Page 60 of My Debacle with De Lorenzo

Charlotte walks through the glass doors onto the patio and a bright smile beams on her face when she sees me. “Hi, Dylan,” she greets in her usual high-pitched voice as sits down beside me. Her hair is spray-painted half-black, half-white, and her faux fur coat falls off her shoulder as she shifts closer.

“Uh...hey...hi, Charlotte. Cute get up. Cruella De Ville?”

Her cheeks flush. “Yeah, thanks. Thought I’d ditch the good girl persona for one night and be the villain.”

“And how’s that working out for you? Please tell me you haven’t killed any puppies.”

“No, I could never hurt a puppy,” she replies with a shy giggle. “I was aiming to...to bebadin other ways tonight.” Her hand lightly brushes my thigh. “I’ll give you a hint. It involves you.”

That was very direct, and it sort of makes me uncomfortable because she’s cute, but I don’t like her like that. I’m still thinking of a way to subtly change the topic when Amanda shifts and straddles her legs over Scott’s lap. Charlotte doesn’t seem to care because there are couples all around us making out, but I care because they’re right next to me. I move two inches to the right until my shoulder is flush against Charlotte’s, and I cringe when her smile widens because she probably took that as me trying to make a move on her.

“Why don’t we go to the hot tub?” Amanda suggests seductively.

“I’m not into killing puppies either,” I tell Charlotte, trying to ignore Amanda’s pre-sex talk and play dumb simultaneously.

She hits my arm. “That’s not what I meant, silly.” She says something else, but I don’t quite catch it because Scott talks at the same time.

“Wow, that is...so tempting, but, um...” It sounds like he’s dying inside. “I didn’t...I didn’t bring my...shorts.”

“You don’t need any clothes for what I have planned for you. I’m gonna...” The rest of Amanda’s words disappear as she leans closer to whisper in his ear.

While she’s nuzzling his neck, he has the nerve to slap the back of his hand against my chest, silently begging me to help him out of this, and I still refuse.

Amanda pulls back slightly. “I’m going to check if it’s empty, and I’ll come back and get you.”

“Yes!” No hesitation. Scott is all over that escape plan. “Please, do that. Go check and then...come right back.”

He barely waits for her to squeeze through the crowd before he stands. “I want you to know that I’ll never forgive you for what you did to me tonight...but I’m not gonna be petty. Behavior is all about choices and I’m choosing not to strangle you. I’m gonna get outta her here before she gets back, though.” He takes two steps inside but returns just as fast and leans over the back of the couch so only I can hear him. “Dyl, there’s a bit of a situation happening with your girl inside.”

I grit my teeth. “She’s not my girl.”

“Whatever. She’snothaving a good time.”

“That’s not my problem, Scott.”

I don’t understand why he’s so concerned about the Diaz sisters all of a sudden, anyway. I know he keeps preaching about wanting to change, but even this is a step too far for him.

His hand slams down on my shoulder and he squeezes hard enough for me to know he’s serious. “I get that you might be a little butt-hurt because she’s here with another guy but put your pride aside. I have to get out of here, so I’m only asking you to intervene if shit escalates. Just keep an eye out and make sure nothing happens to her.”

“Make sure nothing happens?” That instantly puts me on edge, and I look up at him. “Like what? What are you talking about?”

“Just do it. And if you decide to intervene, don’t hit anyone.”

Scott is gone the next second, and I’m left feeling uneasy. At first, I thought he was hinting that Bella was drunk-dancing on the pool table or on the verge of throwing up, but he knows I don’t just go around hitting people, so that statement is enough to make me stand up.

“Sorry, Charlotte. I’m just gonna check on Isabella.”

“No, wait. Don’t leave. She’s with David. She’s fine.”

“I just need to make sure.”

I walk back inside, and it just takes one look at the situation for me to decide that I’m not waiting for this to escalate. I’m intervening right now.

Her other friends who were with her earlier have left and she’s alone with David in their little corner. The dim light provides a veil from inquisitive eyes. Because couples are making out everywhere, no one seems to notice that she’s trapped on the couch with that asshole. He’s leaning in to kiss her and I can see her trying to shift away, but she’s lethargically drunk. Her efforts are futile.

I walk over and her muffled words become clearer as I approach.

“David, stop.”

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