Page 22 of Semi Sweet
I watched Max almost smirk before Beth punched him in the arm. "No way. What are you going to do?"
I stared at my shoes and my face became warm, not just from alcohol. "Honestly, I have no idea." I felt like I was becoming fuzzy. "I guess I want to ask him why."
"What about Evan?" Max asked. "Isn't he the jealous, possessive type?"
For the first time all night and since he left for his trip, I saw my fiancé's face in my mind. I found myself scowling as I reached for a bottle of tequila, something different than before, and poured myself another shot.
"He's too busy squashing my aspirations and drinking bourbon to even know what's going on." I practically begged, "Please don't tell him. I know this whole cupcake thing seems insignificant, but it is literally my reason for waking up some days."
Beth looked concerned, but it quickly vanished when her companion mentioned something under his breath about getting written up and she stomped on his foot with an elevator shoe.
"Come on," Beth said as the music pulsed. "Let's dance."
I followed behind her, and noticed Max stayed planted at the bar. He was confusing me anyway, so it was no love lost. I danced without a care in the world, forgetting Evan and even why I was there in the first place. I couldn't recall the last time I’d drank four shots, maybe when I was in college, but my life had changed so much since then that I’d forgotten. Somehow, I danced with so much fervor that Beth was nowhere to be found. I was in a new sea of people.
The song changed to an ABBA song that I remembered being in a movie musical I'd watched on a weekend Evan had been busy at corporate. There had been a scene where the couple who were about to be married passionately declared their love for each other. Even before all this cupcake business, I remembered thinking that my relationship never felt that way. Did people actually paw at each other like that or was it all Hollywood and romance novels?
Someone knocked into me. I felt warm and giggly and decided that I probably should have stopped after three shots. I was drunk.
"Sorry," I managed to get out.
I froze in place when I heard someone's voice in my ear. "I think you should listen to the words to this song." The voice was deep and almost sounded like it was smiling.
My heart seized. Was it possible? I turned my head to see who was talking to me, but all the alcohol in my veins made my surroundings hazy. It took several seconds for them to catch up to me. I looked for anyone or anything that could give away my secret admirer, but all I could see and feel were bodies dancing around me.
I think you should listen to the words to this song.
As I stood even higher on my tiptoes to see the crowd, I tried to sing along. The song was well known. The lyrics spoke about how the person wasn't the jealous type, but now they were so unhinged they were in trouble. They needed the subject of the song to tell them they were the only one they had feelings for.
My eyes widened when I realized the song was a clue. Not a clue, a confession. I bumped into whoever was playing this game with me. Had he requested it? Had it been a coincidence? I pushed through the crowd, trying to get to the edge, seeing if I would have better luck finding whoever it was from that angle.
I continued to listen intently. The song continued to talk about how they were head over heels for whoever they were singing about and how they were unsatisfied when they weren't around. Was I unsatisfied? This particular verse spoke to me. Here I was dying with anticipation to discover the identity of someone I thought I was falling hard for, while my husband-to-be was away on business trying to become a tycoon like his parents before him. I might have been drunk, but I still should have been more nervous. Or guilty. I was definitely unsatisfied and had been for years. This ordeal had made me realize that, if nothing else.
"Would you like a shot?"
A guy in a mask had walked by with a tray. The voice wasn't the same. I scanned the crowd before I grabbed one and downed my fifth. I was going to feel shitty in the morning, but it was too late now. I'd made my decisions and now I had to ride them out.
I listened to the chorus of the song again and wanted to scream in frustration because the more I searched, the more the world seemed to sway. I decided to keep listening, inching back towards the crowd, wondering if Meg and Ariana from the front end were whispering about me somewhere. I was too far gone to care.
I actually yelped when someone grabbed me by the wrist, my concentration broken. This was the part of the song where the person admitted they were past the point of no return and the person they loved had become an obsession. I looked up, slowly processing the tall man that was gently holding onto me. In the darkness, through my murky head, I could have sworn I recognized his jawline or the broadness of his shoulders. He wore a mask just like I did, with dark jeans and a black button-down shirt. It was open a little, the only indication of the disco theme.
I shouted to be heard over the noise. "Are you him?"
The masked man smirked at me. I felt a jolt in my stomach at the sight of his smile. "I don't know," he answered. "What do you think?"
"WHO ARE YOU?" I pleaded.
Chapter Thirteen: Fated Encounter
Hedidn'tanswerme.Instead, he guided me deeper into the crowd on the dance floor. Even though the song was a fast tempo, he brought his arms to the small of my back and we moved to our own time, separate from the wild rager that was happening around us. I was so close to finding out who was standing before me. All I had to do was reach up and take off his mask and the mystery would be solved. I slid the hand I’d placed by the back of his neck up towards his face.
The song changed. It was another ABBA hit and the crowd around us surged. I was ripped away from my mysterious dance partner, a group circle dance forming where I’d just been standing.
"No!" I wailed, trying to fight against hands that were trying to get me to join in.
It was the first time all night that the alcohol was no longer making me feel happy-go-lucky and confident. What did black-out drunk feel like? I could see the party and have an inner monologue, but I felt like I was on an amusement park ride.Go home.My brain told me.Get on the train before you pass out and Evan has to come home early.I could only imagine the reprimand I'd receive. Probably something about how I represented the Quitteros while they were away and how embarrassed my behavior had made them. I told myself I didn't care what they thought, but Evan scolding me typically made me cry. Avoiding that would probably be wise.
At least I'd gotten to speak and even dance with whoever my mystery person was. It wasn't a prank. He was a full-fledged, tangible man. That still didn't stop me from being gloomy as I pried myself free, waved goodbye to Beth and Max, and walked to the train station. I peeled the mask from my face. I still had no idea who he was. I had no department or name, just the fact he was tall and seemed familiar, but goddamn it if I could place him.
