Let Me Love Him

III.

Johnny roughly pushes someone of the footballers away from the door and shuts it back, noticing another making out couple there. Dan even tries to say something rude back to him, but as soon as he sees Johnny's glance, he immediately goes silent.

Fortunately, after another three rooms, he finally manages to find a suitable, empty one and abruptly closes the door literally in the face of another couple. Johnny locks it up so that no one could come in and so he could take a break from all these people here: at least try to regain his normal mood, because the thoughts in his head are becoming like a living hell. He is angry with himself for not being able to control his own emotions. Because he is pretty hot-tempered and sometimes aggressive. Alcohol only makes him worry more, and the fragile silence of the room begins to put pressure on his temples gradually. Such a terrible feeling. Something black and gloomy grows inside. Johnny couldn't care less about all those prohibitions, so he decides to smoke right here. Or maybe go to the balcony. There is cool spring air, he should feel better. Probably, he'll be able to think straight. Everything will no longer be boiled down to one single person.

Johnny steps over the threshold of the balcony, flicking his lighter, but then he hears genuinely indignant:

"What are you doing here?"

A high pitched voice makes him stop. The look of his hazel eyes falls on beige high-heeled shoes, rises to a blue skirt that doesn't even close sharp knees, to a white blouse and a silk scarf. Johnny looks at Pinky Gauthier sitting on the marble balcony's railing. She holds a glass of cocktail in her hands. Long legs gracefully sway to the beat of quite music. Her gaze doesn't seem hostile somehow, as it usually happens when they encounter each other. Especially after this Gord situation.

"Actually, I asked you a question, greaseball."

"Ouch," Johnny walks to the balcony, ignoring her and exhaling cigarette smoke. "What are you doing here without your funny friends?"

"My friends are not your concern. You came here and now I have to smell this disgusting cigarette smoke."

"Well, find another room then. It'd be really cool if you went to this stuck-up party of Derby's," he dismissively calls this name. Cigarette ash falls somewhere down. "Jeez, even here you act like everyone owes you."

There's no response. Johnny glances at Pinky a few more times. In fact, he rarely looked at her in class if they met. Her cheerful laugh, emotions in her eyes, how she moves elegantly — it all seems so right, almost perfect, but... so fake. Her every gesture, every spoken word feels strange, distant. It looks like crystal, which at any moment can break and hurt painfully.

Pinky takes a sip, looks up at him, and her bluish eyes don't get sharp. There is indifference, mixed with the cold.

"I will not go to Derby."

Johnny turns to her silently. He notices another empty glass on the floor. A rather sad picture.

"I won't go to him," she repeats, practically spells it. Too harsh for a girl with manners.

Pinky takes another sip, holding on to the railing with one hand and swaying slightly. If she leaned back further, she would surely fall.

"What's it to me?"

"Maybe nothing. But I know, you are in the same situation, when you consider a person perfect, when everyone tells you about it and you already begin to believe it, but then these dreams are just broken."

"Haven't been in such situation"

"But you're dating her, and..."

"Dated," Johnny interrupts the girl at just one glance.