21. Alex

Chapter twenty-one

Alex

T he party throbs with a heartbeat of bodies making the air thick with sweat and stale beer. I navigate the crowd, Victoria on one side, Celeste clinging to the other. The adrenaline from the game still buzzes through me, but the forced backslaps and hollow “great game” feel like dead weight.

“Alex! You crushed it out there!” someone yells over the music. I force a smile and nod. That’s all they want.

During the game, I noticed Daphne cringe every time I was tackled. It would have been funny if I could have consoled her each time, but her worry made me feel weak.

I feel Celeste’s fingers creep up my arm before she thrusts a red Solo cup at me with her other hand. Her smile’s too wide, her eyes too bright. “To celebrate,” she says.

I take the cup. It’s just beer, but it tastes like bitter obligation. She leans in closer, suffocating me with her perfume. I step back, but she follows as if we were bound together. Thank God Daphne’s not here to see my ex all over me .

“Space, Celeste,” I mutter.

She pouts, then sings, “Sorry.” Clearly not sorry at all.

This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have lied to Daphne. Needing to get away from my ex, I scan the room to search for an escape.

There. I spot my sister. She’ll save me.

That is until I notice Eden’s with her, trailing behind like a shadow. Eden is Daphne’s best friend. If Eden sees me with Celeste…

No. That can’t happen.

“Alex!” Victoria waves, oblivious to my panic. I duck behind a guy easily twice my size, hoping that Vic didn’t see where I went. Stupid, I know, but I’m desperate.

“Where are you going?” Celeste whines, but I ignore her to focus on staying out of sight. “Hello? Alex? What are you doing?”

Ugh. She’ll give me away.

“Let’s move,” I say when the coast is clear, pulling Celeste into the next room. She giggles, probably thinking it’s a game. It isn’t. It’s survival.

The bedroom door clicks shut behind me, muffling the bass behind the wood. My chest tightens.

Need to breathe, need to think. I sink onto the edge of someone’s unmade bed, the sheets a tangle of shadows in the dim light.

“Alex?” Celeste’s voice is close. Too close. I turn, and she’s right there. Her breasts touch my chest. “We’re alone,” she whispers .

I don’t want this. Never again. “Celeste, what are you—”

“Shh.” She’s peeling off her shirt, slow and deliberate. The fabric flutters to the floor, leaving her standing in just that bikini top. The one she knows I used to like. Used to being the key wording.

I refuse to look below her neck.

“Knock it off,” I say, my voice flat. But she’s not listening, or she doesn’t care. Probably both.

“Remember us, Alex?” Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “We were so fucking good together.”

I stiffen. We were something, sure. “That was then. It’s different now.”

She sniffs and then wipes at an eye. “I miss when you were my friend. When we could just be.” Her lips tremble, and the first tear breaks free. Now, I feel utterly guilty because she’s right. There was a time when we were good together.

“Hey, no crying,” I mutter, the reflex to comfort too ingrained to ignore. “It’s complicated, okay?”

“Complicated?” She sobs while taking a seat on the bed. “You act like I’m going to break you if I get too close.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” Even as I ask, guilt gnaws at me. We used to be close, but now, every move feels like a misstep on a minefield .

“Everything’s changed,” she chokes out between tears, and I can’t deny the bitter twist of truth in her words.

I tentatively reach out and press my palm against the quiver of her spine. Her sobs soften under my touch, but they don’t stop. “Remember the time when…” She trails off, catching her breath.

“When?” I ask, not sure I want to dredge up the past.

She nods, sniffing. “I told you to try out for football.” A wistful smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “You were so shy back then. If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be that pudgy kid with no friends.”

Her words burn. They’re meant to. At the same time, I can’t help feeling a twinge of gratitude mixed with the resentment. Is she right? Would I be where I am without her?

“Look at you now,” she continues, voice softening. “Hot, lean. All because I pushed you.”

“Maybe,” I concede, fingers stilling on her back. It’s hard to argue when I’m not even sure myself. Do I owe her this new life?

“A-Alex,” Celeste whispers as her voice breaks again. “We were great together. I never saw the end coming.”

I swallow hard, the weight of our history pressing down on me. “I know,” I admit. “I just—”

“Thought we were forever,” she cuts in, her eyes locked onto mine. Her gaze is heavy, loaded with memories and what-ifs. “ I was waiting for a ring, you know? Dreaming of little ones running around.”

Aww, fuck. I knew she thought about marriage, but a family too?

“Celeste, I—”

“Miss us,” she murmurs. “It was all so easy before.”

“Easy,” I repeat, the word turning to ash in my mouth. Was it ever easy? Or do I just wish it was?

“God, I miss that.” Her hand reaches for mine, and I let her take it. Just for a moment. Just until the tears stop.

The door slams open, and I jerk my head up, heart hammering. It’s Victoria, eyes snapping shut as she takes in the scene—Celeste on the bed, t-shirt gone, me standing too close in front of her.

“Sorry! Carry on!” Victoria blurts out, turning her back to us.

“No, wait!” My voice is sharper than I intend. I have to fix this. Deciding that going for a swim would explain why my ex-girlfriend’s shirt is off, I blurt, “We were just heading to the pool.”

“Really?” She spins around, curiosity piqued. “Me too! Let’s go.”

I nod, eager to escape. “Where’s Eden?”

“Making out with some random sophomore.” Victoria shrugs, brushing off the thought like it’s nothing .

Silent relief washes over me. Eden’s busy; she won’t see this mess. If she doesn’t see, she won’t tell Daphne how I lied about my plans tonight.

“Come on, then,” I urge.

As we reach the pool and take a seat on the concrete so my feet dangle on the edge, a jolt of pain travels up my leg. I had been tackled quite a bit tonight, and I guess I haven’t fully realized just how much my muscles are aching.

“Ouch,” I mutter under my breath.

Ever observant, Vic eyes my wince. “Hot tub might help with that,” she suggests.

“Good idea,” Celeste chimes in, also appearing concerned.

Masking my discomfort, I agree.

We shuffle towards the steaming hot tub. The air around it is thick with humidity and the scent of chlorine, mixed with a heady cocktail of adult sweat and perfume. Victoria commands, “Make room,” and somehow, like a school of fish, the bodies part to let us in.

I grunt in appreciation as I ease into the heat. The water feels like a thick, comforting blanket, enveloping me and soothing the ache in my leg. As I settle in, I feel the weight of bodies pressing against me from all sides. The hot tub is a tight squeeze, a human puzzle piece where everyone fits together whether they want to or not .

For a moment, the tension seems to melt away. The worries of the party, of Celeste, of everything, fade into the background as I let the warmth of the water wash over me. I close my eyes and breathe in the steam, trying to savor this brief respite.

Victoria giggles as someone splashes her, while Celeste squeezes too close to me. Then, in one quick motion, she sits right on my lap.

“Hey!” I start, the impulse to push her away itching at my palms.

Before I can finish, she turns to me, her eyes wide and pleading. “Friends are comfortable with one another. You’re making me feel like a stranger, Alexandru.” Her voice is a soft whisper, meant only for me.

My muscles tense. She’s got that look, the one that used to make me cave every time, a mixture of vulnerability and determination that I’ve always found irresistible. Plus, she used my entire first name as if she’s a stranger, like she said. I never wanted that. I still care about her as a person.

“Besides,” she breathes, her lips brushing my ear. “You stutter when you’re anxious.” A pause. “Just let go.”

I don’t want to stutter. Not here, not in front of everyone. Relenting, I nod.

“Right. So, let go. Have fun.” Her smile spreads wide, revealing a flash of dimples .

I swallow hard, feel the warmth of the water seep into my bones. It’s supposed to relax me, but it doesn’t. The weight of Celeste’s presence, combined with the chaos of the hot tub, only serves to heighten my anxiety.

I’m making a mistake, but once again, I’m stuck in my coffin.