Looking to Lose (completed)

*13*

Back and forth, back and forth. I push myself on our porch swing, the motion mimicking my lurching stomach. Back and forth, back and forth. I feel the sangria slosh in my belly. Okay, maybe I overdid it on the whole mind-numbing thing. It didn't even work the way I wanted it to. Instead of letting loose and having fun, I've just been swallowed by my own drunken despair. Hence, the porch swing. And the wallowing.

A sudden weight on the other end of the swing causes me to jerk forward.

"Woah woah," a hand reaches out to catch me, steadying me on the bench. I look up at said hand's owner and come face to face with Aaron. I shut my eyes and groan, laying back in my seat.

"Nice to see you too," he says sarcastically, and I crack a smile. Usually I'm the one feigning niceties, and he's the quiet one.

"Why are you here?" I was doing such a good job not thinking about him.

"Your mom practically forced me to come, remember?" 

Gosh, we really are doing some sort of role reversal now: me asking the dumb questions, him giving the obvious answers.

"Oh, yeah," I mumble. "Is Diesel here?" I ask after hearing some excited barking from somewhere in the backyard. No doubt Rooney and Diesel are chasing each other through the crowd of people.

"Mmhmm," is all he says but I can hear the hint of a laugh, as if he's pressing his lips together to stop himself from chuckling.

"Good, good." I rest my head back down on the swing, my eyes fluttering closed as the rhythm of the swing lulls me into relaxation.

"You've had a lot to drink, haven't you?"

"Shhh don't tell my mom," I whisper, lifting my head and winking conspiratorially.

"Your secret is safe with me," he says solemnly, drawing a cross over his heart with his finger.

"You keep a lot of secrets I bet," I reply. I can't tell if I want to thank the alcohol for making me so bold or puke it up right here and now.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dunno," I shrug. "Your eyes are so serious, like you've got a lot of things trapped up in your mind."

At that he remains silent, leaning back and looking out over my front lawn. From our position on the top of the hill, you can see the city lights twinkling below us, causing an orangey glow to rise up and block any view of the starry night.

"How was your date?" he asks, breaking the comfortable silence. I groan again and he laughs.

"Finally realize he's not your Mr. Darcy?" he jokes, but my stomach drops. My mind flashes back to what Ros said about Aaron being the Darcy to my Elizabeth. Is he implying that he is my Darcy? No, that's not what's going on here. Get your drunken head in the game Isa!

"He's just really passionate about... accounting," I say, and I swear I can feel the swing shake as Aaron silently laughs. "And he was a terrible kisser," I say, joining in with the laugh. But I feel Aaron still beside me.

"Why did you kiss him, if you didn't enjoy the date?" he asks quietly.

"Haven't you guessed?" I say dryly. "I'm d-e-s-p-e-r-a-t-e," I spell out for him, stumbling over the letters a few times in my drunken haze.

"Desperate for what?" Aaron asks, his voice curious. I may be drunk, but I'm not drunk enough to blurt out that I'm desperate to lose my virginity. Some things are better kept a secret, even though I'm positive Aaron would be great at keeping a secret; it's in those cold eyes.