Sadie (18+)

Chapter 7

a/n: just wanted to remind everyone that this is a slow burn kind of story :)

I should have known I wasn't going to have fun tonight. I just didn't enjoy watching Julia and Justin suck each other's faces off.

It wasn't Julia's fault. She always planned to stay with me when Justin tagged along, but they were still in the early stages of their relationship, and much too soon before the excitement and butterflies wear off.

I couldn't blame her—I remember what that's like, that all-consuming puppy love. I've only felt it briefly, fleetingly, but it was magical nonetheless.

I knew I was getting crankier by the minute. Bodies kept shoving past me, the music was too loud, and I couldn't stop thinking about Julia's damned father. I ducked as a ping pong ball flew past me, and at that point I was ready to scream and throw a fit.

I maneuvered through the sweaty bodies and locked myself into a stall in the bathroom. The chatter emanating from the sinks sounded far away—I heard laughter and smelt perfume, but was far too drunk to make any actual words out.

I squinted at my phone and swiped through my texts, the names of some of the men I interacted with blurring together into a jumbled mess.

Ever since this attraction to Vincent started, the urge to abandon them grew. I had gradually stopped sending pictures, stopped the payments, and even blocked some numbers. They wouldn't do it for me anymore—I knew that. Why did they ever?

After comparing them to him, I couldn't see the appeal anymore. Sure, the confidence boost was nice, but that's all it ever was. At least, that's how I see it now through a new lens, a better understanding of what I wanted in my life, that being a completely forbidden man.

I hated myself for being attracted to Vincent. It was repulsive. I couldn't even fathom what Julia would think of me if she knew I was practically drooling over him. I pressed my back against the stall, heaving out a sigh.

After I finished mulling over my unfortunate circumstance, I spent the next hour mostly third-wheeling. I shoved Justin into a wall more than once so I could dance with Julia, but I still didn't have her attention like I'd wanted. It wasn't her fault, but it stung a little.

When the bar closed, I waddled around on the sidewalk next to her as we waited for Vincent, complaining of tired legs and aching feet. We giggled and bumped into each other a few times, but it was mindless, drunken behavior. I could hardly see straight.

When he arrived, we shuffled quietly into the car. Julia elbowed me when we settled in. "Justin is coming by later."

"Why?" I whispered, anger tingeing my voice. She put her finger up to her lips and I crossed my arms in defeat, pouting, the thought of Justin momentarily sobering me up.

Her dark eyebrows pulled together, the mascara around her doe eyes smeared. "It's just this one time, I swear."

I rolled my eyes, resisting the urge to curse. "It's fine."

She leaned her head against my shoulder, her breath on my neck. "Love you."

It wasn't fine, but I couldn't stay mad nor did I have the right to. I knew I was being selfish and possessive. My emotions seemed disastrously heightened tonight, though I had the alcohol to blame for that.

Who was I to get in the way of her relationship, anyway? It was entirely unfair to judge Julia for her choices.

I twisted a lock of her hair around my finger and watched the streetlights fly past us, the moon following us, and knew I was losing her nonetheless.

When we returned home, Vincent helped Julia up the stairs. I trailed into the living room, then collapsed on the couch, exhausted and emotional. I gazed up at the high ceiling and watched the fan spin, the steady thump of my heart loud in my ear.

Before I could doze off, I realized the fan wasn't spinning and it was, in fact, my drunken vision that was. I looked down at my sweaty palms, my mouth suddenly producing more saliva. I recognized this unpleasant sensation and darted to the bathroom, then folded over the toilet bowl.

"Oh Sadie," I heard from the doorway, though my weakened state would not allow me to lift my head in response. Another cramp twisted my insides; I grabbed on to the edge of the bowl as vomit expelled from my mouth.

I only registered Vincent's presence when he hovered over me, then gathered my hair into his hands. If I hadn't felt so horrible, I would have enjoyed his touch more.

"You're not going to the bar anymore," he mumbled, using one hand to push the sweaty brown locks from my face. "Neither is Julia. This is ridiculous."

I winced in response to his words, guilt tugging at my heart, then ruefully gazed up at him. "I'm so sorry."

He ignored my apology, instead sliding down to the ground but continuing to keep my hair away from my face. "You're as white as a ghost."

I knew I was done puking when the cramps finally subsided. I lifted my head, Vincent releasing my bunched up hair. I turned around and faced him, suddenly aware of how close we were.

"Thanks," I mumbled awkwardly, pressing a weak hand to my cheek, my eyes darting to the floor. "I need to lie down. I'm just gonna go upstairs and go to bed."

I began to lift my knees from the cool tiled floor, but Vincent gently pushed me back in place. "You can't get up yet," he responded. "You might be dizzy."

"I'm fine," I said, grabbing ahold of the toilet to raise myself up. He pushed me back down again, this time with force.

"Stop being stubborn," he said, rising to his height to retrieve a rag from the cabinet. "Stay here."

I studied his face as he held the cloth under the running faucet. After a moment, he crouched back down next to me. "May I?"

I nodded, allowing him to press the rag to my forehead, my eyelids instinctively closing. I leaned into his touch, savoring this unintentional yet intimate moment.

"I'm a mess," I whispered, then accidentally inhaled a whiff of the concoction my body produced. "My vomit smells disgusting."

He chuckled, reaching over me to flush the toilet, then leaned back against the glass door of the shower, motioning for me to come to him. "Get away from the stinky toilet."

I awkwardly clambered over to his body like a toddler learning to crawl. "I'll clean it tomorrow."

"Damn right you will," he said, a disapproving frown etched onto his features. "No more of this."

My body melted into his side after a beat, and he tightened an arm around me. I curled up into a ball against his torso, feeling small and shameful, wishing the floor would swallow me.

"I'm all alone," I whimpered, a salty tear sliding down my cheek. I sobbed and trembled into his shirt while he tenderly stroked my hair for I couldn't say how long.