Never Summer Again

Chapter Sixteen - The Wrong Kind of Goodbye

Score: Not Over Yet - KSI, Tom Grennan

Lydia

Mark opens his mouth, as if to say something, but I press my finger against his lips, silencing him.

I can hear voices outside now. People are headed back to the house. The game is over and it is officially Gloria's birthday.

I push past him and open the door of the greenhouse. I can't see a thing in the darkness outside, apart from the yellowish windows of the house, looking down at the garden with judgment. But the voices and laughter are getting louder, and are coming from the direction of the house.

I step into the dark garden and head for the house, following the voices and the light, coming through the lit-up windows.

I walk fast, almost breaking into a run, trying to put as much distance between Mark and me as possible.

No matter how hard I try to run away from him, though, I know it is useless. His smell is lingering on my skin, my hair smells like his cologne and the sensation of his hand touching me under my dress, while his mouth was connected to the skin of my neck is burned inside of my brain.

No running away from that.

Damn, he has gotten deep under my skin. How did I let this happen? Am I blind? Dumb? Mad?

I need to get away from him. I need to stay away from him, and I need to make sure I follow through.

I walk into the house and head straight for the kitchen, where most of the noise is coming from. I pass the living room on my way, where I can see just a few boys now. Apparently, the match is over now, as well.

I walk into the kitchen and see Gloria, Liam, Alex, and Nate, already taking shots on the marble bar top, which is surrounded by at least ten more people. I take a deep breath, pull my hair over my shoulder again, and join them.

"Lydiaaaa, where the hell have you been?" Gloria slurs, clearly tipsy, while pouring something red into shot glasses. More people are now coming in through the door. I turn around to see Greg and Anita sipping wine in the doorway. The way Greg is looking at me is making me so uncomfortable, I wish for the earth to split open and swallow me.

"What do you mean? Isn't the whole point of this game not to be found and caught?" I say a little too defensively.

"Yes, we were playing, too, you know?" Liam says, tipping his head back, swallowing a  shot.

"And I win!" Alex says, fanning the five cards in her hand. "So far, no one's got more than five." She waves the tags above her head and people join us to take their shots.
Gloria has already poured more than thirty glasses, and everyone's drinking, regardless if they lost or won.

That's the greatest part about playing Drinking Tag. In the end, everyone ends up pissed.

I feel him before I see him. I feel his presence, filling up the room, even though there are more than twenty people in the kitchen now. I know he is behind my back and I can feel his gaze burning on the nape of my head.

"Actually," Mark's voice comes from behind me. "I win".

I turn around and see that he has all of my cards, along with the one with my name, in his hand. My hand flies up to my neck on instinct, searching for my card, but, of course, it is not there. I must have dropped them in the greenhouse.

Damnit!

Everyone cheers him, and more and more people gather around the bar to take shots.

Alex mumbles something about "not fair", but the judge, aka Gloria, has spoken. Mark has nine tags and Alex has only five.