Love, Aristotle

chapter 15

Aristotle

Momentarily, I felt fine. Every time I took a sip of my drink, things were okay. Partly because I mixed beer with cranberry juice. I enjoyed cranberry juice. While the alcohol flowed through my body and took me away. For now.

And I was somewhat enjoying this. I just got off the dance floor and found a seat on one of the couches in the corner of the crowded room. A couple made out on the couch next to me and I felt a surge of envy through my heart.

Damon should be here. Alas, he hasn't shown up. Not yet, I kept saying to myself.

"Hey," Someone said from beside me, making me perk up as I thought it was him. Instead, it was Andrew.

"Hi," I greeted back, smiling politely.

"Having a good time?"

I lifted the cup to my lips again, "Yes."

He chuckled, "Want to get out of here?"

In this moment, I thought of good ways to run away.

"No."

He looked slightly embarrassed yet unashamed. I knew he was the type. Persistent and determined. The average high school jock. I got up and joined Lainey who danced by herself, in the wave of drunk people and... sweat.

"Where's lover boy?" she called, placing her hands on my shoulders to steady herself.

"I don't know."

She pouted, "You could do so much better." then she wiggled her eyebrows, "I saw the new kid talking to you."

Groaning, I moved with her to the music, "Don't even get me started."

"He's attractive."

"Not really."

She scoffed, "Whatever. I'll take him then."

"Yes please."

We looked at each other and snickered, "As if. He's clearly into you."

I scrunched my face up in distress, "No he's not. He's new and is just trying to be friendly."

"But not to you."

"Damon won't like that."

"Damon is a jerk."

Here we were again. I ignored her, knowing I wouldn't ever change her mind. People talked and created an image of him, based on what they saw. But they didn't see him. He never let them.

On the outside, he acted like he didn't care about what they thought. Inside, it got to him. And I hated them for it. But he never said or did anything about it because they weren't worth it. Instead, he ignored them and said that he was fine.

"I have you. I don't give a shit what they think, baby."

His words weren't enough to make me feel any better but over time, I learned to tune them out. It didn't matter what they thought. They were so insignificant to our little universe. All I could hear was our song, the one our souls danced to.

"He's looking at you," she exclaimed.

I didn't bother to turn around. I had other things on my mind and I only wanted one thing. Damon and I. Alone together at his place. Our home. The first fear street movie would play on the screen as we'd be in each other's arms. Surrounded by nothing except the sense of forever and...candy wrappers. I'd rather be there than here.

Letting out a groan, I massaged my temple, "Can't he take a hint?"

"Maybe he just doesn't care."

"He should," I mumbled.