After we settled down and put our stuff in our rooms, we decided to have some food at the beach. It was mid-December, and there was a bit of cold wind brushing my face, and I liked it. Believe it or not, Winter is my favorite season of the year. It's just very clear and pure and friendly. Edith Sitwell once said, “Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home." But he lived in England, not California, where snow never visits. Still, his words are just as true to me.
The water looked amazing, but the waves looked scary. They were only a little higher than normal, but they still looked dangerous. We sat in a circle on the blankets on the sand, with a heater in the center. We decided we didn't want to burn actual fire, since it's so cliché, and we're living in the 21st century. It's stupid, considering there is actually fire burning for the coal inside the heater.
We talk about random things, tell random stories, and argue about random shit. And then randomly, Kyle suggested we play Spin the Bottle.
"We can't play that," Denise opposed. "We're 8 guys and 5 girls."
"Well, then you get the double," Kyle smirked.
"What is math to you?" I mock him, and he starts counting on his fingers. What an idiot.
"I have a better idea," Charlotte says. "We play Who's the Boss?"
We all stare at her, clueless about whatever game she just suggested.
"Oh, my God! You don't know that game?" Veronica asks with a surprised tone.
Crickets chirping.
"Alright, so we'll write numbers on papers, but one of the papers will have the word 'Boss' on it," Char explains, getting out a notebook and a pen from her purse. "Each one of us will take a random paper, and whoever gets the one with 'Boss' written on it will be, well, the boss."
She finishes writing in her notebook and starts ripping the paper into small pieces. After that, she starts folding the papers to cover what's written on them, and then she distributes them amongst us. She tells us to unfold our papers and show her what we got. Amber got the 'Boss' one.
"Okay, so Amber is the boss, so she'll be in control."
"I like where this is going," Amber smiles, making me roll my eyes.
"She'll make commands using only numbers. She'll go like 'Number 2 must twerk' or 'Number 4 and Number 1 must hug for a minute.' Now, of course, no one knows your number, not even the boss. Got it?"
You know how when you're new to a certain game you mess up at it in the beginning, but then you really enjoy it when you get the hang of it. Well, we'd "gotten the hang of it" long before we knew what the game was about. We started strong, making bold commands to embarrass each other. For instance, Jordan made Kyle pull his pants down to put his ass for a show.
"Number 6 must slap Kyle's ass ten times," Tyler said, smiling mischievously.
Cody groaned, "What the fuck, man?"
"Come on, Cody, just slap my ass," Kyle said, bending down once again with his ass naked.
The sight was so unpleasant, I felt the need to apologize to Deinse and the twins. It was funny and quite casual, the game I mean, before it turned intense and dramatic.
"Number 4 and Number 7 must make out," Ryan said, and Cody started leaning towards Denise, who didn’t make a move. They kiss for about half a minute before Cody brings his hand around her neck, but Deinse keeps both her hands plastered to the floor. Everyone cheers and whistles, yelling "You're the man!"
After they were done, they look at each other, and Cody's hand stays around her neck. They don’t smile, nor smirk, which is something they always do after they flirt or kiss; instead, they look seriously into each other's eyes.
"That's what you're good at, right?" Denise whispers, and I think I was the only one to hear her, besides Cody, since I was sitting right next to her. He frowns and goes back to his place without saying a word.
"I'm the Boss," Denise exclaims. "Now, Cody, tell me why you're such a coward."
Well, that escalated quickly.
"I'm not," he shrugs.
"Yes, you are."
"I'm the Boss, now," he takes the paper from Denise.
"Hey, you can't do that!" Kyle argues, but no one pays him any attention.
"Denny—"
"Denise," she corrects him.
"Denny, tell me what is wrong with what we have now?"
"What exactly do we have, Cody?" She challenges him.
"A very good friendship," Cody made the mistake of his life. He's such an idiot.
"What kind of friendship is that?" Denise's voice gets higher before she takes a deep breath to maintain control. "You know what? Screw you," she says before walking away.
"You already did," Cody chuckles humorlessly.
I look at him in disbelief. "Asshole," I tell him before I follow her.
I hug her to comfort her although she was not crying. She was angry, and I can see that in the way she breathes heavily and lets the fume out her nose. I told her that I'm sorry about Cody and that she has to deal with a child like him. She obviously likes him, and he obviously does. Only he was too scared to come to terms with his feelings.
I told her to just ignore him and not let him ruin this weekend. They can deal with this later, but as for now, I want to spend a drama-free birthday, and I know we all do.
We went back to the beach house when it got dark, and the real celebration began. The house shook with music blasting from the speakers, and the dancing and drinking started. Denise danced carelessly with the guys, while Cody slouched on the couch with his beer in his hand. Ryan and I occupy the other couch, watching them as they enjoy their time. I notice the difference between Charlotte and Veronica. Besides being the single one, Veronica seemed more outgoing than her sister. She became friends with the guys very quickly, and she'd already gotten comfortable around them. Heck, she's dirty dancing with Jordan right now.
Ryan's finger gently lifts my chin up so I can face him. And he kisses me softly at first before I fix my position and sit on his lap. He tangles his fingers in my hair, and I wrap my arms around his neck. My feet dangle on either side of his legs, and I pull him closer.
"Let's go to bed," he whispers in between our kisses.
And then the uncertainty comes back, and it grows bigger.
"I'm kinda tired actually," I smile at him apologetically, causing him to frown. "It's been a long day."
"It's alright," he smiles, his hand crawling under my sweater. "We don't have to rush anything."
The place smelt of alcohol and smoke, and it was starting to get suffocating. I excused myself from Ryan to stand outside for a while for a breath of fresh air. The weather was starting to get colder and the wind stronger, so I hug myself tighter. Someone places a soft blanket around my shoulders and lets his hands linger on me for a few moments before coming to stand next to me.
"If this is your way of apologizing, it's not working," I tell Dylan, enveloping myself with the blanket for warmth.
"It isn't," he says. "I don't want you to forgive me. I want you to believe me."
Before I can argue with him, he gets out his phone and taps its screen a few times before putting it in my view. I keep my eyes on him, eying him suspiciously. I take the phone from his hand and look down at the screen.
My heart beats against my chest and then comes to a sudden halt at what I see before me. His face was buried in her neck while she smiled brightly as if he was telling her a secret; her right hand rested against his cheek. His right arm was wrapped around her waist possessively, and his fingers were intertwined with hers. He had a drink in his other hand.
I felt the alcohol rising back up my throat, and I grew sick with disgust. Tears were threatening to come pouring out, but I wouldn't let myself cry for him.
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