21 | 𝑊𝑒'𝑟𝑒 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝐽𝑒𝑤𝑖𝑠ℎ

It felt as though the music grew louder and my common sense dwindled in time with it. I'd never felt so lost in a mixture of chaos that when Keiona jerked my hand forward, I swore it was Kayla, feeling a strange sense of Deja Vu from the first party I ended up at when I met Victor.

She sashayed me to the awning of Sullivan's house and then walked alongside me. She wore a dark purple body con and as for me, stuck to the simplistic black jeans and pink crop top.

"Come on, this will be great. We'll have a couple of drinks-- Jaydon Bach!" she interrupted, releasing her grip on me and hurrying to the far side of the hallway. She embraced him in a tight hug.

"You two know each other?" I dumbly wondered, trading weird looks between them.

Jaydon laughed, shaking his head fluently with his thoughts before saying, "POSC, an organization protecting stray cats."

She turned to me with a gleaming smile and said, "I love cats. What about you?"

I shrugged lightheartedly and declared, "more of a dog person."

I was afraid to admit to Keiona that I scavenged for a dog as a result of a lie to Sullivan. In all honesty, that conversation would most definitely end with her killing me from stupidity. Strangely, Keiona was dramatic all the time, yet failed to overreact.

"Come on, let's get some drinks. I love this house."

Keiona, Jay, and I maneuvered through the house towards the bar end of the kitchen where we leaned atop the ledge and downed two shots. The burn tickled my throat for a second, but it didn't last any longer than that.

I downed a slightly mixed drink--I know, never a good idea, but I did it anyway, and did not regret it---while preparing to regret it in the coming morning. Kayla and I would usually part ways, but being that I wasn't fully aware of where Kayla was, left with confusion. I started for the crowd, an almost empty cup in hand.

"Where are you going?" Keiona hollered. Her voice stood out amongst the reverberating bass and contagious haziness within the groups to follow me.

"I--uhh..." My voice trailed, but my mind focused on one particular person, Victor Vislocky, and the only thing I wanted to do was talk to him after our rather displeasing texts the day before. I didn't know how I felt about the whole, fleeing Wyoming to Montana with someone I only know minimally. He seemed more okay about the situation than I ever did. Nevertheless, my hormones were as chaotic as the frenzying party and I was in need of a new tampon.

Luckily my purse carried one extra and a chapstick with a few dollars, but that was all I had, no common sense or good lies found.

"I need to... have sex with some guy. Super horny--gotta go!" I quickly dashed away, even before Jay could question my sanity.

I dipped into an empty bedroom and sealed the door closed right after me to fix myself up and breathe; or so I thought I could get a break from it all. The room was not empty. "Riyah!" a girl screamed.

I pivoted to the bed and my eyes grew wider than imaginable. I could quite literally feel my heart pause, throbbing and aching in my chest as if it had felt out of place. The burning sensation in my eyes scorched down my skull, the pulsating feeling of a migraine taking place, and being on my period, did not help the fact of how devastated I was. "Kayla?"

The scene was there, all in its horrifying glory. I had nothing in me but the everlasting stare. She was straddling a shirtless, Sullivan Corbett.

Kayla leapt off, wearing nothing but her skirt and bra. "Riyah, I can explain--" she began, but I was already turning out of the room. I saw too much.

I darted to the balcony when she grabbed my hand, spinning me around. "Riyah!" she begged, having tears in her eyes. "Please, let me explain at least."

I wheel myself around and my voice cracks as I speak, "there is nothing to say." The image of her distorts and I feel the pressure of chest begin to relieve as tears touch my lips. "No words can change what I saw with my own eyes, I don't need you to make some foolish story out of the truth---you are a bitch," I spit out.

I felt many things and nothing at all. The stranger transpired before me and I quickly snagged my wrist from her grasp. My body overheated in the clothes and my skin itched for air. The stuffy room clogged the pores in my skin and made me yearn for some coldness, or the warmth of Victor, I couldn't tell.

She yelled out, "where are you going?"

"To get fucked by Vicky!" I stormed through the crowd, shoving and sliding between gaps. I ducked under flying arms and avoided spilling drinks before surpassing the family portraits lining the hallway and walking out onto the balcony. I found him leaned up against the siding of the house holding a blunt in between his fingers. He stared at me with perplexity as I demanded, "We need to leave."

He shifted his body off the wall, shaking the joint. "Are we now?" he sarcastically quizzed.

"We're leaving." I yanked at his hand, but when I thought he'd refuse and persistently stay mounted to the balcony, I'd realized I was wrong. He let me drag him through the hallway and passed a petrified Kayla who attempted getting my attention, but while in the hazy atmosphere of everything coming back to haunt me, I impulsively threw myself at Victor and pressed my lips against his.

He tried to make it a kiss, but all I did was just peck him. He didn't seem too pleased knowing that I spitefully did it in front of Kayla, but that didn't matter to me. What mattered was getting to Victor's metallic jeep.

When I stood outside of the passenger side with my arms crossed and the distant party music surrounding me, he raised a brow. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you to open the door."

"So, what? You can only use me to your benefit?" His expression morphed sourly, eyebrows scrunched to a thin line across his forehead.

My shoulders dropped, tipping my head to the concrete. He was right. I'd gotten so carried away and even though he used girls for sex, I guess that didn't apply to me using him as a chauffeur. "You're right," I said, "I could ask Keiona--"

The car beeped and the headlights flickered. "Get the fuck in," was all he replied with as he slid up into the driver's side, waiting for me to maneuver get around to the passengers. Once we were seated and warm air blew into the car, he said, "Y'know I was only kidding, right? Like I used you to get Sullivan jealous multiple times before," he noted, chuckling to himself.

"Yeah... ha."

He shot over a look and leaned towards me. Minuscule tears fell over my waterline and collected bits of foundation on my cheeks. I stated confidently, "we're going to Montana." I paused and met his skeptical eyes. "Now."

"No," he responded in a lecturing tone like a parent would. "We're not going tonight. I said, tomorrow and you're drunk." He started the car and the engine grumbled beneath us. "I'm taking you back to your house--"

"I told my mom I was staying the weekend at Jay's," I retaliated. "Listen, I suggest, we just drive to Montana now--"

"And I said no."

"Why?" I whined.

"Because, Princess, I said no." He steered the wheel, rolling the car forwards with little interest towards me. I stubbornly fumbled with the radio.

"Stop calling me princess," I refuted, glancing at the darkened road with minimal house lights glowing the way. The streets were nearly abandoned and an envelopment of night encouraged me to ask more questions. "Where are we going?" I asked after a moment. "I can't go home."

He sighed irritably. "Take a nap."

"I'm not tired." I lowered my voice, adding, "besides, every time I close my eyes I see my best friend and my crush." The pieces had formulated in my head and I snapped at him. "Y'know," I began angrily. "Everything was fine up until you tried helping me!"

"Hm-mm."

"It's true!" I continued, "ever since I started talking to you, the only improvement I've made so far is that he stopped calling me Mia and that's about it!"

"Hm-mm."

"Stop doing that!" I yelled.

"Doing what?"

"This!" I waved my hand to his presence. "Acting all... you know--like... the way you are now."

"Well, that's informative," he noted casually.

I balled my fists with no intention of using them for anything but making drunken, wild gestures as placeholders for words I didn't know. "Where are we going?" I exasperated. I shot him a cold glare, but he only leaned forward, turning up the volume on the radio. "Bon Jovi's playing. Your favorite."

Was it cliche for me to feel kinda warm inside that he remembered? Yeah, most definitely cliche.

"I love this song," I murmured, just as his right hand wormed off the wheel and stamped onto my thigh gently. I looked down, studying the way his thumb continuously ran over the inner part of my thigh, but without another thought, I picked up his hand and removed it. He let me, but tensed the second that I contorted my body over the middle consul and rested my head on his shoulder while "Till We Ain't Strangers Anymore" played.

I sleepily fiddled with his fingers within my own. "This okay?" I wondered, tilting my head up so my eyes could impatiently look at him.

He stifled a laugh, relaxing his body and melting into the seat. "Yes, Rhy. This is fine."

Again, with an underlying solemness in my words, I implored, "where are we going?"

"To Montana."

♡♡♡

My eyes fluttered open as I uncomfortably stirred awake. I felt every muscle in my legs pulse as I raised my body off the middle consul. "Where are we?"

"Montana," he said again in a raspier, more downcasted tone.

"If I could drive, I would let you take a break," I assured, but he only flashed me a quick smile in return. "It's the thought."

"How'd you sleep?" he wondered curiously, motioning to my state.

"I didn't dream of Sullivan and Kayla, that's for sure."

"Good." He veered the car into a gas station parking lot and situated the car by a pump. I looked at the time that read '3:30 AM' and blinked a few times to make sure that was the correct time, and it was.

"We left Corbett's around twelve," he explained meekly, turning off the car, the radio going silent. "We're like forty minutes from the hotel."

"You had this all planned?"

"Well, we get the room tomorrow, that's why I didn't want to leave last night," he admitted, beckoning a hand to the pitch blackness hauled above the fluorescent lights. The mist surrounded us like a halo, but despite that, his voice filled my ears as he popped open the driver's side. "That and the fact I only have what's in the car, you didn't pack."

"Yeah... that might be rough." My words were interrupted by a yawn that I muffled with my hand before I pointed to the gas station. "Can I have seven dollars?"

He stared at me, fixing the gas pump before approaching the open door as a wave of bone-numbing air flushed through the once heated jeep. "What do you want that's seven dollars?"

I shamefully glanced down, squirming in my seat and looking out into the distance of the window. He might be weirded out if I tell him, but I needed seven dollars. "Please?"

"Rhy," he warned.

"I have a few dollars on me. It costs thirteen--"

"What does?" he stated again. I lowered my head embarrassingly and he leaned closer in the driver's side of the car. "Azariah."

"I need tampons," I admitted shamefully. "I'm on my... period."

"Okay?" he asked, as if there was more. "Do you feel comfortable going in by yourself or if you wait two seconds I'll go in with you?" he suggested, knowing that I'd need to go to the bathroom.

"Could you?"

He rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself as he supported his body against the pump. I knew well enough that there were blood stains on my jeans. "Do you have sweatpants?"

He laughed again.

"What?" I asked with a smile, knowing well-enough.

I was fully content with the knowledge that he was making fun of me. I assumed he'd be disgusted or want me to stop talking and shove the money in my face or scold me for not having enough money. To my surprise, he looked somewhat genuine.

"You know I'm not grossed out, right?" he chided, returning to the back seat of his jeep and shuffling around for some clothes. "More so finding you adorable."

"How?" I crossed my arms. "I'm not adorable."

"Sure you aren't." He tossed the sweatpants onto my lap. "I'm almost done. We can check into the hotel at around twelve this afternoon."

"Vicky." My voice was meek as I looked down at the sweatpants.

"Yes?"

"You're not gonna be... grossed out, right?"

He quirked a brow. "No..." The pause and linger of uncertainty made my heart race. He was expectantly looking at me and hadn't removed his gaze from standing outside of the car. I waited until I got enough courage.

"I'm gonna need your underwear."

"What next? My life?" he inquired with a chortle. He shook his head wordlessly. "Come on, get out," he joked, beckoning his hand for me to follow. I slipped out of the car, the door slamming shut behind me as I walked alongside him. I was still wearing my revealing and tight-fitted clothing from the party.

"Don't worry," he assured, holding open the glass doors to the gas station for me. He lifted the article of clothing in his hand. "I have a sweatshirt."

"Sometimes I think you actually care about me."

"What a revelation," he sarcastically quipped, the door fell to a close behind us. The second I walked in, I saw a man ambling through the aisles and I crept closer to Vicky when I made eye contact with him. He could be a friendly man, but I just wanted to be near Victor while we turned down the same aisle as the stranger.

"Vicky?" I whispered up to him.

He squinted, whispering back extremely confused, "yes?"

"Can you come to the bathroom with me?" I questioned while picking out a box of tampons.

He groaned in protest and when I expected the 'no' to leave his lips, I was very much wrong. "You still owe me from the party. We never did actually fuck."

I told him half-asleep everything that happened up until the point I shouted that I was planning on having sex with him. I blame that on my subduing drunk-ness.

I grabbed a fistful of his sweatshirt and tugged him towards the bathroom, locking the door after us in the secluded space. He mumbled under his breath again within my hearing, "will I ever actually get to fuck you?"

"No."

"I doubt that."

"Yeah, about this conversation," I started, beginning to slip off my crop top while Victor soundlessly stared, blatantly checking me out, though I didn't care all that much. To be honest, I liked the feeling of his eyes on me. This was the first time a guy had ever seen me partially unclothed despite Jay.

But that was Jay and we practically shared a blood-related sibling bond.

He tentatively swept his lip under his teeth, his breathing wavering slowly while I walked over to him and took the sweatshirt out of his grasp. "I was in the girl's locker room," I started, "and girls talk, y'know?"

In a wistful tone, his eyes unremitting, he asked, "do they now?"

"Yeah, and... you have slept with at least twelve of them."

He tensed, snapping out of his thought with the additive of me covering my body in the shield of baggy clothing. "What?"

"Exactly." I made a popping noise with my mouth and asked, "you do realize that everybody was asking me if we slept together and I was thinking... I need you to turn around," I mentioned, gesturing to my jean area knowing there might be blood. He sighed, but pivoted to the corner, gasping at the crowd of spider webs and dust.

I stilled my body, gazing around at the insect crawling bathroom when I approached the mirror above the sink. This caught Victor's attention as he glanced over his shoulder to watch me place my fingertip to the glass.

"What are you doing?" he inquired.

"Making sure this is one-way glass."

"We could always smash it just to make sure?" he suggested, the cheeky grin appearing in the reflection. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head when my fingertip was reflected and returned to standing behind Victor's back. I stripped, changing my tampon, and lastly put on Victor's undergarment and sweatpants. I walked to the mirror after sliding on my heels to wash my hands, but was staring at the mirror all the while, and officially hating the way I looked and felt.

It was all of Victor's clothes then my fancy heels which added two inches. "I want a hug."

"I'll buy you chocolate instead."

"Hug," I deadpanned, opening my arms with a thin line where my lips should be. "I've had a rough day."

"It's nearly four in the morning, the day is just starting," he optimistically explained, picking up the box of tampons that I'd left on the floor. I rolled my head around and crossed my arms.

"You know what I mean."

He placed the box down on the rim of the sink and folded his arms around me, gently lifting me up on the tips of my shoes as he warmly drew me in closer to his muscular build. I had fallen into every groove that his arms provided, sinking my forehead into the collar of his hoodie.

"What do I do about Kayla and Sullivan?" I weakly questioned him, but my voice remained muffled in the fabric.

"You could deal with him when you get back to Wyoming?" he suggested, toying with the draw-string of his hoodie on me.

"I could."

"Or I could beat the living shit outta him and convince Kayla to stop being a bitch?" he offered, parting away from me with an adorably persuasive grin.

"That too," I giggled. "Can we get back on the road now?" I handed him my wallet and zipped up my purse, watching him as he studied the pink and purple pattern.

"What do you want me to do with this?"

"Pay."

"You said you only had a couple dollars in here," he reminded.

"Yeah..." I began in a questioning tone, "but you could use it?"

He lunged the wallet into my chest, having no other choice than to stumble back and take it. "Come on, we're getting snacks and leaving."

I nodded quickly, following him out of the bathroom and nearing the aisle he walked through. He grabbed an iced coffee, gesturing if I wanted one, and I nodded gratefully. After I became the carrier for all his belongings, he paid, and we eventually headed to the car.

When he started driving under the navy blue skylight and pitch black road, I inquired, "Can you believe Christmas is two weeks away?"

He blankly said, "I'm Jewish."

"Really? Would've never guessed. That's pretty cool," I chuckled, squirming closer into the passenger seat. "What else about you? I mean," I confirmed, "we are going to Montana for your family."

He stifled a laugh again, driving mindlessly through the thick cloud of fog while nursing his iced coffee. "Born in the Bronxs, lived with my mom and brother, never knew my father, but he was Italian."

"You're Italian?" I questioned excitedly. "That's hot--well, I mean, no." I stopped myself. "No, it's definitely hot." I watched him release airy laughs before I continued. "How'd you get to Wyoming?"

He shrugged, driving with one hand. "I hopped around a lot from house to house and when I was like fourteen or so, I got adopted, their youngest and only is Cambria," he explained.

"Where is...?" I wondered, hoping to not overstep.

"Cambria's mom? Paula's in the Navy. Constantly back and forth, but she's coming to Wyoming soon and staying for a while. Cambria's excited. I definitely like her more than the man who shall not be named," he noted with laughter.

"That's the guy I met?" I asked for validation, seeing him nod. "But they're not Jewish?"

"Really stuck up on me being Jewish--"

"No, I--" I was laughing now, nudging him with my knuckles and returning to stare out onto the shadowy highway mindlessly. "I just want to know you!"

"And now, you know enough. Tell me about you, Rhy," he stated, glancing over at me as soon as a car whizzed by our eyes absently. The rumbling of the radio distracted me from talking, but inevitably I did.

"My dad," I started, "he was a surgeon. Cardiovascular surgeon and one day when I was like eight going on nine, one of the surgeries went wrong and he lost a sixteen year old boy's life. He basically dipped on my mom and I. He disappeared off to God knows where," I grumbled under my breath, turning to face the window. "And we're not Jewish," I teased.

He chuckled, but shifted in his seat to face me more forwardly as he drove. "You get along with your mom?"

"Absolutely, she's strict and can be a little hard to deal with at times, but so am I."

"You got that right," he remarked.

x