Can't Stop

Chapter 2

I let my head sink into the cold pillow, staring up at the ceiling. There was a small yet noticeable crack above my bed. It looked like a tree trunk, with tiny branches expanding and intertwining above me. I swear, each day the branches grew bigger.

This was the fourth day since I moved into my dorm. My roommate, Libby, was the first person to greet me when I got to the campus. She had already set up her half of the dorm to the left, which was fine by me, and then proceeded to help unpack all my boxes. My mom had them shipped beforehand to avoid traveling with so much luggage, and I had to admit that I was thankful she did. I still had two large cardboard boxes crammed on top of my desk that needed to be unpacked. Our dorm was so small, though, I honestly had no idea where to put half the things.

Libby's portion of the room was very bright. She hung up posters of reprinted Andy Warhol paintings and a giant collage she had made with photos of her friends and family. She was from Michigan, but you would never have guessed she wasn't a native New Yorker. Her short, choppy blonde hair and fashion-forward style made her fit in well with the other students. And although I had only met her a few days ago, I already liked Libby. There was something genuine about her that was undeniable. Her outspoken personality also helped us to meet others on our floor, and soon enough I had made a few friends.

Yet here I was, folding and re-folding the napkin in my hand, debating the same issue I had been all week. James.

Yeah, James from the plane. I know it sounds crazy, but we had some amazing conversations throughout the flight. For whatever reason, we really connected. He scribbled his number hurriedly on a napkin as the plane landed, and told me to give him a call if I ever wanted a tour guide around the city. Apparently he knew "all the amazing little places the tourists overlook".

A huge part of me wanted to accept his offer, but another said this was a bad idea. James was obviously much older than me, and probably under the impression that I was 21, considering he gave me his drink. Or maybe he knew I was younger and was just being friendly? Even so, I knew nothing about him besides the fact that he traveled often and had an addiction to reading. He was quirky and authentic. I smiled to myself just thinking about the way he looked at me intensely, as if he was truly interested in what I had to say. Would it be so bad if I just wanted to have another conversation with him? It didn't need to be anything romantic -- I wasn't looking for that, and I doubt he was either. I just wanted to know more about him. Even Libby thought I should at least text him. Of course, the thought crossed my mind that he would have forgotten who I was by now, or that he wouldn't be interested in seeing me. Hell, he could have given me a fake phone number out of pity or as a part of some cruel joke.

The sudden opening of the door interrupted my thoughts. "Oh my god, Cassidy!" Libby burst into the room, beaming at me as she plopped down on her bed. "We just got invited to what is going to be the craziest party of our lives!"

I raised an eyebrow, mildly intrigued. "We did?"

"Well, I did. But Danny and Ryan said I could totally bring you, too!" She squealed, waving her hands around. "They're screening some film tonight at the Gateway Center, and one of the producers is throwing this huge after party. It's going to be insane, and we have to be there!"

I sat up and leaned back, allowing my shoulders to rest against the chilled bricks that formed the wall behind my bed. "Do we get to see the film, too?"

Libby shrugged. "I don't know, maybe. Who cares? This is the kind of party you go to and make connections," she said, still grinning at me. "You want to be in the movie industry? This is where it all starts! This night could change your life. Seriously, Cassidy, you have to come."

I bit my lip. Parties weren't exactly my scene, but maybe Libby was right? I didn't necessarily want to break into the movie industry, but I would love to meet and talk with other directors who have had some success. Maybe I could learn a thing or two, or at the very least, get a couple free drinks out of it. "Okay, I'll come," I conceded.

She jumped up, clapping her hands. "Yes! This is going to be so much fun!"

Her excitement made me laugh. "And you're sure we can get in to this?"

"Oh yeah, definitely," she nodded.

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I studied myself once more in the mirror. My long hair had been straightened, making it much silkier and more tamed than it usually was. I ran my fingers through my roots to give it some extra volume. I hadn't put on too much makeup, but I let Libby give me a subtle smokey eye after she begged me for half an hour. I blinked a few times, studying my eyes. They were usually a dull brown, but I had to admit that the combination of eye shadows she used really made them stand out. I still had the remnants of my summer tan, with freckles dusted across my nose and cheeks.

After trying on a few different ensembles, I decided on a flowy black tank top and dark skinny jeans. I wore black wedges, which made my legs appear much more toned. For me, this was dressing up, so when Libby walked out of the bathroom in a short, red dress with her hair in a braided updo, I began to second-guess my outfit.

"Do you think this is too casual?" I asked as she slid her feet into a pair of nude heels.

She surveyed my outfit from head to toe. "Nah," she finally decided. "If anything, I'm probably overdressed."

I nodded, though I really had no idea. In fact, I had no idea what to expect from this entire party. How many people were going to be there? Would there be more dancing, or more mingling? In high school, I went to a few big parties, but those weren't even close to this realm. These people were sophisticated adults, not drunk and horny teenagers. Would there even be alcohol there, and if so, would they be IDing people?

There was a knock on our door. When Libby didn't move, I went over to answer it.

"Hey!" A deep voice yelled as two bodies stumbled into the room. Danny and Ryan, who lived together across the hall, sat on my bed and pulled out a large glass bottle of vodka.

"We're drinking before?" I asked, glancing over to Libby.

She shrugged, standing up beside me. "Sounds good to me."

Ryan smiled up at us lazily. They were clearly already intoxicated, but both helped themselves to another swig from the bottle. After a few gulps, Danny passed it to me.

I frowned, taking it in my hands. "You'd better not have herpes," I joked before taking a sip. It burned my lips and felt hot as it slid down the back of my throat. I shuddered, wrinkling my nose. Damn, this stuff was really strong.

Danny smirked as we watched me. "Yeah, we got the good shit," he said proudly.

I took a few more sips and handed the bottle to Libby. She proceeded to chug it, earning some cheers from the guys. When she finished, she glared at them. "Shut up!", she hissed. "I don't want the R.A. to come in here!"

They stifled their laughter, and we all passed the bottle around a few more times. Eventually Ryan stood up and screwed the cap back on. Danny stood up next, wobbling slightly, before taking the bottle and shoving it under my bed. "You can keep the rest," he winked at me.

The four of us made our way out of the dorm building. I could feel my temperature rise as the alcohol began to take its affect -- I was tipsy, but still in control. I couldn't say the same for Danny; he had drank the most, and it showed. While we walked down the street, other students and pedestrians passing by laughed at him as he stumbled.

After a little while we approached a tall apartment building. It wasn't far off campus, but you could tell students didn't live there. The lobby had marble floors with a giant fountain in the center, and the furniture looked expensive. We looked around in awe for a moment, mouths gaping, as we took in our surroundings.

Ryan stepped in front. "Alright guys, be cool," he said. He approached the elevator, and the rest of us followed behind him. After a moment, the doors opened and we shuffled inside.

"Damn," Danny said loudly. "This place is hella nice. How the fuck did you get invited?"

Ryan shrugged. "My uncle worked on the film. No big deal," he replied simply as he pressed the last button in the elevator, R.

"What's R?" Libby asked.

"Roof."

I widened my eyes. This was a rooftop party? Suddenly, I felt very underdressed. This was probably a cocktail dress type of event, with an open bar and waiters roaming around, serving those tiny gourmet appetizers. I bet the men were all wearing suits or tuxes, though Ryan and Danny had on jeans and casual shirts. We were all about to stand out from the rest -- a group of lost college kids at a private after party. I swallowed, preparing myself for the embarrassment.

When the elevator doors opened, I was greeted with blasting music and a chill night breeze. I stepped out gingerly, trying to avoid being noticed. Maybe I could just blend in and find a way to pass the time until Libby was ready to leave. I glanced at her, noticing her face light up as we walked onto the roof. She was eating this up, looking around in disbelief at all the people.

And there were a lot of people here. The rooftop was huge, lined with ambient lighting that gradually changed colors, from purple to red to blue. I could see a round bar in the middle, but the crowd swarming around it made it barely visible. I relaxed as I realized I wasn't underdressed; almost everyone wore jeans or a skirt and nice shirt. Libby looked a little overdressed, but she didn't seem to notice.

I felt her arm loop through mine as she dragged me towards the bar. "Do you hear that?" she called out, tilting her head to the side. "That's the sweet sound of free drinks and hot men calling our names."

I laughed as she pulled me into one of the bar stools. We sat for a few minutes, attempting to get the bartender's attention.

"Do you think he'll card us?"

"No," Libby said confidently. "They probably think everyone here is over 21."

As I nodded in response, a tall mixed drink slid in front of me. It was pink, darker at the bottom and lighter at the top, with a tiny umbrella and a thin slice of a lime sticking out one side. I stared at it, not registering that it was mine.

"Uh, I didn't order anything--" I began, frowning at the drink.

"It's from the guy over there," the bartender pointed over his shoulder at a man leaning against the bar, smiling at me. I blinked a few times -- that smile was so familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. When I waved back at him, he left his spot only to reappear seconds later beside me.

"Hey," he said.

I could feel Libby's excitement radiating off of her beside me.

"Hi. Thanks for the drink," I said, lifting it to take a sip. My mouth was overwhelmed first by the salt lining the glass, and then by the sickeningly sweet taste of strawberry.

He smiled again. Damn, have I met this guy before? I felt like I should have remembered if that were the case, he was pretty cute. He had short brown hair and dark, thick eyebrows. His skin was tanned, contrasting the blindingly white teeth that glistened as he grinned at me. He seemed short, nearly shorter than I was, but I couldn't tell from my chair. He rested an arm against the bar and watched me as I took another sip. "You should probably stir it," he chuckled as I made a sour face.

I blushed. "Oh, yeah." I reached for a straw and quickly stirred the drink, swirling together the shades of pink. Libby was now talking to another guy who had approached her, leaving me by myself. I racked my brain for something witty to say in response, but in my tipsy state I couldn't think of anything, and instead sat there in silence.

This only made his smile grow wider, which I hadn't thought possible. "I'm Dave," he said, extending a hand towards me.

I shook it. "Cassidy." I met his eyes with my own, and could feel my pulse quicken. The way he was looking at me -- it was like he could read my mind.

He frowned at me. "Why are you looking at me like that? What, a guy never got you a drink before?" Okay, clearly he couldn't read my mind.

"Hmm?" I stammered, snapping out of my thoughts. "Oh, uh... it's nothing. You just look really familiar."

He started laughing. "Well, I would hope so. I was in most of the film."

"What?"

"Yeah, I played Rocky. I was like the main guy, do I really look that different in person?" He was still laughing.

If there was ever a time for a facepalm, this would have been it. "Oh," I started, shaking my head. "Oh, duh. No, I just wasn't thinking straight," I lied. Shit, what if he started asking me questions about the screening? I should have just told him the truth.

Thankfully, he didn't push the subject. Instead, he ordered himself a scotch and sat next to me. "You having fun?" he asked.

I swirled my straw around, taking another sip before I answered. "Sure, I guess."

He bit his lip before grinning and nudging his shoulder against mine. "Huh, had me fooled."

"Are you having fun?"

Dave paused for a moment, then shook his head. "This isn't really my kind of thing. The party, I mean. Not the acting."

I met his gaze. "You're not into partying? Aren't all actors?"

"Nah," he chuckled. "I'm more of a homebody. I like to just chill... I have two cats, so I mostly just hang out with them. Wow, that sounded more lame out loud than in my head."

I laughed, shaking my head. "I'm the same way, I guess. But I don't have any cats," I admitted. "My friend sort of forced me to come out tonight." When I glanced back behind me, Libby was gone. Great, now I'd have to track her down later.

"My brother made me come. He directed the film, so he pretty much had to be here. And I'm in the movie, so I guess I had to, too. He's way more into it than I am, though. He likes all this artsy stuff; it's separate from the lame Hollywood drama," he said. "I haven't seen him in a while, though. He might have taken off."

I raised my eyebrows. "Already? It's not even eleven yet..."

Dave nodded. "Yeah, he's got a flight back to L.A. overnight. The dude never sleeps."

I took a final gulp of my drink, starting to feel the familiar sensation of drunkenness. Everything Dave was saying seemed funnier, more impressive. He told me stories about working on set while high, and how his cats were the ultimate cockblock at his apartment. Even his tale about never being able to find a matching pair of socks fascinated me. After another round of drinks, we both began slurring our words, laughing hysterically at each other.

He was still cracking up as he leaned in to my shoulder and whispered huskily into my ear, "Hey, wanna get out of here?"

It may have been due to my intoxicated state, or it could have been the allure of his charming smile, but I found myself nodding in agreement. Dave slung an arm over my shoulder, and we made our way back to the elevator.

He threw his head back with laughter. "The night is young, Cassidy!"

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