Chapter 13

Laura

Rick picked me up at 7:30.

He was wearing a black jacket and his hair was done. He looked good. I noticed that. I had not noticed anything about him in weeks. But tonight I looked at him and thought yeah. He is cute. He is my boyfriend. This should be easy.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey."

He kissed my cheek. I did not pull away.

"You look nice," he said.

"Thanks."

He drove. Music played. He sang along to a song I did not know. I watched him. His hands on the wheel. His jaw moving to the words. He looked happy. Careless. I wanted to feel that way too.

The party was at Jake's house. Jake was on the basketball team. His parents were out of town. That was why everyone was there.

We parked down the street. The house was loud. Lights on. People on the lawn. Someone was smoking by the front door.

Rick took my hand. "Ready."

"Yeah."

We walked in.

The music was loud. Bass heavy. The air smelled like beer and perfume and sweat. People were everywhere. Dancing. Talking. Making out in corners.

Chloe saw me first. She ran over. Grabbed my arm.

"You came."

"I said I would."

"You look hot."

I looked down at my dress. Black. Short. I had not worn it for anyone. I just wanted to feel different.

"Thanks."

Chloe pulled me toward the kitchen. Rick followed. Someone handed me a cup. I did not ask what was in it. I drank it. It burned.

"Slow down," Rick said.

"I am fine."

He looked at me. I looked back. He smiled. I smiled back.

For a second, it felt normal.

---

An hour passed. Two hours.

I danced with Chloe. I danced with Rick. I drank another cup. Then another.

Rick's hands were on my waist. His body was close to mine. He was laughing at something. I was laughing too. I did not know what was funny.

But I felt good.

Not because of the drinks. Because I was not thinking. About Damon. About the study. About the blonde woman. About anything.

I was just here. With my boyfriend. At a party. Being seventeen.

Rick leaned down. His mouth was near my ear.

"You are having fun."

"Yeah."

"I have not seen you like this in a while."

"I know."

He kissed my neck. Soft. Quick. His lips were warm.

I did not pull away.

---

At 10pm, we went outside.

The backyard was crowded. A fire pit was going. People were sitting on lawn chairs. Someone had a guitar. No one was playing it.

Rick found a spot on a bench. Pulled me onto his lap.

"You are drunk," he said.

"I am not."

"You are giggling."

"I am not giggling."

"You are."

I was. I did not care.

Rick tucked my hair behind my ear. Looked at me.

"I missed you," he said.

"I have been right here."

"No. You have been somewhere else. But tonight you are here."

I looked at him. Really looked. His eyes were brown. Warm. He was not complicated. He was not dark and brooding and full of secrets. He was just Rick. My Rick. The boy who followed me around in sophomore year. The boy who made me feel seen before anyone else did.

"I am here," I said.

He kissed me. Not a habit kiss. A real one. His hand on my face. His lips moving slow.

I kissed him back.

And I did not close my eyes and pretend he was someone else.

I kissed Rick.

Just Rick.

---

At 11pm, we left.

Rick drove. I sat in the passenger seat. The windows were down. The air was cold. My head was fuzzy.

"Stay over," he said.

"I cannot."

"Why not."

"Because my parents will ask questions."

"Tell them you are with Chloe."

I looked at him. He was smiling. Hopeful.

"Okay," I said.

He grinned. Reached over and squeezed my knee.

We got to his house at 11:30. The lights were off. The Bugatti was in the driveway.

My stomach flipped.

I told it to stop.

Rick unlocked the door. We walked inside. The house was dark. Quiet.

"My dad is probably asleep," he whispered.

"Okay."

He took my hand. Led me upstairs. Past the study. Past the closed door.

I did not look at it.

---

Rick's room was messy. Clothes on the floor. Empty water bottles on the nightstand. His bed was unmade.

"Sorry," he said. "I did not know you were staying."

"It is fine."

He pulled off his jacket. Sat on the bed. Looked at me.

"You are still wearing your dress."

"I know."

"Are you going to take it off."

I pulled the dress over my head. Let it fall on the floor. I was standing in my bra and underwear. Rick's eyes went to my body.

"You are so hot," he said.

"Come here."

He stood up. Walked to me. Put his hands on my hips.

"Are you sure," he said.

"Yes."

He kissed me. His hands were on my back. My waist. My thighs. He was not as gentle as Damon. He was younger. Rougher. Eager.

I let him touch me. I let him take off my bra. I let him lay me on the bed.

And when he was inside me, I kept my eyes open.

I looked at him.

His face. His mouth. His hands.

He was not Damon.

That was okay.

I wanted him to be enough.

---

Afterwards, we lay in the dark.

Rick was on his back. His arm was under my head. His breathing was slow. He was almost asleep.

"Rick."

"Yeah."

"I am sorry."

"For what."

"For being weird. For being distant. For making you feel like I was somewhere else."

He turned his head. Looked at me.

"It is okay."

"It is not okay. You did not deserve that."

He was quiet for a second. Then he said "are you breaking up with me."

"No."

"Then what are you saying."

I put my hand on his chest. Felt his heartbeat.

"I am saying I want to try. Really try. No more weirdness. No more distance. Just us."

He looked at me for a long time. Then he kissed my forehead.

"Okay," he said. "Just us."

He fell asleep.

I did not.

I lay there. His arm was heavy on my stomach. His breath was warm on my shoulder.

I thought about Damon. About the study. About the three month promise. About the blonde woman. About his text. "we need to stop."

Maybe he was right.

Maybe this was for the best.

I closed my eyes.

I did not text him.

I did not sneak downstairs.

I stayed in Rick's bed. In Rick's arms. And I told myself that this was enough.

It had to be.

---

The next morning, I woke up before Rick.

I got dressed. Wrote him a note. "went home. call me later."

I walked downstairs.

The house was quiet. Sunlight was coming through the windows.

I walked to the front door.

His voice stopped me.

"Laura."

I turned around.

Damon was standing in the doorway of his study. He was wearing a grey tshirt and sweatpants. His hair was messy. His eyes were dark.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey."

We looked at each other.

"I did not hear you come in last night," he said.

"We were quiet."

He nodded. Looked at the floor. Then back at me.

"You are leaving."

"Yes."

"Rick is still asleep."

"Yes."

He took a step toward me. Then stopped.

I did not move.

"How are you," he said.

"Fine."

"Are you really."

I looked at him. His face. His hands. His stupid dark blue eyes.

"I am trying to be," I said.

He nodded. Like he understood.

"Laura."

"Do not."

"Do not what."

"Do not say something that will make this harder."

He closed his mouth. Nodded again.

I opened the front door.

"Goodbye, Damon."

"Goodbye, Laura."

I walked out.

I did not look back.