The Wrong Girl

I look at my reflection in the mirror, giving myself a good onceover. My hair, which is usually held up in a bun or ponytail to keep it from getting in my way, runs down my back in blonde curls from beneath the black and white tricorne hat sitting atop my head. The long-sleeved white crop top I’m wearing accentuates my already ample breasts, making them look larger than they already are, and shows off my toned stomach. The black leather pants I’m wearing have white side seams and hug the swell of my hips and—what Charlie calls—the perfect roundness of my butt. The six inch heeled black leather boots go over my knees and lace up in the front, giving my already shapely legs the appearance of being longer than they actually are. My look is finished off with a plastic sword tied off at my side, the curved hilt fitting perfectly in the space between the indent of my waist and my arm as it hangs loosely at my side. My lips have been painted a bright red that stands out, though not garishly, against my pale skin. A light blush has been added to my cheeks and dark eyeliner makes my blue eyes pop more than they normally do.

I scowl and turn my face from the mirror. I look like a tramp. How did I even let Charlie talk me into going to this stupid Halloween party?

As if conjured by my thoughts, Charlie comes almost gliding into the room. She’s wearing a green, blue, and purple dress where the colors all seem to blend together. The top of the dress hugs her breasts, cinching beneath them before the skirt flares out, stopping just below her butt. The sandals she wears are the same sea green as her dress, the straps traveling up her legs to wrap around her muscular calves. She wears a matching feathered mask that covers half of her face, only her wide hazel eyes and full lips visible. Her hair falls down to her shoulders in large barrel curls.

“Cyn,” she squeals, eyes taking on a proud look as her smile widens to encompass what is visible of her face. “You look hot! I knew that outfit was just perfect for you,” she says while plucking a pair of wings that appear clear at first glance, but shimmer with purples, blues, and greens when the light hit them just right, from where they hang on a hook on the back of the door and slip them onto her back. “I can’t believe you ever doubted me.”

I roll my eyes. Charlie is so annoyingly peppy. Just being in the same room as her makes me tired sometimes.

“I look like a hooker,” I say flatly, trying to pull my shirt down to cover more of my stomach, only to have my breasts nearly fall out of the top. Charlie lets out a tinkling laugh that grates on my nerves, and I shoot her a ferocious look. “Don’t make me change my mind about going, Charlie.”

That shuts her up, her mouth snapping closed with a small click. I almost manage a smug smile when she starts to whine and I heave an annoyed sigh.

“But you have to come, Cyn. You’ve been here for nearly seven months already and you’ve barely made any friends. You got a pass last semester because of what happened, but it’s a new school year. You need to show people that you can be fun; that you’re a friend worth having.”

I scowl but don’t respond. She’s right, of course. When I moved back last year I got away with being bitchy and standoffish because my mother had just died in a car accident barely a month after my father died of cancer. This semester I’m just a coldhearted cheerleader who nearly everyone is afraid of. And while that is fine with me, Charlie has made it her personal mission to get me to go out, socialize, and show our classmates that I know how to have fun. The first step of this is for me to go with her to the yearly Halloween party held at the Jenner house.

Seems like tedious work to me. I have no interest in making friends. I already have Charlie, and I can barely tolerate her.

She only smiles when I tell her this. “Don’t play. You know you love me.” She swats my hand away from my shirt. “And stop pulling on your top. You look fine. If you keep tugging on it you’re only going to stretch it out, make your boobs fall out, or both. You’re supposed to be a sexy pirate. Not a hooker with a sword strapped to your hip.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble, letting my hands fall to my sides.

She turns back to the mirror and adjusts her dress so that the tops of her breast peak out, sending my own chest a slanted glare in the mirror. “I don’t even know why you’re trying to hide them. I wish I had a rack like yours. Hell, I wish I had a body like yours.”

I roll my eyes again and walk back into my room to avoid another lecture on how I should be happy with my body; most girls would kill to have a body like mine.

I see a blue light blinking on my phone from where it sits on the bed, indicating that I have an unread text message. It’s from my cousin Daryl, saying he can give us a ride to the party if we want, but he wants to leave at 10:00.

I look at the clock. It’s 10:10. I roll my eyes and head for the door. Why didn’t he just come and knock on the door? His room is just across from mine. I cross the hall and bang on his door. When I don’t get a response, I open the door and enter his room anyway. A quick look around his unsurprisingly dirty room tells me he isn’t here. I slam the door as I leave and stomp down the hall towards the stairs, heels click-clacking on the hardwood floors.

“Aunt Janis,” I call from the top of the stairs. No need to head down if I’m just going to have to turn back around.

Her head pops up from around the corner and she smiles up at me. “Yes, sweetie?”

My heart pulls in my chest like it always does when I look at her. She looks just like my mother: all blonde curls and bright blue eyes. I shake the thought away before it goes down a dangerous path.

“Did Daryl leave already? He was supposed to give Charlie and me a lift to the party.”

“Is that what you’re planning on wearing?” she asks with a frown. “That outfit is awfully revealing.”

I’m surprised she says something. Since I moved in in January, she and Uncle Derik pretty much let me do what I want. They’re afraid of stepping on my toes or breaking me more than they think I already am. Poor Cyn with her dead parents. It’s only natural if she acts out a little.

Charlie and Daryl say I should be happy about that too, but I don’t care about having free reign to do pretty much whatever I want; I just want them to stop walking on eggshells around me. I’m not going to break because they tell me they don’t like something I’ve done.

Before I can respond, Charlie is beside me waving my aunt’s words aside. “Don’t worry Mrs. Barton. I’ll keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t do anything too promiscuous.”

I snort and my aunt sends her a dubious look. “I think she’ll be more likely to keep you out of trouble. Regardless, the two of you are going to have to find another ride to the party. Daryl already left.”

“That’s fine. I can drive,” Charlie all but sings before I can snap at my aunt for raising such an annoying child. He didn’t even have the courtesy to tell us he was leaving, or even to ask in person if we wanted a ride.

We leave fifteen minutes later, easing into Charlie’s red Volkswagen Beetle. She’s all but bouncing in her seat she’s so excited.

“Can you even see the road with that mask on?” I snap.

“Of course,” she says happily. “I’m not going to get us killed or anything, Cyn. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

I cross my arms over my chest and slouch in my seat, fighting the urge to tell her she harassed me into wearing a thong today so there’s no need to worry about that.

The remainder of the fifteen minute drive is spent in relative silence, Taylor Swift blaring from the radio.

Charlie parks at the end of a long line of cars across the street from a large house with a wraparound porch, and as we weave our way through another long line of cars to reach the walkway Charlie talks excitedly about the house.

“Technically there are six bedrooms, one downstairs and five upstairs, but both of the attics were converted to rooms too, so there are actually eight. I guess you might be able to count the basement too since it was converted into a sort of studio apartment. Oh! The room above the garage was too. Brad says that Bryce is always sneaking girls up there to have sex, not that their parents really even care.”

She continues to yammer on with me only half listening, until we reach the front door. Or maybe I should say doors since that’s what greets us. Two large, imposing wooden doors greet us as we step onto the porch. I’ve never been to a party like this before, so I’m unsure of what we’re supposed to do. Do we knock or ring the doorbell?

Before I can ask, Charlie just pushes the door open and walks in like she owns the place. When I step in behind her, I am immediately hit with loud music and the scent of alcohol and sweat. The house is already milling with large groups of teenagers dancing, drinking, and making out.

I suppose the house with its high ceilings, wooden floors, and expensive-looking paintings would be beautiful if it weren’t for that fact.

We’re making our way to what Charlie assures me is the kitchen so we can get some drinks when a brick wall walks into me, nearly throwing me to the ground.

Once I’ve caught my balance, I look up, ready to give the person who walked into me a tongue lashing so severe they’ll be apologizing every time they see me for the next three months. That is, of course, before I am met with the beautiful emerald green eyes of Cooper Benson. Every harsh word about to leave my mouth catches in my throat and I choke.

He flashes me an apologetic smile, one hand wrapped around my wrist and the other on my hip. I realize that the only reason I didn’t fall is because he caught me.

“Sorry about that, Cyn,” he says. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

I blink up at him for a few moments still not saying anything. Coop is really tall. Even with these heels on, the top of my head barely reaches his chin. When I moved back last semester I was surprised by how tall he was, as children we’d always been about the same height, with him just a little taller, the top of my head even with his eyes. In my mind, the seven years that I’d been gone he had remained the same short, spindly kid he’d always been. I wasn’t prepared for him to be some kind of Greek god, all hard muscles and sharp jawline.

Maybe that’s why instead of trying to rekindle our friendship I’d been adamant about giving him the cold shoulder and only speaking to him when absolutely necessary.

His smile wavers when I still haven’t spoken after a few moments and I blink rapidly, breaking from my thoughts. I yank my wrist from his grasp and take a step back so that I can glare up at him without breaking my neck.

“Obviously,” I say, and I am proud that my voice doesn’t shake like I thought it might. “What are you even supposed to be?” I demand, taking in his outfit. He’s wearing black riding boots over tight black leather pants and a large, white billowy shirt that has a deep v-neck, that shows off his well-chiseled chest tucked into the pants. His long dreadlocks are pulled back in a ponytail and he has a plastic sword, similar to my own, tied at his waist.

He looks down at his outfit and then shrugs, offering me another flash of his teeth. “I was supposed to be Zorro, but I lost my mask. Mandy said I should be a prince instead.”

“Oh,” is all I say, not really sure how to continue the conversation. This is the most we’ve said to each other in last six months.

Before the silence between us can stretch on for too long and get too uncomfortable, Charlie comes rounding the corner with two red solo cups held tightly in her grasp.

“There you are, Cyn!” she exclaims, forcing one of the cups into my hands. “I thought you were right behind me. What happened?” Her attention has changed to Coop before I can even attempt to answer her. “Coop, hey! I like your costume. You’re a pirate, right?”

I can’t really tell because of the dim lighting, but I think his caramel colored skin flushes a little as he scratches the back of his head. “Actually, I’m supposed to be a prince.”

Not missing a beat, Charlie only nods, grin widening. “I can totally see that too. Like a warrior prince. Very cool.”

“Thanks,” he laughs. “I like you’re costume too, Charlie. Fairy, right?”

She all but preens at the praise, sending me a sidelong glance that I can easily interpret as saying,

“See, Cyn. Didn’t I tell you this was a good costume?” I just roll my eyes in response.

“What do you think about Cyn’s?” she asks Coop excitedly. “She’s a pirate. I picked it out for her, and she doesn’t like it.”

Heat rushes to my face when Coop’s eyes snap to me to take in my appearance. His eyes stop for longer than necessary on my breasts and he clears his throat and looks away awkwardly while I fight the urge to jam the heel of my shoe into Charlie’s foot. I take a sip of my drink instead. It’s something fruity, but the taste of the alcohol is still strong.

“It’s, uh, nice,” Coop murmurs, refusing to look at either of us.

“Just nice?” she hedges. “You don’t think she looks sexy?”

I choke on the large gulp of drink I’ve just taken and it actually hurts once I manage to get it down all the way. Charlie gives me a confused look and I elbow her in the ribs.

Coop is busy sputtering and tripping over his tongue, so he doesn’t mention anything about our odd behavior. His cheeks are red and he seems to be trying to stare a hole into the floor.

I decide to save him from his misery and speak up. “Of course it’s not sexy, Charlie. I look like a prostitute.”

She rolls her eyes. “You do not look like a prostitute, Cyn. Stop saying that.”

I scowl and go to take another drink from my cup but find it empty. I go to cross my arms, but quickly drop them when that only serves to push my breasts up even more.

“You don’t look like a prostitute, Cyn,” Coop says, actually looking me in the eyes. He averts his eyes when he says the next part though. “You look really, um, hot.”

I bring my cup to my lips again, pretending there is still drink in it so I can hide my face. I don’t even know why I’m so embarrassed. It’s not like he means it, anyway. He can’t even look me in the eye.

Charlie gives me an expectant look and I know she wants me to thank him for the compliment, possibly even try to flirt a little. She’s also made it her personal mission to get me and Coop together, convinced as she is that I have a crush on him. Which may or may not be true.

I haven’t decided yet.

“There you are, Coop. I’ve been looking all over for you,” Coby says as he comes up behind him, slapping him on the shoulder.

Coby and Coop are twins, although Coby is always introducing himself as the older brother because he had the good fortune of being born ten minutes earlier. They are identical in everything, except for the fact that Coby’s nose is a little crooked. The difference is barely noticeable half of the time. I know it’s for that reason that he keeps his hair cut short instead of in the same dreads as his brother.

When we were younger, they each had a headful of dreads and were regularly confused for the other, even by their parents. It was a constant source of frustration for them both. Just before my dad was diagnosed with a type four brain tumor and we decided to move to California where one of the top doctors in neurosurgery practiced, Coby took his father’s clippers and cut his dreads off.

I guess he never grew his hair out again.

“Hey, Coby,” Charlie all by sighs from beside me. She’s had a crush on him since second grade, when he pushed down Ray Sommers after the jerk cut off one of her long pigtails. It didn’t matter that a week later Coby stuck a piece of gum in the middle of her hair and she had to get it cut so short she kept getting mistaken for a boy.

“Hey, Charlie.” He gives her a little smirk. The irritating one he gives all the girls to make them swoon.

Tonight he’s dressed as a firefighter, wearing orange pants, suspenders, black boots and nothing else. He has a plastic ax slung across his shoulder. His body is just as perfect and Grecian as his brother’s and it takes everything I have not to stare at his hard abs, chiseled chest, and large biceps.

“Ice Queen, I’m surprised to see you here. What did they promise you to get you out of your cave, a fresh heart to devour?” Of course, whatever physical attraction I may feel for him is always squashed when he opens his mouth.

“Sorry, asshole, I don’t speak barbarian.” Before he can say anything more, I grab Charlie by the arm and drag her in the direction she’d come from with our drinks earlier, throwing over my shoulder, “It was nice talking to you, Coop. But next time, I think you should leave your beast at home.”

He offers me a small smile. “Yeah, it was nice talking to you too. Maybe you could save me a dance?”

I stumble at the words, completely caught off guard, and suddenly I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. Why in the world would Coop want to dance with me? He must just be trying to be polite.

I turn the corner without answering and immediately step into the kitchen. It’s huge, with high ceilings and marble cabinetry. There’s an island in the center of the large room, holding an assortment of drinks. The refrigerator in the corner of the room has been left open and I see even more drinks.

Charlie pulls her arm from my grasp and places her hands on my shoulders. “Cyn! What is your problem? Why didn’t you say yes?”

I shrug her off and walk over to the refrigerator and stare at my options of drink for a few moments. I don’t really have any experience with alcohol, so I’m not sure what I want to try.

The vodka would probably be too strong; I don’t want to kill myself. I’ve heard some bad things about wine coolers, so that’s a no go too.

“Cyn!”

I sigh and settle on an apple flavored Smirnoff Ice, hopefully it won’t taste too badly, and finally turn to Charlie.

“I don’t dance,” I tell her simply as I open my drink.

She rolls her eyes. “That’s a load of crap and you know it.”

Of course I know that. I’ve been in dance classes since I was three and was even part of a national team before my parents died. I don’t tell her that, of course. I just take a long drink from the bottle in my hand.

I blink and stare at the bottle, surprised at the fact that it is actually pretty good. The tang of alcohol is barely even noticeable. I grab another bottle from the refrigerator, tuck it under my arm, and head towards the exit without sparing Charlie another look. I know she’ll follow me, probably with an annoyed look on her face and a lecture on her tongue.

“Cyn!” She snaps, falling into step with me. “You’ve been pining after Coop since you got here. He asked you to dance, the next step is obviously asking you out on a date.”

I side eye her and take another gulp of my drink. “I have not been pining over anyone. I do not pine. And I don’t think that the next logical step from dancing is dating.”

She slips the extra bottle from under my arm and opens it for herself, ignoring my glare as she takes a drink. “For Coop it is.”

We round a corner and step into a large room filled to the brim with people and Charlie grabs my hand and drags me into the center of the crowd before I can turn the other way to find a less populated room and starts dancing to Kesha’s Die Young. She doesn’t drop my hand, and her dancing and jumping around jostles me and causes me to drop my drink at one point. She doesn’t care, just continues dancing.

With an annoyed sigh, I start moving as well. I know she won’t let me go until I do. Charlie flashes me a grin before somehow managing to take a drink from her own bottle; I guess mine was kicked away because I don’t see it anywhere.

When the song changes to Charlie XCX’s Boom Clap, arguably one of my favorite songs, I realize that I am no longer being jostled around by Charlie. She’s dancing and singing the lyrics at the top of her lungs in front of me and I realize that I could slip away now if I wanted to and she wouldn’t be able to stop me. For some reason, I don’t. I stay on the dance floor with her for three more songs, expertly avoiding the hands of drunk boys trying to drag me into a dance with them, and keeping Charlie from them too.

As we dance, I feel a smile trying to fight its way across my face. I’d forgotten how relaxing it could be. I close my eyes and for a moment I am Cynthia Aaron, founder of the dance team at Cedar High School and favorite for cheer captain next year. Dating Toby Henderson, senior and starting quarterback of the football team. I am bright and happy, and life is good. My dad is in remission and mom is taking classes to finally finish her MSW.

But the illusion is shattered when I feel large hands on my hips as they move with the music. My eyes fly open and I look up to see Jack Sparrow grinning down at me. My scowl immediately finds its rightful place on my face and I am once again Cyn Aaron, ice queen, cynic and a general hatred for most people. My parents are dead; my dad died of breast cancer after being in remission from brain cancer for five months, my mother died in a car accident barely a month later. Toby Henderson cheated on me with my best friend after realizing that I wasn’t going to sleep with him. I don’t dance and the only reason I am on the cheerleading team is so I can put extracurriculars on my college applications; I only made team captain because people either felt bad for me because I’m a “lonely orphan” or because they were too scared to vote for anyone else, even though I made it very clear that I do not want the title.

I stop dancing and glare at him. “You have ten seconds to explain yourself. Go.”

His hands reach around and squeeze my ass. “You are looking mighty fine tonight, Cyn.” I recognize his voice immediately as Bradley Jenner’s, the host of the party. “I always knew you were hot—thank God for cheer uniforms—but who knew you were sexy?”

My scowl deepens. I’ve never liked Bradley, he’s always been cocky, convinced he’s God’s gift to women, and will screw anything with breasts and a pulse. He’s probably the only person who annoys me more than Coby.

“If you want to keep your hands,” I say slowly, “I suggest you move them.”

He gives me another squeeze and flashes me a lecherous smirk. I’ve jammed the heel of my shoe into his foot before even I realize what I’ve done.

His hands drop from my waist and he starts spewing expletives as he hops up and down on his good foot.

I walk around him and see Charlie dancing with Dracula. I tap her on the shoulder.

“I’m getting out of here,” I tell her when she turns to me. “Too many people in this room.”

She blinks at me a few times before I see her eyes flit back to Bradley, who’s still spitting curse words, and steps away from her dance partner to grab my hand. “I’ll come with you.” She holds up her empty Smirnoff bottle. “I need to get something else to drink anyway.”

She grabs my hand and is pulling me through the crowd before I can protest.

When we break through the crowd, we don’t end up at the hallway where we’d entered the room. Instead, we’re in a large room, although it is smaller than the one we were just in. In the center of the room, a pool table, a ping-pong table and a foosball table are placed strategically. All of which are surrounded by people playing the games in an effort to get more drunk than they already are. To the left of the room are a few tables where people are playing various card games as they drink, and in the corner is a lounge chair where Ivy Hendricks and her flavor of the week are trying to suck each other’s face off.

Charlie is dragging me to the other side of the room where a large table is set up like a bar. Bryce Jenner, Bradley’s twenty-two year old brother, is behind the table mixing and serving drinks.

He grins at us when we step up. “Hey, girls. What’ll it be?”

Charlie asks for a Rum and Coke for herself and orders me a Long Island Ice Tea. He nods and turns away to make our drinks after giving me an odd look.

I’m surprised she only ordered me a tea, I thought for sure she’d be forcing alcohol down my throat all night. I don’t say anything, though in case she flags down Bryce again and orders me vodka or something.

“He’s only here because he got kicked out of school last month after he kept showing up to class drunk or high.” Charlie murmurs, glancing at the second oldest Jenner. “It’s crazy too, because he was supposed to graduate in December and even had a job set up for when he was done.”

“Mm,” I purse my lips. “And now he’s here serving drinks to underage high school students.”

Charlie looks at me, but before she can speak, Bryce is in front of us again and sliding our drinks over to us. “Here you are ladies.” He flashes me a grin. “Try not to drink that too fast.”

“What do you mean by that?” I snap. “It’s just tea.” I take a large chug.

Both he and Charlie look at me like I’m crazy.

“Right,” he says. “Just tea.” He opens his mouth again like he has something else to say, but is called away by a half-naked Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz in need of a drink.

“Cyn,” Charlie says slowly, “Long Islands are one of the most alcoholic beverages there are. It has like five different liquors in it.”

I glance at my cup and blink in surprise. It doesn’t taste like alcohol. It doesn’t really taste like tea either, but I definitely don’t taste any alcohol.

When I tell Charlie this she just shrugs. “He must have mixed it up really well,” she says before taking a drink from her own cup and leading me over to the ping-pong table. “We’re in for the next round,” she tells the Wolverine standing at the head of the table.

He nods. “Yeah, sure Charlie.”

I’ve drunk over half of my drink by the time it’s our turn to join the game, my feet are starting to hurt from standing in these heels for so long, and I am beginning to feel the effects of drinking. My tongue and my smile are both looser than they would normally be, and only become more so after twenty minutes, the rest of my long island, and three cups of disgusting beer.

I sink a ball in the final cup and cheer, high fiving Charlie before turning to Wolverine with a grin. “Drink up, Jackman!”

I barely acknowledge the warmth of his hand as he slides it across my bare back on the way to grab his cup of beer. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know I should be angry and well on my way to ripping the appendage off, but in my current state I am so loose and happy that I can’t even begin to dredge up any anger. I just laugh as he gulps down the beer and throws it on the floor before meeting my eyes with a predatory grin so sudden it causes me to take a step back in surprise.

His legs are long and in two steps he’s in front of me, wrapping his arm around my waist to pull me flush against him. He bends his head so that his lips brush my ear as he speaks: “I’ve seen the way you’ve been eyeing me all night, Cynthia. Why don’t you and I go someplace a little more private?”

I frown. Even drunk, I don’t want to go away with him. I don’t even know who he is. But before I can tell him this, his arm is gone from my body and I am whipped around—nearly falling in the process—to face a wild eyed Charlie.

“We have to go.” She’s dragging me by the hand towards an exit from the room before I can even begin to protest. “We have to find a bathroom. You have to switch outfits with me.”

Stumbling after her down the crowded halls where numerous people are sticking their tongues down each other’s throats, I try and fail to break my hand free of her tight grip. “What? Why? The whole reason I’m wearing this is because you didn’t want to. You said you were a pirate two years ago.”

“Yeah, well, that was before I saw Meredith Poole wearing an almost identical outfit.”

I roll my eyes. That’s the stupidest reason to change outfits if I heard one. Charlie’s refusal to ever be caught in the same outfit as another individual—except for cheer and dance competitions, of course—is absolutely ridiculous. She doesn’t respond when I tell her this, simply forces her way into the bathroom when the door opens as someone is leaving, completely ignoring the long line of people waiting to get in, slamming and locking the door shut behind us. It is only then that she finally drops my hand.

I don’t even have time to look around before she’s stripped from her dress and is trying to tug my shirt over my head. With an annoyed sigh I decide to help her, it would be completely pointless to argue with her. Ten minutes later we’ve changed outfits.

I glance at my reflection in the mirror and only my eyes and lips are visible behind the feathered mask. The dress is a little tight around the bust because I’m two cup sizes bigger than Charlie, and when I adjust it my breast spill over the top a little. The dress is so short I almost feel as though my butt is completely bare. I do like the shoes however, the flat sandals feel much more comfortable than those heeled boots. I wiggle my toes in appreciation.

“It doesn’t look nearly as good on me as it does on you, but it will have to do,” Charlie sighs.

I look at her to see what she’s talking about and can’t help but agree with her, if only a little.

She’s had to tie the top in the back in order to tighten it enough to show off her breasts because it’s so loose. Her hips aren’t as wide as mine and she doesn’t really have a butt to speak of, so the pants aren’t nearly as tight, though they aren’t in danger of falling off. She’s a few inches taller than me, so I’m sure that they’re also above her ankle, but the boots cover that up.

“It doesn’t look too bad,” I tell her with a shrug. “We can always change back if you want.”

She says no like I expect her to, before adjusting the shirt again so that her breast are more visible. “You go on out, I have to pee. I’ll be out in a second.”

When I step out of the bathroom, once again ignoring the angry glares and words from those who we’d skipped in line, I plan to wait for Charlie on the opposite wall. But then I notice Coop a little ways down the hall. Our eyes meet and he smiles at me and waves. I take that as an invitation to go speak to him.

I can hear the music from the other room and find myself moving to the beat even as I’m walking to meet him.

“Hi,” I beam up at him. The difference in our heights is only more pronounced now that I’m not wearing heels.

“Hey yourself.” He grins down at me. I stumble and he places a hand on my waist to steady me. “You been drinking? I’ve never known you to be anything less than graceful.”

“Just a little,” I giggle. The song changes and I squeal. I can’t place the name or the artist, but it’s definitely one of my favorites. “Oh! I love this song. Come dance with me,” I cry, grabbing his hand and dragging him in the direction the music is coming from.

He stumbles after me for a moment before reclaiming his footing, and doesn’t protest me dragging him by the hand through the throng of people in the makeshift nightclub. The first few songs we dance to are upbeat and have a quick tempo, so we don’t touch much, but the next song is slow and soulful. I look around and see all the other partygoers pressed so tightly to their partners it’s difficult to tell who’s who. A few people are making out, and there’s even a couple against the wall basically dry-humping.

I look up at Coop, without the heels I only reach the center of his chest, and smile. “We don’t have to dance anymore if you don’t want to.”

“Are you serious?” He laughs, placing his hands on my waist to pull me closer. “This is the most fun I’ve had all night.”

My face flushes as I wrap my arms around his neck, and I’m thankful for the mask and the dark that hides the added color to my cheeks. “You’re a much better dancer than I remember.”

He laughs and pulls me closer so that our bodies are flushed together, and wraps his arms around my waist so that his hands rest on the small of my back. “Yeah, well, I’ve been practicing since our parents forced us to take that etiquette class.”

I snort. “Why? Dance lessons were your least favorite part of cotillion.”

“That’s only because, at least in the beginning, the girl I was dancing with wasn’t very patient with me and was always complaining,” he tells me with a cheeky grin. “She even gave me up after a few lessons.”

“Well, it’s your own fault for stepping on her toes.”

His parents, Charlie, and mine signed us, Coby, and Charlie up for etiquette classes six years ago, just before my father was diagnosed, as punishment for causing a food fight at school. Coop had been Charlie’s dance partner at first, but he kept stepping on her toes so she begged to switch with me. He was always stepping on my toes too at first, but I didn’t mind because he was my best friend and I enjoyed teaching him the steps that came so naturally to me. When cotillion finally came around, he only stepped on my toes five times during our dance.

The song ends and he suggests we go outside for a few moments. “I’m beginning to feel a little claustrophobic,” he laughs.

This time, he’s the one to grab my hand and lead me from the room. His hand is warm and large, completely enveloping my own. He leads me through a few rooms before we come to a sliding glass door leading out into a spacious and beautifully landscaped backyard.

“It looks like a tropical rainforest,” I gush once he’s unlocked the door and we’ve stepped outside. I’m surprised no one from the party has spilled out here.

The cool air feels nice against my sweaty skin after being in the hot, crowded house for so long. It makes me shiver though, and Coop wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close almost instantly.

“I know,” he murmurs, nose buried in my hair. “It reminds me of when were kids and would talk about becoming explorers. Do you remember that?”

I smile and snuggle further against him. Of course I remember. I was going to be the lead explorer, if Charlie didn’t beat me to it first, and Coop and Coby were going to be our pack mules, photographers, and medics. We’d even been trying to save up money to make a trip one day.

“I still have that postcard of the rainforest in Costa Rica taped to my wall,” I tell him.

He laughs. We spend the next fifteen minutes like that, wrapped around each other as we talk about what things were like when we were younger when we’re interrupted by a buzzing and I feel a vibration on my back. I jump in surprise, and Coop drops his arms from around me to dig his hand into one of the pockets of his too tight pants and pull out his phone. I am immediately cold.

As if sensing that, he wraps an arm around me to pull me against his side as he scrolls through his phone. I sigh happily.

“Coby’s looking for me,” he says after a moment. “He’s with Daryl and says they can’t find his…corsage, whatever that means. Says he wants me to come help look.”

I give him an odd look. What in the world was Daryl doing with a corsage? And if it was lost, I’m pretty sure there’s no way they’re going to be able to find a small flower bracelet in this house, with this many people.

He laughs when I tell him this, shrugging. “True. But you know those two. If I don’t at least pretend to help them look it will be all my fault if we never find it.”

That is true. Besides, I need to go find Charlie anyway. It’s been at least 45 minutes since I saw her last and she’s probably wondering where I am.

“I should probably go too,” I tell him with an annoyed sigh. I’d much rather just stay out here talking with him all night.

“Don’t look so upset,” he says, poking me in the side and causing me to squeak and jump away from him. He immediately pulls me back against his side. “It’s not like we’ll never see each other again. I mean, we do have almost all the same classes.”

“I know that,” I grumble at him with a weak glare. “It’s just that I was having a nice time. Big crowds aren’t really my thing.”

He arches a brow and his lips quirk in a disbelieving smile. “Since when?”

“Since forever!”

He shoots me another skeptical look but before he can say anything he gets another text. He reads it and rolls his eyes and sends back a quick reply before showing me the text message:
This is serious, Cooper. We can’t find her ANYWHERE!

“He must be really drunk if he’s referring to a corsage as a person,” Coop laughs. “I better go before those two get into some real trouble.”

“Okay,” I say, staring up at him. A thought crosses my mind and I consider whether I really want to act on it. If it freaks him out, I can always just blame it on having drunk too much the next time I see him. Maybe even pretend I don’t remember.

Decision made, I wiggle from out of his embrace so that I am standing fully in front of him. He gives me an odd look, but I just smile up at him. “Thanks for dancing with me, and talking to me. It was fun.”

I stand on the tips of my toes and reach my hands up so that I can grab ahold of his face and pull it down towards my own. I meant to kiss him on the cheek, but he turned his head at the last minute and our lips brush lightly against each other. A shock runs through me and I jump in surprise.

The surprised look on his face tells me that he felt jolt of electricity as well and I offer him a shy smile, prepared to say something to diffuse the tension I can suddenly feel surrounding us. It’s bearing down on me so heavily it’s almost hard to breathe. But before I can even think of a word, his lips are on mine again, only this time it’s not so lightly.

His arm wraps around my waist and pulls me against his chest and my hands slide from his face so my arms can wrap around his neck. He gently nips my bottom lip and the sensation causes me to gasp in surprise. He takes the opportunity to slowly explore my mouth with his tongue.

At first, I think I’m not going to like it. Toby used to try to kiss me like this sometimes and I never found it enjoyable. It was always too wet and slobbery.

I should have known it would be different with Coop though. Because, of course it is. It’s perfect, really, and everything I always thought a kiss should be. Magical and wonderful and able to knock the breath right out of you.

Seriously. I could die right now and I wouldn’t even care.

When we finally break apart after what seems like an eternity and no time at all, we’re both panting. My heart is beating so hard I’m sure it’s going to burst from my chest. I bring my arms down so that my hands rest on his chest and I feel his heart beat in perfect synchronization with my own. It makes me smile.

“Wow,” he breathes, bringing his head down to rest his forehead against mine. “That was just…wow.”

“Very eloquent,” I laugh. “But it does do a nice job of summing it up.”

His phone begins to vibrate again, only this time it doesn’t stop. He’s getting a phone call. Coop groans as he pulls his head up and answers his phone.

“I said I was on my way, Coby.”

“Well move faster!” Coby’s voice is so loud it’s almost as if he’s standing right next to me.

Coop holds the phone away from his ear. “You’re really freaking out over a corsage?”

There’s a pause before Coby’s voice becomes clear again. “What are you talking about? Cynthia is missing; no one's seen her in an hour!”

I expect him to laugh and tell his brother not to worry, that I’ve been with him the entire time.
There’s no need to go on a manhunt, which I wouldn’t put past them.

What he does instead completely surprises me. He takes a step back from me and the arm wrapped around my waist slips away, his face hardens into seriousness and even though his eyes are on me it’s like he can’t see me.

“I’ll be there in a minute. Tell Daryl not to worry, I’m sure she’s fine. This is Cyn we’re talking about.

She can take care of herself.”
But even as the words leave his mouth, I can tell from the way his eyes draw together that he is worried. After all, I’m not the type of person to wander off alone. Never have been, not even when I was younger. If I wandered off, I was usually with someone I knew well. Someone that my family knew well and could trust. The fact that I had, apparently, disappeared and the handful of people who I could be with had no idea where I was spoke volumes.

The realization that Coop doesn’t know who I am, doesn’t recognize me, is like being doused with cold water. My face heats up in anger and embarrassment and my heart drops into my stomach as I take a step back. Of course he didn’t know it was me. He never would have spent so much time with me. He never would have kissed me.

He hangs up the phone and says my name. Only, it’s not my name.

“Charlie,” he says, and it almost feels like a punch to the stomach. “Charlie, it’ll be fine. Like I told Coby. Cyn can take care of herself. She’s tough. Always has been.”

Of course he thinks I’m Charlie. How could I have been stupid enough to think he would have any interest in me at all?

He places what I’m sure is meant to be a calming hand on my shoulder, but it has the opposite effect and I shrug him off.

“Charlie,” he starts again, but I cut him off.

“I’m not—!” I don’t finish the thought though.

What would be the point in telling him that I’m not Charlie? What would ripping this mask off and revealing myself truly accomplish other than hurting me further when I see the horrified, disgusted look on his face? So, I don’t finish the thought.

Instead, I push past him and rush into the house where I am quickly swallowed by a throng of people. I force myself through the crowd, pushing people out of my way, stepping on people’s feet, until I somehow find myself at the front of the house. There, in front of the door is a frazzled looking Charlie speaking animatedly with Daryl, who’s dressed up as Hercules, and Coby.

I walk up to them and grab Charlie’s arm. “I’m ready to go home.”

The three stare at me for a few moments before Charlie rips her arm from my grip so she can shake me by the shoulders. “Where in the world have you been? You were supposed to wait for me outside the bathroom!”

Before I can so much as roll my eyes, Daryl has pulled me away from Charlie to crush me against his chest. “We thought someone had rufied you. Coby and I were just about to go upstairs and start breaking down doors.”

I peek over at Coby. He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest and an annoyed look on his face, but I can see that he’s relieved that I’m okay too.

I pull out of Daryl’s hug and shrug. “I just needed to get some fresh air. It’s too stuffy in here. You know I don’t like crowds.” I look at Charlie. “And now, I’m ready to go home.”

She pouts. “But, Cyn. It’s only one. The party hasn’t even really started yet.”

“Fine,” I snap. “Then I’ll walk home.” I move around her to open the door. It’ll take me over an hour to get there by foot, but I have absolutely no qualms about walking home in the middle of the night.

“No you won’t,” Daryl snaps, gripping onto my wrist. “If you want to go home so badly just give me a minute. I’ll take you.”

Charlie sighs. “No, Daryl. You stay. I talked Cyn into coming and told her I’d leave when she was ready. If she’s ready now, then I guess it’s time to go.” I pretend I don’t notice the disappointed look she sends Coby’s way.

I snatch my arm from Daryl’s hand and stomp towards the door and throw it open, I wait for Charlie to lead the way outside before I glance over my shoulder at Daryl and Coby. “Sorry for making you worry. Enjoy the rest of the party.”

Over my cousin’s shoulder, Coop’s head easily towers over everyone else in the makeshift club as he tries to force his way through. His eyes meet mine and he stops short. We stand staring at each other for a heartbeat, and then he takes a step forward. I slam the door and rush down the porch steps after Charlie.