Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 120029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
I won’t be chickening out.
If I survived last night, I can deal with Richie.
I force my legs to move, but it’s like an out-of-body experience, and just thinking that takes me back to last night. I laid there, lifeless, soul floating above. But it couldn’t have happened, or I would have been dead. Maybe it’s best to remember the good parts of my hallucination. The dashing red-haired knight was most definitely a highlight.
As soon as I walk in, I’m hit by the smell of weed, cigarette smoke, and perfume. The party isn’t even in full swing yet, but the frat house is already packed with people dancing, flirting, laughing, yelling to each other over the music. I’m not the most sociable guy on my best days, but the mask helps me feel a bit safer, isolating me from being recognized as ‘Richie’s boyfriend’. The lights are a mix of green and yellow for a spooky vibe, and every now and then, fake lightning illuminates the window at the end of the hallway as the rumble of thunder comes from a small speaker surrounded by empty bottles and cups.
The amount of people crowding every inch of space is overwhelming, so I drift upstairs, stepping over a girl so drunk she’s laughing at every single word coming from her companion’s mouth.
The loud pop music blasting at me from every direction is far from my favorite, but I’m not here to have fun, so I ignore all the sexy policewomen and nurses to finally end up in the second floor. It’s a bit less crowded here, but when I reach the open door to my almost-ex’s room, it’s being used by a group of his frat brothers for what looks like an impromptu arm-wrestling tournament. They are all dressed as gladiators, Greek gods, and barbarians, which is so not my scene. I flee before any of them can spot me.
After a fruitless search upstairs, I make my way back to the main party area. The drunk girl is now asleep and covered with someone’s furry cape, but I can only pay her so much attention if I’m to find Richie and end things.
Just as I pass the large kitchen, his warm voice reaches my ears. Bingo.
There are no speakers here, so I can follow the conversation, but as I step inside, hidden behind a bunch of drunk people munching on what I suspect to be hash brownies, my confidence dwindles further. What if I don’t express myself right and he needs to ask questions? What if his friends laugh at me? Maybe it’s less awkward if I let him finish his current conversation first?
Dressed as a sexy cowboy, Richie’s leaning against the counter. Jeans hug his thighs, he’s in a fringed leather vest that shows off his bare chest and has a cowboy hat to finish the look. He does look hot, I have to give him that.
I hang around the kitchen counter decorated with pumpkins and pretend I’m very focused on the choice of beers. It’s easy to see that the guy dressed in leopard print overalls, cat ears included, is drinking every word from Richie’s lips like it’s ambrosia while stealing glances at my soon-to-be-ex’s abs. Why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t him Richie left for dead.
“…so I stuffed all those puppies in my duffel bag, ten puppies, Ian, can you imagine? And I could already hear people yelling, so I just made a run for it. And then these crazies literally started shooting! Pow, pow, pow, at least twenty times. And all I was thinking was about those puppies, you know? Like, when you see something like that happening, you just have to act. I don’t care if it was illegal. At least now they’re safe.”
Ian nods fervently, lips open, eyes glued to Richie like he’s the second coming of Jesus. “Oh, my God, yes. You’re fucking amazing.”
One of Richie’s buddies, who’s dressed as a mechanic, swallows a long swig of booze and clears his throat. “Was whatshisname there too?”
My heart stops, waiting for the acknowledgement I’m owed even if I’m not the hero of this semi-fictitious story, but Richie sighs, leaning a bit closer to Ian. “Well, he bailed. Maybe you could be my sidekick next time?”
Rage spins through my head, scalding every thought, and before I can think, the carved pumpkin that’s been staring at me since I entered the kitchen flies above the crowd. Richie only avoids being hit square in the head due to his superior reflexes.
“You stinking liar!”
Do I sound a bit shrill?
Is this loss of control embarrassing?
Maybe, but I can’t stop the explosive emotions from ripping out of me.
Richie blinks, and darn, do I like the flush on his cheeks. He’s been caught in a lie and knows it.
“You took the car and left me there, you coward! You didn’t even bother to check if I was fine!” I scream, tearing the mask off my face when a loose thread tickles the corner of my eye.