Dichotomy.

After the show, we all pile into a van to take us to an after-party at the hotel we’re staying at tonight.

Tina’s in the row ahead of me, not really listening to what Tom is saying right next to her.

She’s been avoiding me…again.

I’m not surprised in the slightest even though I don’t know exactly why.

I just know I haven’t been able to think straight for days.

“Brendon,” Spencer suddenly says, sounding exasperated.

“What?” I ask blankly, glancing around. I then realize I’m the only one still in the car.

“Would you get out so we can go get ready for the party?” he asks, raising his eyebrows inquiringly. “I still have to pick up Haley from the airport.”

“Right,” I say, following him out of the van and into the hotel doors.

“So what’s the deal with you and Tina?” he asks, once we’re in the safety of the elevator. Its interior is decorated with unnecessary mirrors, and Spencer’s hundreds of reflections ask me the same question from all angles. I rub the back of my neck, stalling.

“Deal?” I repeat dumbly. Does he know something? “I, uh…what?”

He stares at me strangely.

Smooth.

“I mean, I never know when you’re getting along or not,” he clarifies, but I don’t have a response for him. “Alright then…” he trails off, when I choose not to say anything at all.

“Sorry. Got a lot on my mind,” I say. I hum to myself to fill the awkward silence as we slowly ascend floors. He raises an eyebrow but lets me be.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I just want her to look at me.

I down the rest of my glass and excuse myself from a meaningless conversation.

I’ve had a few by now, and have an increasing need to get away from the party.

She’s sitting at the bar, talking to someone when she finally catches my eyes. I jerk my head towards the entrance of the room before she can look away. She has this slight smile on her face that I never see when she’s around me. I see her expression change slightly towards confusion before her concentration returns to the person in front of her.

I leave the room after I finish another beer.

I wait farther down the hall for her, partly convinced she’s not even coming.

But luck must be on my side tonight because I only have to wait a few minutes more before she walks out.

She spots me and heads my way, and I hate how great she looks right now.

“What?” she asks, once she comes to a stop in front of me.

“Kiss me,” I state evenly, or at least I think so. I’m buzzed enough that I’m barely conscious of the words leaving my mouth.

“What?” she repeats slowly, eyeing me like I’m some kind of sociopath. She looks around like someone will walk out and see us. But I know that it’s late enough that everyone’s too preoccupied with their own business to notice 2/3 of the guests of honor are missing.

I don’t wait for her to answer before leaning in to press my lips to hers. I feel her tense up before she relaxes again, letting her lips mold to mine. I don’t hesitate to deepen the kiss or let my hands wander. Her arms wrap around my neck so I can’t pull away; as if I had any intention of doing so.

She seems content to keep kissing, but tonight I’m greedy.

“I want…” I drop my voice a level and lean closer to her ear so she can hear me. “I want to sleep with you,” I mutter, waiting for a reaction. She doesn’t give me one, and I back away, thinking maybe I went too far this time. Her face remains passive and she studies me, but I don’t betray any emotion either.

“Fine,” she says suddenly.

“What?” I ask, dumbfounded. She sighs, rolling her eyes, slight irritation returning as always.

“You heard me,” is all she says before walking off towards the elevators.

I follow.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Her hotel room is just slightly smaller than mine- or maybe I’m too drunk to tell. She immediately locks the door behind us, not giving me any more time to survey her room before she pulls down my face to kiss me again.

I clumsily kiss back, gripping her hips as if she’ll change her mind if I don’t keep her close.

The only source of light is the moon outside the window, and it’s just illuminating enough that I can see what I’m doing.

I kick off my shoes and socks as we move for the bed. I fumble with the clasps of her dress before she pushes my hands away and impatiently removes it herself.

“You’re drunk,” she states emotionlessly, her almost-bare body taunting me in the semi-darkness. Her hands are carefully unbuttoning my shirt, ghosting over my chest while we sit at the edge of the bed, limbs overlapping, skin hot.

“What's the difference?” I retort, but she doesn’t respond, only leans in to kiss me as we continue to undress each other in the moonlight.