Something There

Chapter Sixteen

Songs for this chapter:
• Lifeboat - Heathers

Chapter Sixteen:

I've never been so relieved to see a particular person's face ever before in my life.

The shock of Bryce walking into the room distracts the creep in front of me long enough to allow me to step by him despite the narrow walls of the bathroom, and I instantly fall into Bryce's arms.

His embrace feels safe, and he hands on my waist are welcome, unlike that other boy's grip.

"What the hell?" Bryce growls at the boy, who suddenly looks a lot less intimidating now that Bryce is here.

I'm gently guided behind Bryce's tall figure so that he acts like a protective wall between the boy and I. Bryce still keeps a firm grip on my hand though, and I'm so thankful for it.

I'm so thankful for him, really; that he showed up now and that he showed up after we hadn't spoken for so long.

I missed him, I finally confess to myself. I missed him so much. Sure, he drives me insane, but he's still always so sweet to me. He makes me feel wanted.

"I'm sure you know how it is," the boy says. "Sometimes the parties just don't have enough slutty girls and you gotta work a little harder," he says, finally losing his balance and stumbling backwards into the wall.

I can feel the rage coming off of Bryce right now.

"You're sick, you know," Bryce hisses. "Fucking sick. No matter how fucking horny you are, it's never okay to drunkenly force yourself on someone. Now I highly advise you get the hell away from her," he says, turning back to glance at me quickly, "or any other girl here tonight."

My heart swells at his protectiveness, and I can also appreciate how he told that guy off when he was clearly in the wrong.

My head is still spinning as Bryce keeps a firm grip on my hand, seemingly waiting for Timothy to respond. He let's out an aggravated groan and I'm sure his head is probably just pounding from all the alcohol he's undoubtedly consumed.

"Fuck you, man," he huffs, directed at Bryce, and in one fluid movement Bryce reaches for the bathroom door, slamming it shut as the boy is still inside.

Bryce guides me down the stairs and straight outside. I'm still shaking from head to toe and if it weren't for his firm grasp on me I'm sure I would have tumbled right down the steps.

We walk down the driveway hand in hand, and he still hasn't said a word to me. It's as if he's trying to rush us away from the scene as he drops my hand, then wrapping an arm around my waist as we continue to walk hurriedly.

We're about halfway down the street when Bryce finally slows down.

"Can I see your phone?" he asks me, and I nod silently at him, digging around in my pocket before handing the device to him.

"Who do you think is the most sober?" he follows up, and I know he doesn't want to hear the name, but it's the truth.

"Mateo. He doesn't drink," I answer, and Bryce nods at me before pressing a bunch of buttons on the screen.

"I'm just texting him to say that we left so no one gets confused," he explains to me, and I nod, crossing my arms across my chest, trying to make myself as small as possible.

I want to go home to my own bed, listen to a cast album recording of one of my favourite musicals, and pretend that all of this didn't happen.

I'm glad Charlie isn't here right now or else he would've beat that guy up until he was left unable to breath on his own. He's always been the protective big brother but sometimes I just want to let things go; I'm happy with how Bryce handled the situation.