Page 35 of Unspoken Rules

“That’s me,” I say, topping off my rum with some cola.

“Tomas,” he says, pressing his hand to his chest. “We know each other from that stupid dating app.”

I take in his bright smile, shaggy blond hair, and honey brown eyes. He’s cute. I search my brain, forcing away the image of that girl on Chris’s dick, and focus on the task at hand. Tomas, from a dating app? It hits me.

“Oh, shit. How’s it going?” I ask, picking up my drink and sipping from the top so it doesn’t spill. I may have filled it up quite a bit.

I’m glad I remember this guy and don’t have to pretend I do or make him feel awkward by admitting I don’t. My senior year, I’d tried out a gay dating app. Met a few guys, but never met up* with any of them. I was too chicken.

“Not much. Didn’t realize you were coming back to town. You moved to New York, right?” he asks, reaching for a bottle of vodka and the cranberry juice to make himself a drink.

“Rhode Island, actually. But yeah. I graduated, so here I am.” I gesture around, smiling.

“Congrats. That’s great.”

“The graduating part, maybe.”

He chuckles and we make our way outside, drinks in hand.

“So how do you know Mark?” he asks.

“We went to high school together. How do you?”

“Their bassist, Rex, he’s my older brother.”

“Small world,” I comment. I’m not familiar with any of Mark’s bandmates. They aren’t the same people I remember him playing with in high school, which is probably why they’re doing much better.

“Small town,” he responds.

“Ain’t that the truth?”

The music stops, and Mark comes on the mic. “We’re going to take a break to get some dranks!” The crowd whoops and applauses, and they all flood toward the house. So glad I got out here when I did.

Knocking echoes around the yard. I look around, trying to figure out where it’s coming from, noting many people are doing the same. The sound isn’t a normal knocking on wood or on a door but sounds almost underwater. When someone points up to the house, barking out a laugh, I look that way.

“Holy fuck,” I mutter, shaking my head.

There is no way in hell…

Chris has the blond girl against the window, her tits smushed against the glass, fucking her from behind, holding up the universal symbol for rock and roll. I look away, and immediately my gaze finds Mila, who looks like she’s going to throw up. She stares for a moment, turns green, and rushes off.

“Hey, I gotta go,” I say to Tomas, hurrying after Mila who ran to the front of the house. I toss my drink in a can I pass on the way, but not before guzzling as much as I can without choking on the ice.

She’s getting into her red Buggy when I round the house, which is parked in the small semi-circle driveway.

“Mila!” I call, hurrying over. She waits for me to reach her, but when I get there, I have nothing to say.

“I just need to get out of here for a bit,” she says calmly.

“Can I come with you?”

She smiles, but it’s sad. “Sure.”

I move around to the other side and get into the passenger seat. I’m not worried about her doing anything stupid, like hurting herself or running away. Mila has always been clear-headed and logical. Though, I say that, and she’s still somehow a mess over Chris. She backs out of the driveway and heads away from town. We end up at a park that has a few walking trails, so we get out of the car and walk one.

“How long has he been like this?” I ask after about five minutes of silence.

Mila shrugs, shaking her head. “Little over a year. He drank often the moment he turned twenty-one, but something about this last year has made him worse. I don’t know…”

---