” Suddenly, a trip home sounds nice. I miss it more than I ever expected to.
“I’ll let you get back to your stuff. Talk to you later.” She sounds so sad. If she isn’t depressed now, she will be. I can tell she’s on her way down.
“Love you. Bye.” With that, I let out the breath I’ve been holding. That’s what it feels like to be held emotionally hostage by someone you love.
Chapter 8
I have psych class three days a week. I haven’t heard from Declan since Saturday, so I am a little anxious to see how he will act when I see him today. I kind of liked sitting near the back so I could see everyone without looking like a stalker, so I take the same seat I had last week.
To my surprise, Declan and Eric start walking toward me when they come in. Declan sits next to me, with Eric on his other side. I smile at them, and I hope this means everything is going to be OK. Declan leans toward me and says, “I couldn’t let the prettiest girl in class sit alone, now, could I?” My face gets warm, and I feel my pulse speed up.
“Really? Then why aren’t you sitting with her?” I laugh, pointing to the perky blonde a few rows up. I’m joking, but there is a part of me that really does wonder if he is just playing with me. I mean, the prettiest girl? Riiiiight. No one has ever talked to me like that, much less meant it.
“Because she’s sitting right here with me.” My heart melts
just a little.
I’m wondering where Brody is when he walks through the door. He looks around the room, and his face darkens into a scowl when he spots us. I know he isn’t happy with the change in seating arrangements. I hold my breath as he walks toward us. Will he sit next to me or Eric?
And he chooses…. Eric. I let out the breath I was holding, but I don’t know if I am relieved or disappointed. Maybe I’m even a little angry. I want him to sit by me, to at least acknowledge my existence. He makes me feel things I don’t understand, but he doesn’t seem to be affected by me at all.
Throughout class, I try to steal peeks at Brody. He fidgets with his pen, and I see him scribble in his notebook here and there. For all intents and purposes, he doesn’t appear to be listening at all. I look down at his hands, and I instantly remember them on my bare skin as we danced.
My face burns, and I suddenly have no idea what to do with my own hands. I’m fidgeting as I remember his knee between my thighs, his hips pressing into me. I never knew I could feel like this. I am uncomfortable in my own skin. I peek at him again, and he’s watching me as my eyes travel up his body. I gasp and look away. I try to remind myself that he doesn’t want me. This is only lust. I don’t have any real feelings for him.
Declan is looking between us, as if he’s trying to add a piece that won’t fit into a puzzle. If only I knew what the final picture would look like, maybe I could help him.
As class ends, I am in a hurry to get away. I quickly gather my things and shove them into my backpack. As I stand, Declan puts a hand on my arm to stop me. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
