In Waves | ✔️

65 | homesick

If someone told me a few months ago that this is what my life would look like, I would've laughed so hard I might have collapsed right on the spot. Not before I gave them a swift reality check, though. But here I am, living this reality, and it still doesn't feel quite real.

Arriving at the gala, the air is abuzz with the excited chatter from the illustrious guests, all dressed in their finest evening wear. I'm talking red carpet caliber attire. A sea of glitz and glamor.

After walking through the foyer with the Bensons, the sound of soft jazz grows louder when we step off the elevator, beckoning us into a grand ballroom. The scale of the décor catches my breath. Bathed in gold from crystal chandeliers, the tables are draped in crisp white linens, intricate floral centerpieces, flickering candles, and fine china. The source of the jazz comes from a live band playing in the corner, couples twirling on the dance floor to their rhythm.

Clusters of mingling guests fill the rest of the hall while more people arrive, with servers weaving through with trays of champagne and gourmet appetizers. Mrs. Benson is already greeting a couple, warmly kissing their cheeks as Mr. Benson turns back to us.

"Don't stray too far," he says to Matt. "The reception should last for a while until the dinner, and I still want you to meet some people before then."

Matt can only get in a nod of understanding before Mr. Benson joins his wife.

"He wants you to meet people?" I ask.

"Business connections. Lawyers, investors. People I'd need to impress if I joined his firm one day." Matt sighs with a tight jaw. "But I don't wanna think about that right now."

He stops a red-headed waitress and scoops up two flutes of champagne. The waitress doesn't bat an eye, giving us a smile before she moves on. I think we both generally pass as being older, especially dressed like this, but I'm realizing that we're probably some of the youngest people here. It makes me wonder if Matt's dad pulled strings to get him an invite. Pushing his son into this corporate world already, like he expects him to fail in football before he even gets his chance after graduation.

After our champagne, Matt gets me on the dance floor and sweeps me off my two left feet, leading my steps with his hand pressed to the small of my back. I've lost track of time when a haughty voice punctures our laughter.

"Mind if I cut in?" A tall guy with dark, slicked back hair approaches us, his confident gaze shifting to me. "You can do so much better than this dickhead, sugar."

I gape at him as Matt steps forward, getting right up in the guy's face. "Wanna repeat that, asshole?"

"You heard me." He smirks, completely unaffected by Matt's threatening aura. "Pretty boy got the balls to do anything about it?"

"Try me."

My stomach ties into a knot as they stare knives at each other for a lengthy moment, and then suddenly, beaming grins break over them both. Tension shattered.

"Matty Benson. Should have known you'd slither your way in here."

"Takes one to know one." Matt laughs, drawing me in from the edge of this bewildering interaction. "Lia this is my friend Evan. Our families have been spending summers together in the Hamptons for forever."

"Oh." I breathe out a laugh. "Right. Makes sense."

"Nice to finally meet the girl who has this guy so whipped." Evan smoothly looks me over, stretching out his hand to shake. "He's been bragging about you since you were just a pretty picture in his phone. Spent more time in your DMs than he did with us this summer."