The Other Guys

Chapter 3

As I walk around the house, bumping into people and looking for Lola’s trademark fiery red hair, but finding no sight of her, I realize I really have no other means of getting home, aside from her. I never meant to go home; I was going to crash here after the party winded down, but now that doesn’t seem like such a good idea.

I try calling Lola, but her phone’s disconnected. Instead of finding her, I see Dale surrounded by a bunch of fellow junkies, sharing a joint and horsing around. Annoyed at him for bailing on CeCe again when I specifically asked him to stick by her side, I march over to him and tap him on the shoulder until I have his full attention.

“Where’s CeCe?” I ask impatiently, tapping my foot and folding my arms across my chest. For a second, Dale’s eyes drift down to my chest before they snap back up to my face, but it’s no use – I noticed and I’m even more annoyed at him for looking. He must have a nice view from up there, too. The perk of being a freaking giant.

“Upstairs. Sleeping,” he drawls out and his eyes are so redshot, I start to think it might be a mighty good idea if he follows suit and goes to bed, too.

“And why aren’t you with her, you idiot?” I snap, demanding to know, barely restraining myself from slapping him on the back of his head, but Dale’s a big guy and he might let me get away with the name-calling when he’s high, but inflicting bodily harm on him? In Lola’s words, that shit won’t fly.

But still, this is not and definitely won’t be the last time I’ll wonder what CeCe ever saw in him.

His dyed, matted blond hair or dull brown eyes have no appeal to me. Besides, he’s not the brightest crayon in the box either, wasting his life away smoking pot and selling drugs to kids that don’t know better. The only thing, really, that Dale has going on for him is his height, but that can’t make up for the fact he’s a sucky boyfriend.

“I’m not her babysitter, Sydney,” he says irritably, speaking to me like I’m the retard, not him, “I’m not gonna hold her hand while she sleeps. That’s dumb as fuck.”

Cue face-palm. I bite my tongue and don’t tell Dale that the only dumb thing right now is him.

Annoyed, I grit my teeth until my gums almost start bleeding and ask him in the calmest voice I can muster, “Which room is she in?”

“How the heck should I know?” Is Dale’s intelligent response and instead of wasting my breath on him, I stalk off, cursing his imbecility under my breath and wishing CeCe would dump his ass for good.

Not watching my step because of how angry Dale’s made me, I run smack into something hard. When I glance up in a daze, I realize this something is actually a someone. Although one can easily mistake him for a goddamn brick wall.

“Whoa, easy there, Syd,” Noah laughs, steadying me on my feet as he grabs me by the shoulders before I tumble down the stairs and bruise my butt. There’s the brunette I saw him disappear up the stairs with standing right by his side and shooting me calculating glances. Taking in his rumpled hair and her swollen lips, I add two and two and realize Noah’s just had sex.

God, he sure doesn’t waste time.

“Syd, you hear me?” Noah asks, his voice tinged with worry as he waves his hand in front of my face. As if it’s possible that his rock hard chest just gave me a concussion.

“Yeah, yeah,” I wave him off before I grab his hand and start tugging him up the stairs, “you,” I point at him, “need to come with me.”

Noah reluctantly follows me – more like allows me to drag his body around as he hastily apologizes to the brunette for leaving in a rush, but I figure a part of him is relieved I saved him another awkward conversation he can live without.