Page 19 of Your Fault

I don’t know why she was so fixated on calling him that. Nicholas wasn’t mine, was he? Honestly, at that moment, I had no idea.

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” I responded. But of course I did.

I didn’t understand why, but Jenna always defended him whenever we had a fight or argument. Maybe she’d known him all her life, but she wasmyfriend—she should be takingmyside and defendingme.

“You outdid yourself, Jenna,” I said.

The night started with a bang. Someone—or more than just someone—had brought along alcohol, and in less than an hour, all those present were drunk and stumbling over the dance floor. The lights started blinking, and I found myself surrounded by people. Siblings, cousins, friends of the graduates were in attendance. It started to weird me out when I felt a bunch of guys I didn’t know rubbing up on me and trying to get me to dance. I pushed them away and walked off the dance floor. I was sweating, and I stood to one side, where a bartender was serving shots to the older people. I’d already had a few drinks. I wasn’t drunk, but I was buzzing.

“You want one?” a girl asked me when the bartender walked away for more ice. On the table were crystal glasses with a thick pale liquid in them over ice.

“What are those?” I asked suspiciously.

“White Russians.”

If she’d said Red Frenchmen, it wouldn’t have mattered. I had no idea what that meant.

“It’s vodka, Kahlúa, and cream. Delicious. They say it’s anaphrodisiac.” She batted her eyes. Was she flirting with me?

Just what I needed, a girl hitting on me! But the thought of coffee was enough for me to forget her sexual orientation and grab one of the drinks off the table. I put the straw in my mouth and tried it.

“Oh my God, it’s delicious!” I shouted. The girl laughed.

The vodka was hardly noticeable. It didn’t burn at all; it tasted like a coffee-flavored milkshake.

I looked closer at the girl. She wasn’t familiar at all. She must have been a friend or relative of one of the graduates. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail on the top of her head.

I went on drinking my new favorite cocktail. Jenna was dancing with Lion on the dance floor. Without realizing it, I drank two more and fell into conversation with the girl, whose name was Dana. She was nice, and either I was just drunk, or she was incredibly funny. One of her jokes made me laugh so hard that I was unable to react when she grabbed the back of my neck and planted a kiss on my lips. It was so quick and so unexpected that I needed a second to push her away.

“What are you doing?” I asked, feeling woozy.

She just laughed. “I wanted to taste the vodka on your lips,” she said.

The situation was so surreal that I didn’t know what to say.

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” I told her a few seconds later, or maybe it was minutes—I don’t know. The alcohol was coursing through my brain. Had I just kissed a girl?

“It was only a peck. Relax,” she replied, her eyes turning quickly to something or someone behind me.

I shivered.

I could feel him even before I turned to see if it was him. There Nicholas was, his bright eyes seeing straight through me even from far away. He hurried over.

“You should go,” I told Dana hurriedly. I was afraid for her life.

She chuckled, grabbed her White Russian, and walked onto the dance floor, disappearing just as Nick came around in front of me.

“So you like girls now?” he said, looking like he was trying to remain calm.

I didn’t let him intimidate me.

“Maybe?” I told him, irritated. I was furious with him. He’d left me hanging on the day of my graduation, surrounded by people I didn’t want to see, feeling alone, and to top it off, someone had kissed me without my permission.

“What are you drinking?” he asked, taking the glass out of my hands.

I thought he was going to set it down, but instead, he drank it. I should have been angrier, but already my only thought was to savor that liquid on his lips, just as the girl had done with me. A White Russian on those lips…delicious…

“You know how much alcohol this has in it?” he said after draining the glass and setting it down behind me. I wanted to feel him out; I wasn’t sure what kind of mood he was in… I mean, I knew he was angry, but his eyes harbored something else.

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