Page 133 of Becoming Us
We were still sweaty from playing; the dressing room was cramped and stifling, but nothing had ever felt quite like this.
As I laughed with these guys—guys I’d only met a month ago—it hit me, deep in my bones.
What I was feeling was the one thing I’d always craved but never quite found.
I felt like I belonged.
Brice did drag us out to celebrate. It was a huge house party near the beach. All the doors and windows were open, people spilling in and out, music thumping louder than in a club. It had been a while since I’d been to a party this wild.
My fingers tightened around Atty’s hand as I pushed away the familiar feeling I always got in places like this. Like I was missing something. Like it was close—just out of reach—and my hand was stretching for nothing. Carrying a beer bottle usually dulled that edge, gave me something to do. But holding Atty’s hand felt right. Grounding, in a way nothing else ever had.
Brice and Jaden were always mindful about drinking around their cousin, so this was the first time I’d seen them even entertain the notion of a party—and they were already losing their minds, racing to the makeshift dance floor and swaying to the beat.
“They’re just excited. They’ll calm down in a bit,” Paxton said, leaning in and nodding toward them.
That used to be me.
Only not quite. They were actually having fun. For me, it had only ever looked like fun on the outside. It never felt like it. And it definitely didn’t feel like it the next day, when I was nursing a hangover, my nose stuffed, and half my face screaming in pain.
I rolled my shoulder back and tightened my grip on Atty’s hand.
“This place is amazing,” Ezra bellowed, stepping between Paxton and me. His hand landed on both our shoulders. Paxton’s eyes zeroed in on it like a beacon. He leaned down,determination shifting his features, and whispered something in Ezra’s ear I couldn’t make out over the noise.
“Maybe later. I’m going to look around first,” Ezra called back. He stepped away, and Paxton watched him go, regret flickering across his face.
I stepped closer to him. “You ask him to dance?”
Paxton’s eyes snapped up to mine.
“He’s just oblivious as fuck, Pax. You’re going to have to spell it out, or you’ll be chasing him in circles for months.”
He looked like he might bolt, then gave me a sort of helpless shrug. “I’m not good at that kind of stuff. Not anymore.” His gaze drifted toward a group drinking nearby.
That, I understood. Relearning how to be a person without “help” was hard as fuck.
“You’ve got more game than you think. You just have to be real with him. Ez is a brutal honesty kind of guy. He’ll see through anything less.”
Paxton shrugged again. “Maybe,” he sighed.
That was a boundary if I’d ever seen one. I let it go and slipped my arm around Atty’s waist.
“I’m going to make a round.” Paxton patted my back before walking away.
I glanced at the crowd. Jaden and Brice were dancing again—Jaden kissing Lexie, Brice flirting with a girl, flashing that big, easy grin. I’d lost touch with this world. I wasn’t even sure I missed it.
Atty stood quietly beside me, watching too. His face was unreadable, stony, but there was a faint curve to his lips. His arm rested across my shoulders, and just like that, I was back at the party where we first met.
So much had changed since then.
Starting with one big difference I could cash in on right now.
I grinned and tugged his shirt to speak into his ear. “You wanna dance?”
His eyebrows rose, smile growing wider. He nodded, and a bolt of warmth shot through me. The only other time we’d done this was on my birthday—and the context had been very, very different.
I laced our fingers together, pulled him into the crowd, and turned in his arms.
Back then, I’d thought the kind of connection I’d felt between us was only possible because of the molly. That he’d never really felt that way about me. That I was just a stand-in until he found his person.
