#el15

I'd never really been into drinking, or maybe it was more accurate to say I'd never tried it before. But as I stood there, emotions swirling inside me like a tornado, all I could think was that now was as good a time as any to give it a shot. I couldn't quite put my finger on what had come over me. Maybe it was the fear of yet another school year being ruined by people who walked all over me. Or perhaps it was the green-eyed monster that reared its head when Lacie claimed Jeremiah like he was the last slice of cake in the bakery.

Whatever it was, it had unleashed a side of me that felt entirely unfamiliar. I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing, but instead of dwelling on it, I decided to live in the moment. I took the shot Wade offered me, not bothering to see what Jeremiah had chosen to do. If he wanted to go with her, that was his choice.

Turns out, alcohol tasted disgusting. Like battery acid sliding down my throat, causing waves of discomfort in my stomach. I winced, crinkling my eyes shut and attempting to wipe away any lingering liquid that hadn't quite made it into my mouth. Seriously, what was all the buzz about?

"Atta girl! Belly here is going to be the best thing that happened to BCHS," Wade declared triumphantly, his arm around me. How could it bother me when everyone around us was celebrating me? It was a foreign but exhilarating feeling.

"I still can't believe you said that to Lacie; it was legendary," EJ shook his head. Taylor, resting her head on EJ's shoulder, sat across his lap. They were the kind of cute couple you only saw in movies—both athletic, both popular, and neither of them mean. I couldn't help but envy them a little.

I still didn't feel like I'd said anything that impactful to Lacie. Maybe I'd been a tad petty, but I hadn't cursed her or insulted her; I was just brutally honest. Jeremiah hadn't mentioned her. Actually, until tonight, I'd never even thought he had a girlfriend. He was just so good at making me feel like I was the only person who existed when we were together.

"Belly babes, I know I already said it, but you're like, for real, my new BFF," Taylor chimed in. "Seriously, I need a lot more feminine energy around when I'm hanging out with these dumbos."

It dawned on me that I was becoming the girl at the American high school who was best friends with all the football players. Invited to all their parties, sitting at their table—it all felt a little surreal. It was like my life was being plucked straight from a movie. So when Wade came around with another round of shots, I didn't hesitate; I happily took it. This time, the battery acid was more muted—still not great, but the floaty feeling that had started to infiltrate my body felt better.

"Has anyone seen Jeremiah?" The words tumbled from my lips before I could even think. I was pretty sure my cheeks were burning, but I couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the embarrassment that people now knew I had Jeremiah on my mind.

"I don't think he's come back down since going up with Lacie, babe," Taylor frowned, looking toward the stairs.

I had practically encouraged him to go upstairs with her, suggesting they find a more private spot to talk. I had no right to be jealous, but I couldn't help feeling a little green.

"Yo, Belly, have you ever played beer pong?" Ricky called out, though I was still unsure if that was his name. But thanks to the alcohol, I felt more confident, so until told otherwise, that's what I was going with.

"I haven't, but I think I could figure it out," I smiled, pushing off the kitchen counter. If Jeremiah got to have some fun, then so did I. Of course, my idea of fun was worlds different from what was probably happening behind those closed doors upstairs.

"I'm the beer pong champion; you couldn't have lucked out on a better teacher," he winked, holding his arm out for me. I gratefully latched onto it, my wobbly feet finding newfound support. As we navigated through the partygoers, all eyes were on me this time, not because I was with Jeremiah, but because I was with Ricky. People were actually looking at me this time. So I smiled and waved, the alcohol helping me uncover a newfound confidence I'd yet to explore.

He led me down to the finished basement, which was decked out with various games. EJ must've been loaded.

"Bowen, who's the new girl?" a guy asked, sitting with a few others and some girls around the beer pong table.

"Fishers' new exchange student, everyone meet Belly!" Ricky nudged me forward with a big grin on his face.

"In the flesh," I laughed, unsure of what else to say. But Ricky stepped in, slinging his arm around me proudly. What was it with these guys?

"She's gonna be my pong partner, and we're going to annihilate you, just like she did to Lacie Barone." That certainly got everyone's attention.

As Ricky set up the game and explained the rules, it seemed easy enough. I'd seen it done in movies and figured I wouldn't be great at it. Ricky tried to prepare me, but his words of encouragement flowed endlessly. They must've been magic because on my very first attempt, the ball sank into the first cup.

"Oh, she's damn good!" someone else yelled out as my third throw of the night landed in another cup. Ricky was ecstatic, claiming I was carrying our team. A crowd had formed around the table as everyone watched. I couldn't help wishing Jeremiah was here with me, though. Maybe it was the two cups of beer I'd had, but the feeling was undeniable.

We won, which wasn't a surprise to anyone. Ricky begged me to play another game, but I told him I'd come back; I had to pee—really, I felt like I might pee my pants. But it hadn't occurred to me as I climbed the stairs back to the first floor that I had no idea where I was going.

Eventually, I found a bathroom, thanks to some helpful girls who pointed me in the right direction. As I lingered at the stairway back to the basement, my gaze wandered to the stairs where Jeremiah had disappeared earlier.

Navigating the second set of stairs proved more challenging with my tipsy feet. I kept my hand gripping the railing, eyeing the top of the stairs. My last step proved treacherous, and I expected to hit the floor, embarrassing myself, but I never did.

"You don't have to hurt yourself to get my attention, Bells." A familiar voice sent chills down my spine, and butterflies danced in my stomach.

"I was looking for you," I stammered, staring up into his ocean-blue eyes. Suddenly, I forgot my resolution to be just friends with Jeremiah. How could I think that when he looked like this, when he looked at me like this?

"Funny because I was just coming to look for you," he quipped, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He helped me fully to my feet, our hands lingering on each other's for longer than necessary. The only thing that snapped me out of my Jeremiah-induced trance was the sound of heels clicking down the hallway, approaching us.

Jeremiah cursed under his breath, words I couldn't quite hear, and before I knew it, he was tugging us into a hall closet, shutting the door behind us.

"Jeremiah, what the—" I started to protest, but he gently clamped his hand over my mouth.

"I just ended things with Lacie, and I don't think the next two faces she needs to see are ours," he whispered.

The clicking of Lacie's heels grew closer and closer. All we could do was keep our eyes locked onto each other's. Had he really pulled us into a closet to avoid his ex-girlfriend?

It was then that I realized how close we were, his hand still covering my mouth, the other resting on the side of my waist. We stood there silently, waiting for the sound of her shoes to click down the wooden staircase. It wasn't until the clicking faded that Jeremiah finally spoke.

"Sorry, that was kind of dumb. I just... I literally just ended things, and she's got a bit of a jealousy thing. Sorry, I probably should have—" he began to ramble on, but I wasn't listening. I couldn't.

Not when we were pressed so closely together, not when I could smell the detergent mixing with his cologne. Not when his hand still covered my mouth.

"Jeremiah," I interrupted him, my own hand coming up to grab his. Instead of letting go, I held onto it, tugging him to get his attention.

"You don't need to apologize; it's fine. Are you okay?" It was genuinely fine, even funny that this had been his first instinct. I understood the sentiment.

"Yeah, I'm okay. It's been a long time coming," he sighed, and I found myself frowning slightly. I wondered what their relationship had been like. In my very biased opinion, Jeremiah deserved the best, and, although I hated to admit it, Lacie seemed far from it.

"Why now, then?"

He stared at me for a moment. "Just felt right, I guess."

I stared back, my gaze flitting between his lips and his eyes. "That's all?" I asked, glancing down at our fingers, which were now intertwined.

"Maybe," he offered, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

There was a moment of silence—or as much silence as the closet could offer us from the party raging outside. We stood there, quietly taking each other in, illuminated by the sliver of light seeping through the door's cracks. I could still make out his eyes and the way the curls framed his face like a work of art.

"Are you ever going to kiss me?" I said, finally breaking the silence.

His response was straightforward, just the way I wanted it, and not a word left his lips. Instead, his hand untangled from mine, finding a spot at the small of my back and pulling me flush against his chest. His lips were soft, and the fruity alcohol we'd been drinking earlier lingered on them.

I felt his free hand cup the side of my jaw, pushing us further against the coats hanging on the rack. I could feel some of the hangers crashing to the floor, but I couldn't bring myself to care. There were a couple of things I should probably care about right now. For starters, I shouldn't be kissing Jeremiah Fisher in this coat closet at a party.