âNo, not really.â I shrug. âTell me about this wine.â I grasp for a neutral, nondepressing subject.
âThis guy? Okay, well, itâs, um, old and aged to perfection?â He laughs and I join him. âIâm good at drinking it, though, not so much studying it.â
âOkay, not the wine, then,â I say. Tipping my cup back, I finish the rest as quickly as possible.
âUm,â he says, looking behind me. My stomach drops at his nervous expression, and I hope Hardin isnât back to spit more venom at me. When I turn around, Lillian is standing in the doorway, seemingly unsure whether to come out or not.
âWhat do you want?â I ask her. Iâm trying to control my jealousy, but the wine coursing through me doesnât work in favor of manners. Robert grabs my empty cup just as the wind knocks it over, and begins to refill it. I get the feeling heâs trying to keep himself busy to avoid whatever dramatic or awkward situation lies ahead.
âCan I talk to you?â Lillian asks.
âWhat is there for us to talk about? Everything is pretty clear to me.â I take a big gulp from my cup, letting the cold wine fill my mouth.
Unexpectedly, she doesnât respond to my attitude. She just walks over to us and says flatly, âIâm gay.â
What? If Robertâs clear blue eyes hadnât been focused on me, Iâd have spit the wine back into my cup. I look from him to her and swallow slowly.
âItâs true. I have a girlfriend. Hardin and I are only friends.â She frowns. âIf you would even call us that.â
I know that look. He must have just told her off.
âThen why . . .â I start. Is she being honest? âBut you guys were all over each other.â
âNo, he was being a little . . . touchy-feely, I guess youâd say, like when he put his arm around my chair. But he was only doing it to make you jealous.â
âWhy would he do that? On purpose?â I ask. But I know the answer: to hurt me, of course.
âI told him to tell you. Iâm sorry if you thought something was going on between us. Itâs not. Iâm in a relationship, with a girl.â
I roll my eyes and hold my cup out to Robert for more wine. âYou seemed pretty comfortable going along with it,â I remark harshly.
With honest, pleading eyes, she says, âThat wasnât my intention. I wasnât really paying attention to what he was doing. Iâm really sorry if you were hurt in all this.â
Iâm fumbling for reasons to tell this girl off, but I canât come up with any. Lillian being gay is a huge relief to me, and I wish that Iâd known sooner, but it really doesnât change much with Hardin. If anything, it makes his behavior worse, because he was purposely trying to make me jealous and then upped the ante by saying the most hateful things he could think of to me. Watching him flirt with her didnât hurt nearly as bad as hearing him tell me that he didnât love me.
Robert fills my glass, and I take a small sip while watching Lillian. âSo what changed your mind and made you tell me? He went off on you, didnât he?â
She half smiles, then sits down at the table with us. âYeah, he did.â
âHeâs good at that,â I say and she nods. I can tell sheâs slightly nervous, and I keep reminding myself that she isnât the problem here, Hardin is.
âDo you have any more cups?â I ask Robert, and he nods, giving me a proud smile. My stomach flutters lightly; from the wine, Iâm sure.
âNot in my pocket, but I can grab another from inside,â he offers politely. âWe should go inside, anyway; your lips are turning blue.â
I look up at him, and my gaze goes to his lips. Theyâre full and pink; they look so soft. Why am I staring at his lips? This is what wine does to me. I want to be staring at Hardinâs lips, but he only uses them to yell at me lately, it seems.
âIs he inside?â I ask Lillian, and she shakes her head. âOkay, letâs go in, then. I have to save Landon from that table, anyway, especially from that Max guy,â I say without thinking, then quickly look at Lillian. âShit, sorry,â
She surprises me by laughing. âItâs fine, trust me. I know my dadâs an asshole.â
I donât respond. She may not be a threat to my relationship with Hardin, but that doesnât mean that I like her, even if she does seem kind of sweet.
âAre we going inside or . . .â Robert rocks on the heels of his black dress shoes.
âYeah.â I gulp down the rest of my wine and head inside. âIâll get Landon. Are you sure you can drink here? In your uniform?â I ask my new friend. I donât want him to get in trouble. My head is fuzzy, and the thought of him getting arrested by his father makes me giggle.
âWhat?â he asks, his eyes searching my face.
âNothing,â I lie.
Heading inside, Lillian and I walk over to our partyâs table. I put my hands on the back of Landonâs chair, and he turns to look up at me.
âYou okay?â he asks quietly while Lillian speaks to her parents.
I shrug. âYeah, sort of.â I wouldnât be if I wasnât borderline drunk from downing several cups of wine. âDo you want to hang out with us? Weâre going to hang out here and have some wine . . . some more wine.â I smile.
âWho? Her, too?â Landon glances across the table at Lillian.
âYeah, sheâs . . . well, sheâs okay.â I donât want to blurt out the girlâs personal business in front of everyone.
âI told Ken that Iâd watch the game with them at Maxâs cabin, but if you want me to stay here, I will.â