Page 167 of The Surprise Play
And now she wants to bail.
Fuck, I can’t let that happen. Not when so many people have gone to so much effort.
But how do I coax her back inside?
“So… what are you doing out here?” I lean down, trying to catch her eye, but she looks past me at the house, her face scrunching into an even deeper frown before she dips her chin.
“Satch, baby, what’s wrong? Do you not like the party?” It’s impossible to hide my disappointment, and her head immediately pops up, her eyes wide with concern and maybe a touch of guilt.
“The party’s amazing.” She grabs my forearm, giving it a squeeze. “I can’t believe you orchestrated all of this. I can’t believe all of your friends went to so much effort for me.”
My insides settle as I skim my knuckle down her cheek. “You deserve it.”
She shakes her head, looking like she doesn’t believe me. “It’s alotof effort. And money.” She winces.
I want to tell her it’s nothing. Seriously. It’s no big deal. I’ve grown up around lavish parties my whole life, and this would be considered a cheap get-together in my mother’s eyes.
But I don’t want Satch to think she’s not worth more than a cheap party, so I glance over my shoulder at the house and murmur, “It was worth it. For you.” Turning back, I take her hands and give them a little swing. “But you’re standing out here and not being part of it.” My insides clench as I ask the question I don’t really want to, because what if her answer means I have to take her away from this? Licking my bottom lip, I say it anyway. “Why aren’t you in there having fun?”
Closing her eyes, she lets out a soft sigh. “I’m not very good in situations like this. Please don’t get me wrong, I’m so touched that you would do this for me. I’m just not used to parties the way you are.” She squirms and tries to let go of my hands, but I hold on, brushing my thumb across her knuckles.
“Satch.”
“People are looking at me… and I know they think we shouldn’t be together. You’re too good for me, and?—”
“What?” The sweet sentiment I was about to give her gets snatched away by a sharp irritation. “Why are you saying that?”
She sniffs and tugs her hands free with enough force that I have to let her go. Crossing her arms, she hunches her shoulders, and I fucking hate this.
Anger boils hot and fast as an ugly realization dawns. It sharpens my voice, and I end up snapping at her, “Did someone say that to you?”
She shakes her head, shrinking away from me.
Oh, fuck this…
Crouching down, I get in her face and whisper, “Satch, talk to me. Please.”
“I don’t want to make a big deal out it,” she mumbles.
“This isyourparty, and if someone’s saying nasty shit to you, then they canfuck off! I will go in there right now and I will drag them out of that house, because?—”
“No!” Her head jolts up, her eyes bulging as she snatches my arm. “I don’t want you to make a big scene or anything. They’ll just cause trouble.”
“They?” I spin to glare at the house. “Who?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Itdoesmatter.” I turn to face her again. “Satch, no one should ever be saying mean shit to you, especially when it’s your night. I’m not gonna let anyone screw with it. Now, you tell me who said it and they’regone.”
Her face bunches into a pained frown. “I don’t want you to do that. I don’t want a big scene.” Her voice catches, and she starts blinking like she’s fighting tears. “Please, Wily, can we just forget this? I just…” She lets out ashort breath. “I don’t want everyone talking about it, and then I have to go to class on Monday and they’ll—” Her voice catches, a panicked little sob ripping out of her.
“Okay.” I rub her arm, desperate to ease her stress. “It’s okay. Shhh, baby, it’s okay.”
Tucking her against my chest, I cup the back of her head and hold her close.
I wonder if she can hear how fast my heart is beating.
I’m furious with whoever told her we shouldn’t be together. What the actual fuck!
