Burdened (A Burdened Novel) (9 page)

“Don’t, Scott,” I say snobby, echoing him the best I can as I roll my eyes. Grabbing Sam’s sleeved arm from my shoulder, I drag him through the group of guys without looking at
him
.

“Wow, what was
that
about?” Sam asks, after we’ve left the kitchen.

“Nothing,” I answer, taking a small drink from the bottle as we approach the crowd.

He walks away as Glen comes over—the moment she spots me. “I think I just saw Scott here.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I shrug, handing her the bottle. “Here, it tastes better now.”

She grabs it, taking a full gulp. “I’m going to need this whole bottle if you’re telling me I need to ignore the fact that he is here.”

“Okay, because that’s what I’m saying.” She gives me a sad look and hands me the bottle. I wave it off—I’m not that big of a drinker. The two sips I had were enough for me. She shrugs and downs the entire bottle. “Umm, Glen, I don’t think that was good idea.”

“I don’t care!” she half-shouts, then looks over my shoulder. Her expression turns distressed.

I turn to look, seeing Scott looking back at us angrily. Not a face I want directed at me. Turning from him, I grab Glen by her shoulder, leading her back into the crowd. “Come
on, let’s continue on with this party.”

Drinks have kicked in and everyone is loose—Glen especially. Some other guys that none of us seem to know welcome themselves to dance with our group. The music, which is up-tempo, playing through rap, techno, and house music, has everybody in their zone.

A guy comes up behind Glen, turning her around by her shoulder. I’m turned away from her to a guy I don’t recognize, doing the same turn-move on me. I dance with him, engaging in small talk and smiles. He moves a little closer to me, pulling me against him and then he grabs my ass.

I yelp because of a jolting shock I received and I roughly push him away. Wait…that jerk just grabbed
my ass
!

The shit just hit the fan. I turn full-hulk. “You do
not
touch me!” I scream at the top of my lungs, pointing at him. “Who the hell do you think you are? You do
not
put your hands on me!” I charge toward him and Glen pulls me back.

The guy is laughing as he starts to walk back to me with his arms out—as if to welcome me in them.

Scott and Nathan walk in front of him, cutting off his path. Blocking him from my vision, I can’t see anything but their backs and broad shoulders.

“I think it’s time for you to go home,” they say simultaneously. The two other guys that are with them stay off to the side.

My blood boils, because I have more to say. I push through the two cousins. “What the hell is your problem!? You do
not
touch me. You especially
don’t
grab my ass! Who the fuck do you think you are!? You don’t know me!”

People are calling my name, telling me to calm down. I’m not hearing any of it. I am two seconds away from punching this douche in his face.

“So what are you saying?” the jerk starts. “You didn’t like it? You looked like you were having a good time. I was just ready to take it to the next level. You know,” he smirks, “trying to get to know you better.” He winks at me, then smiles the most disgusting smile as he licks his lips with way too much tongue and spit.

I want to barf.

I charge, arm drawn back. As I’m close enough for my fist to make contact with his face, one big arm wraps around my waist, pulling me against his body, filling me with warmth and calm. My stomach flutters with butterflies as I feel my back pressed against his firm chest.

He leans down behind me, taking my breath away as he brings his face next to mine. He moves my hair from the side of my face and whispers in my ear, “Calm down, Tracey. I got it.” My body shivers from the chill of him being so close.

I have no choice but to calm down—I’m no longer mad. I’m actually really calm. I look at him and he pushes me behind him protectively.

I peek around his back, feeling like a child.

The jerk is downright drunk. “So what? She’s dancing with me, and we were having a good time. Plus, she’s cute.” When he speaks, his words are slurs and he is not taking the situation serious enough for me. He looks around
him
to me and kisses the air, then does this flicking thing with his tongue. EW! He mouths, “Let’s take this upstairs.”

He
looks at Scott. “You know this dick?”

Scott looks at the annoying jerk. “Nope,” he answers calmly.

He moves, no longer in front of me, and quickly punches the idiot in the face. The jerk hits the floor and two other guys replace where he was standing. They are the same height, but one has black hair, like the guy who just hit the floor, and the other has sandy-blond hair. They square off.

Scott shadows
him
, while daring the other two guys with a look that even scares me. The crowd steps back a little and Glen steps up next to me. “Cey, are you okay?”

I look to answer her, but before I can, I see from my peripheral vision someone pushing
him
. He takes a step back from the force of the push, but it didn’t seem to faze him. He doesn’t hit the guy.

Scott’s holding his arm back, shaking his head. “It’s not worth it. Just let it go. You know what we will do to them.” The music is low and everyone is looking in their direction. “The one that was causing the trouble is dealt with. Let it go.”

He looks back at Scott and nods. “You’re right.” Looking back at the guys, “I think you all should leave. Next time, ‘let it go’ won’t work and he—” he nods his head towards Scott, “—and I will make sure you don’t see another girl, yet alone touch one.” His words are calm—there’s no stutter to his deep voice.

My chest starts to ache, craving for a conversation with
him
.

The boys don’t move instantly.
He
and Scott turn fully to them, giving them some type of look that instills fear. They pick up their jerk friend from the floor and leave.

“
Ohhh-Kay!” somebody says from the crowd. The music turns back up.

He
turns around, looking as if he’s going to either say something to me or walk up to me. Scott steps up next to him and pushes him towards the other side of the room. The other two guys that they came with follow after them.

“Come on,
Cey. Let’s finish having a good time.” Glen pulls my arm. I don’t feel like it, at this point. My chest is starting to hurt, and the high I got from the music and dancing has worn off.

Somebody always has to ruin my good time.

“Hey Glen, come dance with me.” Eric stands in front of us, looking like a puppy who wants to get scratched.

“GO ahead, Glen. Have a good time. I’m going to go to the kitchen and get something to drink.”

“Okay, I’ll look for you when you get back.”

I walk away, heading to the kitchen, when I run into Andrew. “Hey, you okay? Not cool that the dude was touching you like that.”

“Yeah, thanks for asking, but I’m over it.”

“You headed to the kitchen? There is not much left in there.”

“Something to drink?” I pause. “A regular drink?”

“Nope, gone.”

“Damn,” I say, shaking my head.

“You want to walk out to the back? There’s a fridge out there with some drinks, but you can’t tell anyone. I want at least one part of my house to not be messed up.”

“I got you.” He leads the way. “So what made you throw this party anyway? Your mom would kill you if she found out.” Andrew isn’t as tall as most of the guys, although he’s taller than me—but only by a couple of inches. He has warm brown skin and always wears his hair short. He has the nicest things, because his mom spoils him, from his cars to his clothes.

“No reason at all. I am just one of the only people who haven’t thrown one ever, and my place is big enough.” He shrugs.
“Wanted to at least throw one before we graduate.”

His house is full of people, spread out through multiple areas. We push and shove our way through crowds as we try to make our way out of them. “Why is your house this big?” I ask
, to initiate conversation.

He smiles. “My mom likes big things. You should see her room.”

We have walked through three rooms about the size of my one living room. “I believe you.” We corner a landing where people aren’t around and walk through sliding doors that lead out to a deck. It is the size of a small cottage and his backyard is the size of his house. I’m only exaggerating slightly.

“In about an hour, I’m going to make everybody come to the backyard so I can start to clean the house. We can move the music out here and everything. But you all won’t have access to the deck, hopefully that will keep this area untouched.” He points behind me. “There is the fridge. Help yourself.”

He sits on one of the bar stools that’s pulled out in front of the bar that’s attached to his deck. I walk over to the fridge, which is full of all types of bottled drinks. Choosing a Lipton tea with lemon, I walk over to the bar and sit on the stool beside him.

“It’s nice out here. I would love for this to be my backyard.” I crack open my tea. “I’d probably sleep ou
t here every night in the summer.”

“Yeah, it is. I do sleep out here when it’s warm sometimes. My dad and I used to set up tents and pretend to camp out here—before he passed.” He doesn’t look sad at his words, just like he is recalling those moments.

“Yeah, that had to be awesome.” I don’t want to feel sorry for him, because I hate it when people say ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’

“It was.” He gets up, walking over to the fridge and grabs himself a Coke. “I know you probably want to get back to the party, but if you can wait ‘til we’re finished with our drinks, I would appreciate it. I don’t want people asking ‘where did you get that?’” He shakes his head. “They have eaten me out of house and home. I’m going to have to go to the store to buy more food, so my mom won’t suspect anything.”

“I don’t have a problem with waiting. I lost my party mood anyway. Where’s your mom?”

“She had some business trip to go on. So I took advantage of the opportunity. She’ll be back in a couple of days. Who was that guy that punched that idiot for you?”

I shrug. “Scott’s cousin.”

He shrugs his shoulder, like I did. “Scott’s cousin,” he mocks me. “Umm, yeah, I got that. But who is he to you?”

“You know, Andrew, I don’t even know. I met him the other day. He’s just a friend.” I scrunch my eyebrows, looking at him confused. “Well, I don’t even know if I would call him a friend.”

He smiles at me. “I don’t know too many non-friends who would knock a guy out for someone.”

“Yeah, I know, right?” I look up at the sky, staring at the stars circling the moon. They remind me of swirling eyes.

“You know,” he starts, as he sits back down on the bar stool. “I heard my mom say once, ‘your mind can’t resist what your heart wants.’”

I look at him intently. How could he know? “Why do you say that?”

“Because of the look on your face
now, and the look on your face when he walked away.” He gulps his coke. “I’ve only seen it twice before.” He leans back on his arms, holding his weight on the bar. “It was on my mom when my dad was going to leave a long time ago, but he didn’t, then again when he passed. But the difference was, he wasn’t coming back. My mom and dad were real love. When he walked away from her the first time, the same look that was on her face was on yours while you watched him walk away from you—admiration, and hurt from rejection.” He breathes. “If you know it could be love, or that you feel a certain way and it will not fade over a matter of time—months, years, or even decades—go after it, chase it, until you can’t any longer.” He looks me in my eyes. “You may be young, but love has no age restrictions. It’s not an easy thing to come by. And by the looks of it, he shares those same looks.” He takes another drink. “I don’t see why you all are not entertaining the interest.”

I butt in. “Me neither.” I drink from my tea, my chest starting to hurt again. “I guess
I—”

The sliding door opens, cutting me off.

“Hey, nobody can come out here. Party is only inside right now,” Andrew says, turning around to see who it is.

“Sorry, man. I just came out here to talk to Tracey. I saw you walk out here with her.” There
he
is again, just popping up at the most awkward moments.

Andrew looks at me. “What do you say?
Your call.”

I look at
him
before I answer Andrew. I chuckle to myself. “Yeah, that’s fine,” as if I could say no.

“Alright, I’m going back inside to make sure nothing is broken. Let me know before you go,” Andrew says, getting down from the barstool.

“Okay. Thanks,” I shake my bottle, “for the tea.” Although, I mean for more than that.

“No problem,
Cey.” He walks past
him
, through the open sliding door, and slides it closed behind him.