Still soaking wet, Alix helped herself to the salads, heaped up a hell of a lot of cheese, and added a few pickles and black olives at the end.
Bon-appetite. Welcome fricking home to home unsweet home.
People were right about one thing. Home was where the heart was. Her heart was with Ross Rivers. Always had been. Probably always would be. She’d lived without it, across the country, for four years. It hurt far worse to have it slam back into her chest and resume beating.
Play it cool. Stop it. Stop freaking thinking about it. Don’t look at him. Don’t let him see how much it hurts to see him again.
Not that he was capable of actually noticing. Ross always stole the spotlight. She could forgive him for that. She could forgive him for just about anything. Except for the fact that he’d never wanted her, even if that really was beyond his control. The heart just wanted what it wanted. It couldn’t be stopped. She knew she wasn’t his type. That he saw her as a sister. It wasn’t his fault that he’d turned her down when she’d asked him to take her virginity on prom night. She’d been rational about it, on the outside, while inside, her heart was withering and dying a slow, aching, brutally violent death.
He thought he was doing her a favor by saying no. What he’d really done was broken her heart, and he was too dense to figure that out. Two days later, she’d packed her bags and left for New Jersey, where she’d worked for two months before college started. She’d been accepted to three different colleges, all in San Jose. She’d only applied to New Jersey on a whim, since her math teacher had just happened to hand out applications for the college months before grad.
Her parents were pissed. They didn’t want her so far from home. She was pissed too. At Ross. For forcing her to leave, even if that wasn’t fair.
“Alix! Set that down and come help me!” Mom ran past her with a first aid kit in hand and like seven boxes of bandages, as well as a bottle of whisky, though whether that was for the patient to pickle his liver with or to be poured over the mysterious leaking wound, was unclear.
“For fuck sakes,” Alix muttered under her breath as she set her plate aside. She rarely swore, even in her own head. There was no one around to hear. Chance would have congratulated her, just like he’d high fived her the one and only time he’d ever heard her fart.
She set her plate down on the patio table. It wasn’t like she’d just spent the better part of the day packing and flying or anything. It wasn’t like she was starved. It wasn’t like this was supposed to be the one day that was actually hers.
Fucking Ross. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuuuuccccckkkkkkkkk.
By the time Alix made it over to the side of the pool, Ross was up, a tea towel with a dachshund dog and little tiny red bows all over it, pressed to the side of his head. She didn’t see any more blood seeping out, but there was a small crimson puddle where the outline of his body just was. She swallowed hard and tore her eyes away.
Between the frantic clucking of Ross’s mom and her own mom, and the rest of the guests, it was somehow decided that Ross would take her room to go lie down in until someone decided if an ambulance needed to be called or if he needed to be taken to the hospital.
He kept saying he just needed to rest for a minute.
She wanted to snap that her bed was off limits to him. She’d offered it once. He turned her down. Humiliated her. Made her feel like she was two inches high and the ugliest girl to ever grace the planet. He made her feel like there was something wrong with her. She still hated him for it.
Ross ended up walking through the house, holding that stupid tea towel, straight to her bedroom. Of course, he did. He still had the grace and athletic bearing of the star quarterback he’d been back in high school. He propped up the pillows of the bed she hadn’t slept in since Christmas break, her bed, her damn bed, and sprawled out.
Alix was glad there were a few other people buzzing around the room. Her mom rushed off to go get god knew what. Her dad hovered behind her. Finally, her brother made an appearance and everyone else found something else to do now that the drama was safely in hand.
While Chance joked with Ross about bringing his matching date to the party and then getting decked by her, Alix pretended like she could blend into the wall. She wished she could unsee Ross’s huge form sprawled across her twin sized bed. Taking up the whole thing. Owning it like he belonged there. Like he’d always belonged there. She tried to banish thoughts of how she’d grip those pillows later, turn her face into the case, and try and inhale whatever scent of his clung to them. Of course, there likely wouldn’t be any, given that he smelled like pool and not much else and her bed was going to be soaking so of course she’d have to change the sheets after.