I honestly don’t know why I’m still here. I guess it’s better to be here and forget about my home situation for a little while than to go home and face reality.
But the party kind of blows.
For me, anyway. I don’t know anyone and have no prospects for who I’ll spend my night with. And to make matters worse, I can’t even get a cab home because I can’t afford it. I could text Jay and ask him if he could send me some money for a cab or an Uber, but if I do, he’ll ask questions, and if he asks questions, I’ll have to tell him what my mom did and—
“Fuck it,” I whisper, pulling out my phone. How’s it fair that I’m gonna have to walk home because my mom sucks. And maybe I’ll get lucky, and Jay won’t—
“That bored, huh?” I look up from my phone and see a guy towering over me. His dark eyes darting from my phone to my own eyes. His five o’clock shadow perfectly complements his warm, umber skin.
“Do you hockey players own anything other than that hoodie?” I question since it’s the third one I’ve seen tonight. However, it’s the first time I’ve seen someone in the hoodie, and I hoped I’d be the one removing it tonight.
“The hoodie’s not the only piece of clothing I own.” He smirks, pulling the hoodie over his head—
So much for me removing it.
But I can’t even complain because as his hoodie comes off, his shirt comes up, exposing his bare stomach and the tattoos he was covering up. He throws the hoodie on the empty spot next to me on the couch and pulls down his t-shirt.
“I also own this t-shirt,” he continues, and I laugh as I readRockford Hockeyacross the t-shirt.
“So, is hockey your whole personality or just a large chunk?” I wonder.
“Hmm, pretty much the whole thing,” he says. “I’d say at least ninety-eight percent.”
He sits beside me and rests against the back of the couch in the same spot where his hoodie lays.
“And the other two percent?”
“Tattoos are part of that two percent… and the other part, I guess you’ll just have to find out.”
“Alright, I’ll bite.”
“Me too, but only if you let me.”
“Ha, does that actually work for you?”
“I don’t know, you tell me dollface.”
It does. It really does, which is absolutely pathetic because how’s a line like that working on me? Anddollface? Are you serious? If anyone else called me that, I’d be running in the opposite direction so fast, but something about him, I don’t know, I’m curious. It’s the eyes… it has to be the eyes.
“I’m gonna take that as a yes.” Hegrins.
I was wrong. It’s the smile. The smile’s what does it.
“I’m Zeke.” He puts out his hand, and I shake it.
“Avalon.”
“Well, Avalon,” he begins, “is our celebration so boring that you resorted to scrolling through your phone?”
“I was actually getting ready to get a cab.”
“Oo, it’s worse than I thought. It’s so boring that you’re already leaving, and the party isn’t even in its prime yet.”
“I guess it’s just not for me.”
“What can we do to change that?” he asks, and I don’t miss the way he moves a little closer as he does.
“I don’t know, what’d you have in mind?”