Page 25 of Built to Fall
Kara waves her hand in the general direction of the party while taking a sip out of her Solo Cup, as Eden says, “With Braxton.”
“Their whole situation is confusing. Are they getting back together?”
“I’m not sure. They’ve been like this ever since we came back for fall semester,” Eden explains. “None of us are entirely sure what actually happened, but it’s easy to assume that they broke up when they shouldn’t have, and now every time they see each other, they fall right back into place, completely unable to resist the temptation.”
“Braxton’s a good guy, but Meredith is a whole other level of stubborn. Ever since they broke up, they’ve been in the same cycle of pretending to ignore each other, fighting, then having sex and pretending it doesn’t happen. It’s exhausting to watch, honestly,” Kara adds before emphasizing, “They’re amess.”
“What do you blame it on?” I always enjoy hearing her psychological analyses. She’s good at it, being a neuroscience major.
“Human brains don’t fully develop until the age of twenty-five. We’re legally impulsive. They probably broke up without realizing how much it would affect them being apart.”
I take a sip of my drink, trying to figure out if I’m supposed to say something more. I don’t know enough about their relationship to comment on the“mess”she’s in. I wasn’t around for the majority of it, but the whole dynamic seems heavy. I can’t help but wonder if it’s just the tip of the iceberg.
“Do you want another drink?” Eden asks me, pulling me out of my thoughts. I glance down at my half-empty cup. It’s probably not a good idea to have more alcohol, but the warmth spreading through me tells me I don’t mind.
“Sure,” I reply. “Why not?”
She grins, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint as she pours me another cup.
The night wears on, and between the easy flow of conversation and the constant topping off of drinks, I feel the effects creeping in.
I try to stay composed, but my thoughts blur together, my limbs feeling a little too loose, a little too light. The music thumps louder, vibrating through the walls, becoming too much to revel in.
“Alright, that’s enough for me,” I mutter to myself, setting my cup down a little too hard on the counter. I push my way through the crowd, stumbling a little in my kitten heels.
I need to get out of here. Right now.
“Lina? You okay?” Eden asks, starting to follow me out of the kitchen, but the guy she had been talking to grabs her arm, keeping her stationary.
Eden’s natural instinct is to make sure everyone’s alright, and him holding her back clearly bothers her.
Usually, before she finds a guy to hook up with for the night, she scans the room to make sure everyone’s okay.
Once, she even climbed in a hot tub at a party freshman year because Meredith had gotten so drunk that she fell in.
I stop to turn back and face her quickly. I’m not trying to make things feel different, or like I need a babysitter. “Yeah, I’m good. Just need some air.”
She doesn’t say anything else. Maybe it’s because my face gives the impression that I need to be alone right now. She also doesn’t follow when I turn toward the back door and rush out. I don’t even realize I’m dry heaving until I make it to the side of the yard.
Bracing my hands against the wooden fence, I try to steady the spinning in my head. My breath comes short, my chest is tight, my throat is raw from coughing. All I can think about is how stupid of an idea this was. How stupidIam. For coming. For drinking. For thinking I could handle any of this.
“Hey, are you alright?” I hear a hazy voice ask from behind me.
I turn to see a familiar head of platinum blond hair coming closer, the clicking of her heels punctuating the air between us.
Savannah.
She’s changed outfits since I saw her earlier, but she looks no less chic in her off-white cargo mini-skirt, pink ruffle tank top, and a matching Dior satchel bag.
Her hair practically glows under the night sky, and her red lip gloss pops against her porcelain skin like a beacon. She has thateffortless kind of beauty that doesn’t get any less impressive. Stark. Unmistakable. The kind of girl who you can’t help but stare at every time you see her.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I tell her, dragging in a deep breath.
She doesn’t seem convinced but doesn’t press further. Instead, her eyes flick over me one more time. “I’ll be right back. Stay here, okay?”
Another wave of dizziness comes over, making it difficult to do anything but nod as she retreats back into the house. There’s no way I’ll be going anywhere soon, regardless.
Footsteps come up behind me again a few minutes later, but they sound heavier this time, and when I turn, I’m met with the sight of a messy head of brown hair, connected to a cocky smile and broad shoulders.
