Anything to Have You

The scene played out like a soap opera on mute, and I knew the characters well enough to write in the dialogue myself. Brooke crossed her arms and said something to him, probably about how it wasn’t a big deal and she was just messing around. Aiden showed every physical sign of exasperation as he told her, I was sure, that it was not okay. She railed something back at him and pushed him on the shoulders despite the fact that he is a good six or seven inches taller than her, and he reared back his head, clearly angry. She looked challengingly up at him, but he looked away. She said one more thing, and Aiden raised his hands and then walked down the stairs. Even from his back, I could see that he was pissed.

Brooke’s confident posture melted a little as she put one hand on her hip and one over her mouth. I went over to her.

“You okay?”

“No! He’s being such an asshole.” Her last word was muffled by the coming of tears.

I hesitated. It never goes well when I tell her that Aiden is not actually wrong and that she is, in fact, being a bitch. Her embarrassment gives way to anger every time. I told myself to wait until tomorrow, when she would be sober and an iota more accepting of criticism.

The other girls from the kitchen, including Bethany, came over to comfort her. Ha, really, Bethany? As if she hadn’t been the one to rat Brooke out! I knew I never liked her.

We went into a nearby guest bedroom, where Brooke sat sniffling at the end of the bed, surrounded by supporters, and started complaining.

“Like, I get that I was kind of close to Justin, but it’s not like I was going to do anything! Aiden should know me well enough to know that. You know? I was just messing around!”

I didn’t even know how she was getting through this with a straight face. She and I both knew damn well that she was flirting with Justin so that he would want her. Which is the only reason anyone flirts, so...was she really claiming that she was just kidding?

“It’s so rude,” said one of the girls. “Like, you’re your own person, you don’t have to do what he wants you to do. You know what I mean? He’s being so bossy.”

“Exactly,” chimed in another. “He is seriously domineering.”

I almost laughed. That was such an inaccurate descriptor for Aiden.

The first girl continued. “It might even be emotionally abusive.”

Oh, for God’s sake.

“Maybe,” said Brooke. “I mean, like, I get it, but he’s so jealous all the time.”

No wonder she messed up almost nightly. She had a chorus of dumb girls telling her she was in the right.

I was witness to this pity party, hosted by and for Brooke, for another half an hour. She complained, bitching about Aiden, defending Aiden, pretending to be overly sorry for her actions, then suddenly playing the victim again. The girls handled the emotional waves like pro surfers, supporting her sycophantically with every ebb and flow.

She shook her head violently and then obviously regretted it. “Bethany, can you find me some headache stuff? I have to go out there, anyway—I just remembered I’m on the beer pong list.”

Bethany scurried off, and the team of ladies-in-waiting dispersed, each giving Brooke a hug as if she had been through a train wreck and made it out alive or something.

Brooke reported for duty at the beer pong table. She became very busy with everyone else at the party then, and I knew she was trying to save face and look like she didn’t care about the drama that had just happened. I had nothing to contribute to that cause, so I went downstairs to look for my phone. I found it on a bookshelf where I had been talking to people earlier. I texted my dad to tell him everything was fine and that we were staying there for the night. He answered after only a few seconds, telling me to have fun and be careful.

“Nattie, come here, girl.”

I clicked off the screen and looked up to see Aiden beckoning me over to him.

He was sitting with a bunch of people, including Eric. It was a much different scene than the weepy girl-fest that had occurred upstairs. Everyone down here was in perfectly high spirits.

Aiden, like most of the guys, now had his shirt off. Why Brooke felt the need to get attention from anyone in the world besides Aiden, I could not imagine. How does a relationship get stale when you’re dating that?

As I walked over to him, he smiled and pulled me onto his lap.

I fell with a small squeal, and then pushed off and slid into the space on the couch next to him.

He put his arm around me. It felt friendly, but his bare skin on what was exposed of mine made me prickle. He was warm, and it felt strange—and yet also very natural—that I should be this close to him, encompassed by his body. “This girl...she is the fucking best, dude, seriously.”

I tried to pretend this was how he normally acted with me.

“She’s hot, too,” said a guy I had seen around but didn’t know. He must be new to the group.

“Dude, right?” Aiden winked at me. “But she never comes out at all, so no one gets to know her. See, most of these other people—” he gestured around us “—got to hang out with you back when you were a little social butterfly. But ever since I moved here, you haven’t been.”

The timing of that was slightly suspect. I wondered if he noticed that.

“Try not to take it too personally, Aiden. I only kind of hate hanging out with you.”

“Hoh! Nattie’s got jokes, huh?” He bent his head toward my ear, and I tried not to shiver. What was happening? “We’re about to play a game, you want in?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“What’s the game?”

“Fuck the dealer?”

“Who’s the dealer?”

“This time it’s me.”

We locked eyes for a second “Oh—okay.”

“Yep, you got lucky.”

We looked away from each other, and he went on to explain the rules of the card game to me, patiently repeating anything I forgot or didn’t understand.

We played for a good hour, and when the game started to die out—it’s one of those games that can go on forever, due to multiple rounds—he and I were the only ones left sitting. Despite the fact that the third cushion was now open, we were still right next to each other.

The alcohol was starting to make me feel like I had one eye covered or something. I was only soaking in half of what was going on, and not getting the depth of any of it.

“Are you glad you came?” asked Aiden.

I nodded and took a sip of the rum and Coke he had made me, and which I had not admitted to not wanting. “I am. I didn’t know...or, I didn’t think it would be fun.”

He put a hand over his heart. “Damn. What a cruel thing to say.”

“Not you!” I giggled—oh, God, had I? Had I just giggled? “Just, like...I don’t know, I didn’t think it would be. I don’t know!”

“Well, now you know, right?”

“I do. I think...I think I’m also a little drunk.”

“You think so, huh?”