3. 3 Tori

Pound. Pound.

The knock on my door sounds like a jackhammer against concrete, drilling holes in my head as it wakes me. My hands instantly travel to my noggin, holding it tight as my eyes blink a million times to adjust my vision.

With a loud groan, and a shit ton of mumbled swears, I open the door to find Alicia at the entrance with a stained blue neck and forehead. Her nostrils are flared, her eyes on fire, and her finger pointed at her head, as if her body language is enough to tell me what her mouth isn't.

I stare at her with one brow arched in question and a smirk I'm trying hard not to let show. “I got shit-faced drunk last night. So, unless you're dying, I need to sleep this off while I can.”

After my interaction with Ryder, I spiraled and spiraled, unable to shake the terrible memories. More like that one good memory. Instead, I tried to drown my thoughts and feelings with a crap ton of booze I bought at the store, and drank in my room alone while Alicia got plowed next door. The walls are paper thin here .

At least one of us is enjoying themselves.

Bow chicka wow wow.

“This is your fault,” she blatantly states, waving her hand over her face and hair to show all the blue. And there's my brain cueing the song ‘I'm Blue’ with the parody of ‘I'm in Need of a Guy’. I think it's my theme song.

“Uh... how so?” I'm rubbing at my temples as I try to keep up, too hungover for the dramatics.

“You were supposed to help me dye my hair today before work. You wouldn't wake up, so I had to do it myself.” She lifts a lock of her hair that's stuck together to show another huge patch of blue staining her neck. I suck in a breath through my teeth, as if looking at it somehow hurts, which, internally, it does. “Help me!” She's upset, but I recognize this for what it is… a plea.

Considering Alicia helped me when no one else would, how could I turn her down for anything? Not exactly sure how much I'll be able to help, though, since the damage is already done.

Tinkerbell, I need some magic fairy dust.

“Give me a minute. I need three ibuprofen and water before I can deal with this. Wait for me in the bathroom.” I shut my door once more, plopping back on my bed face first for just a moment. I let out a heavy sigh into my mattress before lifting myself back up and taking some pain killers. I chug a cup of water and regret it momentarily, nausea washing over me for a brief second.

I grab what I can out of my closet from when I was studying cosmetology— yeah, that was not for me— and head to our crammed, single bathroom in the hall. She's sitting on the toilet, twitching her leg so fast, I think she'll take off like a rocket. I place my hand over her knee, steadying her movements in hopes her nerves will ease .

“I don't know how much I'll be able to help at this point.” I pick up a strand of her hair, inspecting it closely as I rub it between my fingers. “You know, you could have waited until tomorrow.” I regret not wearing gloves when even my skin stains with the dye that shouldn't still be bleeding. “Good God, woman! What did you do?”

“Shut up.” She's embarrassed, but mostly anxious about the state of her hair, so I don't poke further, getting right to work. She's quiet at first, but after about three minutes, she can't take it anymore. “Why did you get drunk?”

“Why do you have to know everything?” I roll my eyes as I wash her hair off.

“Because, as your roommate, I'd rather not have to find you dead from alcohol poisoning or some shit. I wouldn't know how to handle that.” I push her head under the water further, catching her off guard and making her yelp as the water drips down her face. “Rude.”

“I'm the one hungover and still helping. So, no. Not rude.” I contemplate telling her about the party, about my run in with the Iron Triad, but she'll only lecture me. She was in high school with me, my only other friend, tormented by them herself. Not nearly to the extent I was, but enough to leave its own scars. There's no way she'll forgive me for going to a party where I knew one of them would be. Even if it was Thorne.

“Whatever it is, you know you can talk to me.” She reaches blindly to grab my hand in a show of sympathy, pausing my washing for a moment.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Okay, good. Now hurry, cause Bren will be here soon, and I can't be seen looking like this.” I laugh until I realize I have no idea who the fuck Bren is.

“Who? ”

“Bren! You'll love him!” She gets excited, her voice rising an octave like it does when she's emotional. “I met him in one of my spring classes last year and thought he'd be perfect for you.”

“For me?” I pull at her hair in surprise. “What do you mean for me?”

“Ouch!” she complains, batting my hand before she continues. “You heard me. I'm setting you up.”

“I hate you.” I tug at her hair once more in annoyance, but I don't mean the words. I never mean those words when it comes to her.

***

Ding. Dong.

“That must be him!” Alicia is too excited as she practically sprints to the door, jumping with every step.

She toys with me, building suspense as she opens the door ever so slowly. I curse myself for not taking her advice and dressing nicer when the door opens fully, revealing a face so handsome, my body is instantly overcome with lust.

Forest green eyes, sparkling the same way a blade of grass does in the morning dew, stare straight at me in my black, t-shirt dress, and my Totoro purse dangling at my side. His smile is dazzling, beaming shiny white teeth that speak to his perfect hygiene, encased in beautiful, thick, pink lips that call me forward.

Alicia greets him kindly, but I can hardly pay attention to her words as I take this delicious man in, wondering how in the world he attends the same class as Alicia—the computer major. With a body so fit, I have a hard time imagining him sitting in front of a computer for hours on end. Not that all computer majors do .

But it's not exactly easy work, and sometimes it takes Alicia twelve straight hours to finish her assignments. Other times, it takes her a week or more, working on it bit by bit to get it done on time. I lose her to her black hole of a room at times during the school year. That's when I mainly venture out into the world and find a man to try and please me.

I'm a bit selfish in bed, I guess.

Two pairs of eyes are on me as they both stare my way, having missed my obvious cue. I awkwardly smile, taking a long step forward, and extend my hand for a shake. Why I think a handshake is the right greeting is beyond even my own comprehension. Really, Tori?

Thankfully, Bren is kind, taking my hand in less than a second, as if it was the right move for me to make. His hands are soft, smooth like a baby's ass, and warm. I love the warmth. My frozen appendages wrap around his palm and shake, enjoying the heat they're getting from him.

“Nice to finally meet the famous Victoria,” he says, stretching his lips out in a smile that has my stomach somersaulting and my heart thumping. God dumped the whole damn pot of good looking when he made you, didn't he?

“Uh, yeah. Nice to meet you, too,” I nod, shooting a glare at Alicia over his shoulder. He's heard about me, yet I've heard nothing about him until today. Granted, I would have hidden away if she had told me about him sooner.

There's one singular second of awkward silence before Bren easily guides the conversation along, making sure to include Alicia and me equally. It's obvious he's a very charismatic man, exuding an aura so rich, anyone would flock his way. The atmosphere is easy, relaxed, and oddly comfortable despite this being our first encounter .

“Okay, I'm stealing her now. I want to make sure to get her favorites at concessions before the movie starts. Don't worry, she'll be back by midnight.” He places his arm around my lower back in a way that is possessive, yet gentle, guiding us to the door. “Bye, Alicia.”

He's quick, knowing full well Alicia could talk for hours if left to do so. He closes the door behind us, taking a breath in the hall before gazing at me and then my purse. I internally cringe, worried my inner geek has ruined my chances. But if you don't love Studio Ghibli, I don't want you anyway… no matter how hot you are.

He smiles as he holds his hand out for me to take, not for a handshake, but as our first physically romantic interaction. I shyly place my palm in his, gripping the strings of my bag tightly in my other hand. It's not often I meet a decent man, so the trust is below ground level, even more so when the man looks like Bren—easy, nice, and sweet. It's almost always a facade, one that hurts too greatly when it cracks open to reveal its true colors.

“What are we going to watch?” I ask, knowing we'd be going on a date, but not knowing what kind until he told Alicia just now.

“ Spirited Away .” He grins widely at me over his shoulder as he starts us at a sprint.

“Wait, what?” I'm practically tripping over my Converse as I try to keep up, feeling excitement rush over me. Haven't felt that in a while. Don't question him, Tori!

“There's a small theater that is doing a Studio Ghibli marathon today. I wanted to catch my favorite one with you, if that's okay?” He knows all too well that it's okay by the way he eyes my purse again.

“More than okay.” Now I'm smiling, too, feeling the dead butterflies in my stomach spring back to life.

We run outside with me laughing as Bren almost trips, and I follow suit, each of us barely catching ourselves. A lovely pair of quirky, clumsy people. We make it to his dark green Jeep where he proceeds to open the door for me and help me up. Such a gentleman.

He's in the seat beside me, putting his phone to charge before reversing. Dammit. I left mine on the coffee table in the living room. It's fine. I won't need it… right?

His music begins to play so loud it startles me, jumping as the speakers boom to life. Stellar by Incubus serenades my ears part way through as he reaches for the volume button. I grab his hand, shaking my head no, yelling, “I love this song!” Because I really do.

The ride is spent with us howling out Incubus songs as their album plays until we reach our destination. I haven't felt this hopeful about a guy in quite a while, so I'm bracing myself for the downfall that's soon to come. It always comes.

Again, Bren opens the door for me and helps me hop off the Jeep, taking my hand with such ease that it doesn't register in my mind at first. He leads the way around the corner to a small theater I'd never been to before. It's old, but has that vintage charm everyone seems to love nowadays. They've kept the original theater sign hanging on the front of the building with a frame of iridescent bulbs.

The workers wear small, red hats, matching vests, and striped white and red button-down shirts. There's a vibe and I'm definitely digging it as we approach the small, round window to order our tickets. Bren says what we need and pays so fast I don't have time to even fumble in my purse.

Two small stubs print with a themed background, gracing the paper with Totoro himself. I smile so wide, I have to contain my squeal as he hands me my ticket. My inner nerd is screaming. Surely I look insane, the way my eyes are devouring the art, enjoying every little drawn Totoro—from him sleeping to him holding an umbrella .

“Pretty cool, right?” He waves the stub in the air, clearly noticing me geek out. I nod, biting my lip to keep from smiling any bigger. I'm not a freak. I promise.

“Very.” I smile as normally as possible. What even is normal, anyway? I follow him past the red swinging door with a small, circular glass window at the top and into the lobby.

The aroma of movie theater popcorn immediately greets me, inhaling deeply so that every cubic inch of my lungs is filled with the scent. The lobby is fairly empty, with the exception of two workers and ten other patrons looking to snack while they watch. We join the line in silence as Bren fixes his gaze on the menu.

Meanwhile, I'm busy wondering what I can order without seeming like the fatass I am. Why is this a thought I have to have? Fuck you, society. I decide I'm going to order whatever the hell I want and pay for it myself, because I want Twizzlers, a large popcorn bucket, sour worms, and a soda.

I'm splurging. Nom nom.

My spirits are high, my stomach growling, and my mouth watering as we wait our turn being next in line. I'm so focused on the counter, on the worker who'll be taking my order, and the beautiful display of candy on the shelves behind him that I don't care to notice the people around us, not sensing the danger I'm in.

His cologne is what snaps me out of my daze, triggering me with his scent alone. Ryder Hayes. I freeze just as the customer in front of us takes their things and leaves. Bren takes a step forward, as he should, leaving me rooted in place, too focused on Ryder's scent. He's close, but I am not sure how close. Feeling it may be questionable, I try not to look around.

Chill the fuck out, Tori .

Taking a deep breath, I lift my foot to take a step, finding myself unable to do so as Ryder has a hold on me. His arm has wrapped itself around my waist, keeping my back pressed against his chest. His breath blows the hair around my ear, tickling me with unwanted warm air.

“Cheating on me, Vicky?” he whispers, his lips lightly tickling my earlobe for a brief second.

Goosebumps erupt down my arm, raising the hairs throughout my body, and pooling a strange warmth in my gut. An all-too-well-known fear takes hold of me, and no matter how much I tell myself I've changed, at this very moment, I can't seem to shake off high-school me, staring at the back of Bren's head with worry he'll reject me because of Ryder . It wouldn't be the first time.

Ryder, Blaze, and Thorne made sure to scare away any males that showed even an inkling of interest toward me. They kept me isolated—easier to find and pick on, making sure I had no support system to help me, to build me back up and grow strong.

Bren turns to his right to ask me what I'd like, finding I'm not there. His gaze meets mine as he pivots to the right, spotting me a step behind him. It doesn't look good. I know it doesn't. Ryder still has his arm around my waist with a tight grip, that's also somehow gentle.

It feels like this is the movie—a tense scene in which I'm the main character as I watch Bren, waiting for his reaction. There's nothing I can really say here that would help explain this mess in a way he'd still find me appealing afterwards.

“Hey,” Bren tilts his chin up in a nod as he addresses Ryder, as if he's not some strange man clinging to his date. “You have your hands on my date, and by the look on her face, she doesn't want them there.”

His words are cold, hard steel, a vast contrast from the demeanor he's shown me so far. This isn't the charmer who showed up at my apartment. No. This is a man who fights, who doesn't take any shit .

My muscles ease at his words, feeling a relief I didn't think I'd be getting in this situation. I want to cry, feeling so stupid, like some sort of burden. Some first date. No one wants to have to physically fight for a girl on day one. That's just asking for too much, isn't it?

“Aww! Is that true, Vicky?” Ryder teases, letting my waist go as he raises his hands in the air in mock surrender. “You don't want me to touch you?”

There's something hidden in his words. I know it. It causes a moment of hesitation as I answer. “No. I mean yes.” I fumble, trying to get my head on straight. “It's true. I don't want you to touch me.”

“Oh, Vicky. Don't you know that's all you had to say?”

Lies. There's something hidden behind those electric blue eyes; something that says this is only the beginning. I watch him carefully, seeing him slide himself back into his innocent act as he lifts his arms and takes a step back.

“Sorry I interrupted your date,” he addresses Bren, his tone so genuine, anyone aside from me would believe him. “Vicky, give me a call when it's my turn.”

He winks at me before turning casually, as if that last sentence isn't some bomb he just set off on my first date. My mouth is slightly agape, catching Ryder's side eye as he smirks, knowing exactly what he's just done.

Bren is quiet with nothing else to say, nothing to ask aside from what I would like to eat. The great hunger I felt moments before disappeared into thin air like Casper the Friendly Ghost. I settle on a bag of sour worms, knowing I need to stick something in my stomach to keep it quiet. He pays again, but this time feels different from before.

I suddenly feel like I owe him so much more than the money he'd just spent on me. The atmosphere has changed drastically from the beginning of our date, twisting my stomach into such a tight knot, it pains me to breathe.

We take our seats just as the movie starts, enjoying the animation style on the big screen. Every color is vibrant and warm, transporting me away from this nightmare, and into a magical world. The movie has my undivided attention, eyes open wide to take in every small detail, feeling the comfort this film has always brought me from a young age.

The feel of Bren's hand against my own pulls me from my escape as I turn to look into those sparkling, green eyes. He smiles at me and things feel normal again, as if the whole Ryder debacle never happened. We continue watching, eating snacks with our hands held between us for the rest of the movie.

When the credits roll, we stay in our seats until everyone has cleared the theater. Bren stands first, taking the empty bucket of popcorn and cup, like a good person , and dumping them in the trash as we leave. He pulls me along behind him, leading us back to his vehicle without a word.

I feel hopeful again, a stupid little smirk playing at my lips as I stare at the back of his chestnut hair. He has a fresh cut that makes me want to run my hand over it to feel all the little hairs tickle my palm. I'm lost in thought when we're pushed against the Jeep door, causing the step to dig into the back of my thighs.

This… this scene is too familiar. I know what's coming next.