After (The After Series) (6 page)

He laughs again and I join him. But after a few seconds, catching himself having a decent laugh with me, he stops suddenly and his laughter fades. Something flashes in his eyes. “I’ll
see you around, Theresa,” he says and turns on his heel and disappears back where we’d come from.

What is with him?
Before I can begin to analyze his actions, my phone rings. Noah’s name flashes across my screen and I feel oddly guilty as I answer.

“Hey, Tess, I was going to text you back, but I figured I might as well call.” Noah’s voice is clipped, a bit distant.

“What are you doing? You sound busy.”

“No, just on my way to meet some friends at the grill,” he explains.

“Okay, well, I won’t keep you. I’m so glad it’s Friday. I am ready for the weekend!”

“Are you going to another party? Your mom is still disappointed.”

Wait—why did he mention it to my mother? I love that he has a close relationship with her, but sometimes dating him is like having an annoying little brother who tattles on me. I hate to compare him that way, but it’s true.

Rather than getting into it with him, I just tell him, “No, I’m staying in this weekend. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Tess. So much. Call me later, okay?”

I agree and we exchange “I love you’s” before hanging up.

WHEN I GET BACK TO MY ROOM,
Steph is getting ready for another party, which I assume is the one Molly mentioned at the café. I log into Netflix and browse the movies.

“I really wish you would come. I swear we won’t stay overnight this time. Just come for a little bit. Watching movies alone in this small room will be hell!” Steph whines, and I laugh. She continues to beg me while she teases her hair and changes into three different outfits before deciding on a green dress that leaves very little to the imagination. The crisp color looks really good
with her bright red hair, I have to admit. I envy her confidence. I’m confident to a certain extent, but I’m aware that my hips and breasts are larger than most women my age. I tend to wear clothes that hide my large bust, while she tries to draw as much attention as possible to hers.

“I know . . .” I say, humoring her. But then my laptop screen turns black and I press the power button and wait . . . and wait. The black screen remains.

“See! It’s a sign that you should come. My laptop’s at Nate’s apartment, so you can’t use mine.” She smirks and teases her hair again.

Looking at her, I realize I really don’t want to sit in the dorm alone without anything to do or watch.

“Fine,” I say, and she jumps up and down, clapping her hands. “But we’re leaving before midnight.”

I
change out of my pajamas and put on a new pair of jeans that I haven’t worn yet. They are a little tighter than my usual pants, but I’m in desperate need of a trip to the laundry room, so I don’t have much of a choice. My shirt is a simple black button-up, sleeveless shirt with lace trim on the shoulders.

“Wow, I actually like your outfit a lot,” Steph tells me. I smile and she tries to offer me eyeliner again.

“Not this time,” I tell her, remembering how it smeared from my tears last time.
Why did I agree to go back to that frat house again?

“Okay. Molly is picking us up instead of Nate; she just texted that she’ll be here any minute.”

“I don’t think she likes me,” I say as I check myself out in the mirror.

Steph cocks her head to one side. “What? She does. She’s just bitchy and too honest sometimes. And I think she is intimidated by you.”

“Intimidated? By
me
? Why on earth would she be intimidated by me?” I say and laugh. Steph clearly has this backward.

“I think just because you’re so different from us,” she says and smiles. I know I’m different from them, but to me they are the “different” ones. “Don’t worry about her, though; she’ll be occupied tonight.”

“By Hardin?” I ask before I can stop myself. I continue to
look at the mirror, but I can’t help but notice the way she is looking at me with one eyebrow raised.

“No, by Zed probably. She changes guys every week.”

That’s a harsh thing to say about a friend, but she just smiles and adjusts her top.

“She isn’t dating Hardin?” The image of them making out on the bed comes to mind.

“No way. Hardin doesn’t date. He fucks with a lot of girls, but he doesn’t date anyone. Ever.”

“Oh,” is all I manage to say.

THE PARTY TONIGHT
is the same as last week. The lawn and house are crowded with drunk people everywhere. Why didn’t I just stay in and stare at my ceiling?

Molly disappears as soon as we arrive, and I end up getting a spot on the couch and am sitting there for at least an hour when Hardin walks by.

“You look . . . different,” he says after a short pause. His eyes rake down my body and back up to rest on my face. He doesn’t even try to be subtle about the way he’s assessing me. I stay silent until his eyes meet mine. “Your clothes actually fit you tonight.”

I roll my eyes and adjust my shirt, suddenly wishing I was wearing my normal loose clothing.

“It’s a surprise to see you here.”

“I’m a bit surprised that I ended up here again,” I say and walk away from him. He doesn’t follow, but for some reason I find myself wishing he would have.

A few hours later, Steph is drunk again. Well, as much as everyone else is.

“Let’s play Truth or Dare,” Zed slurs and their small group of
friends gather around the couch. Molly passes a bottle of clear alcohol to Nate and he takes a swig. Hardin’s hand is so large that it covers his entire red cup as he takes a sip. Another punk-looking girl joins the game, making it Hardin, Zed, Nate, Nate’s roommate Tristan, Molly, Steph, and the new girl.

I’m just thinking that a drunken game of Truth or Dare can’t possibly end well when Molly says with a wicked smile, “You should play, too, Tessa.”

“No, I’d rather not,” I tell her and focus my attention on a brown stain on the carpet.

“To actually play, she would have to stop being a prude for five minutes,” Hardin tells them and they all laugh except Steph. His words anger me. I am not a prude. Yeah, I will admit I’m not by any means wild, but I’m not some cloistered nun. I glare at Hardin and sit down cross-legged in their little circle, between Nate and another girl. Hardin laughs and whispers something to Zed before they start.

The first few truths and dares include Zed being dared to chug an entire can of beer, Molly being dared to flash her bare chest to the group, which she does, and Steph revealing the truth that her nipples are pierced.

“Truth or dare, Theresa?” Hardin asks and I gulp.

“Truth?” I squeak.

He laughs and mutters, “Of course,” but I ignore him as Nate rubs his hands together.

“Okay. Are you . . . a virgin?” Zed asks, and I choke. No one seems fazed by the intrusive question besides me. I feel the heat in my cheeks and the humor in everyone’s faces.

“Well?” Hardin presses. Despite how much I want to run away and hide, I just nod. Of course I’m a virgin; the furthest Noah and I have gone is making out and some slight groping, over our clothes, of course.

Still, no one seems outright surprised by my answer, just intrigued.

“So you have been dating Noah for two years and you haven’t had sex?” Steph asks, and I shift uncomfortably.

I just shake my head. “Hardin’s turn,” I say quickly, hoping to take the attention off myself.

D
are,” Hardin answers before I even ask him. His green eyes bore through me with an intensity that says I’m the one on the spot, that I’m the one dared to do something.

And I falter, not having really thought this out, or expecting to be met with such a reaction. What should I dare him to do? I know he will do whatever it is, just because he won’t want to back down from me.

“I . . . hmm. I dare you to . . .”

“To what?” he says impatiently. I almost dare him to say something nice about each person in the group but I decide against it, however amusing it would have been.

“Take your shirt off and keep it off the entire game!” Molly yells out, and I’m glad. Not because Hardin will be taking his shirt off, of course, but because I couldn’t think of anything and it eases the pressure of my having to give him orders.

“How juvenile,” he complains, but he lifts his shirt over his head. Without meaning to, my eyes go directly to his long torso and the way the black tattoo ink stretches across his surprisingly tan skin. Under the birds on his chest, he has a large tree inked onto the skin of his stomach. The branches are bare and haunting. His upper arms have many more tattoos than I expected; small, seemingly random images and icons are scattered along his shoulders and hips. Steph nudges me, and I tear my eyes away from him, praying that no one saw me staring.

The game continues. Molly kisses Tristan and Zed both.
Steph tells us about her first time having sex. Nate kisses the other girl.

How did I find myself in the middle of this group of hormonal college rock-and-roll misfits?

“Tessa, truth or dare?” Tristan asks.

“Why even ask? We know she will say truth—” Hardin starts.

“Dare,” I say, surprising them and myself.

“Hmm . . . Tessa, I dare you to . . . take a shot of vodka,” Tristan says, smiling.

“I don’t drink.”

“That’s the point of the dare.”

“Look, if you don’t want to do it . . .” Nate starts to say and I look over at Hardin and Molly sharing a laugh at my expense.

“Fine, one shot,” I say. I think Hardin will probably have yet another contemptuous expression at this, but when his eyes meet mine, I find he’s giving me a strange look instead.

Someone hands me the clear bottle of vodka. I mistakenly put my nose against the top, smelling the foul liquid, which burns my nostrils. I scrunch my nose, trying to ignore the chuckles behind me. I try not to think of all the mouths that have been on the bottle before me, and I just tilt it back and take a drink. The vodka feels hot and burns all the way down to my stomach, but I manage to swallow it. It tastes horrible. The group claps and laughs a little—everyone except Hardin. If I didn’t know him any better, I would think he was mad or disappointed. He is so strange.

After a short time, I can feel the heat in my cheeks and then, later, the small amount of alcohol in my veins that grows with each round that I am dared to take another shot. I oblige, and I have to admit I feel pretty relaxed for once. I feel good. With this feeling, everything seems a little easier. The people around me all seem a little more fun than before.

“Same dare,” Zed says with a laugh and takes a swig from the
bottle before handing it to me for the fifth time. I don’t even remember the dares and truths that have been happening around me for the last few rounds. This time I take two big drinks of the vodka before it’s ripped from my grasp.

“I think you’ve had enough,” Hardin says and hands the bottle to Nate, who takes a drink.

Who the hell is Hardin Scott to tell me when I have had enough? Everyone else is still drinking, so I can, too. I grab the bottle back from Nate and take a drink again, making sure to give Hardin a smirk as the bottle touches my lips.

“I can’t believe you have never been drunk before, Tessa. It’s fun, right?” Zed asks and I giggle. Thoughts of my mother’s lectures on irresponsibility flood my mind, but I push them back. It’s only one night.

“Hardin, truth or dare?” Molly asks. He answers “dare,” of course.

“I dare you to kiss Tessa,” she says and gives him a fake smile.

Hardin’s eyes go wide, and though the alcohol is making everything more exciting, I really just want to run away from him.

“No, I have a boyfriend,” I say, making everyone laugh at me for the hundredth time tonight.
Why am I even hanging around these people who keep laughing at me?

“So? It’s just a dare. Just do it,” Molly says, pressuring me.

“No, I’m not kissing anyone,” I snap and stand up. Without looking at me, Hardin just takes a drink from his cup. I hope he’s offended. Actually, I don’t care if he is. I’m through interacting with him like this. He hates me and is just too rude.

As I get to my feet, the full effect of the alcohol hits me. I stumble but manage to pull myself together and walk away from the group. Somehow I find the front door through the crowd. As soon as I’m outside, the fall breeze hits me. I close my eyes and breathe in the fresh air before going to sit on the familiar stone
wall. Before I realize what I am doing, my phone is in my hands, dialing Noah.

“Hello?” he says. The familiarity of his voice and the vodka in my system make me miss him more.

“Hey . . . babe,” I say and bring my knees to my chest.

A beat of silence passes. “Tessa, are you
drunk
?” His voice is full of judgment. I shouldn’t have called him.

“No . . . of course not,” I lie and hang up the phone. I press my finger down on the power button. I don’t want him to call back. He’s ruining the good feeling from the vodka, worse than even Hardin did.

I stumble back inside, ignoring whistles and crude comments from drunk frat guys. I grab a bottle of brown liquor off the counter in the kitchen and take a drink, too big of a drink. It tastes worse than the vodka and my throat feels like it’s on fire. My hands fumble for a cup of anything to get the taste out of my mouth. I end up opening the cabinet and using a real glass to pour some water from the sink. It helps the burn a little, but not much. Through a break in the crowd, I see that the group of my “friends” are still sitting in a circle playing their stupid game.

Are they my friends?
I don’t think they are. They only want me around so they can laugh at my inexperience. How dare Molly tell Hardin to kiss me—she knows that I have a boyfriend. Unlike her, I don’t go around making out with everyone. I’ve kissed only two boys in my life, Noah and Johnny, a freckle-faced kid in third grade who kicked me in the shin afterward. Would Hardin have gone along with the dare? I doubt it. His lips are so pink and full, and my head plays an image of Hardin leaning over to kiss me and my pulse begins to race.