The Cascading Waves of Caden Lee

18

SCARLETT PARKER

As soon as I arrived to the party Leah greets me with a hug. I can smell the alcohol on her breath, typical for Leah to be wasted at only 11 pm, but I laugh anyway and squeezed her just as tightly.

I don't want to look too eager, so I talk a little along my friends first, discreetly glancing around the room to see if I catch sight of brown hair and tanned skin. I'm not worried about him being a no-show. I mean, he's the one who invited me in the first place, isn't he? Eventually Katie,  Leah's girlfriend, follows me to the kitchen to grab drinks. Leah would normally come, but I'm pretty sure she can't walk without tripping.

I grab a solo cup and pour two shots, or, what I think is two shots just by looking. I would normally be downing shots by now, but knowing Cade is around stops me. I have to take it slow, be confident enough around him but not a total mess.

The Tito's mixed with cranberry juice burns my throat as I take a long gulp, leaving me to shake my head with a grimace as the warmth slides down my throat and settles in my stomach. Katie only grabs a vodka soda, she's never been one to drink. Her and Leah are polar opposites, but I guess that's what makes them work so well. Opposites attract, as they say.

A group of rowdy guys start to crowd the cooler filled with beers to our right, so we shove them aside as we try to make our way back to Leah. She's sitting on the coach, and then I notice the very person I've been looking for all night, Caden. Him and Leah are in conversation, and I can easily tell he's drunk too by his drooping eyes and loose body movements.

I'm not too surprised, it's a party, after all.

Sitting down, Katie throws an arm around Leah's shoulders and she leans into her, resting her head on her shoulder. Her blond hair is frizzy and messy, and her lipstick is smudged slightly. That doesn't stop Katie from leaning over and kissing the top of her head, though.

"Hi," I smile at Cade, "when'd you get here?" He smiles loosely back at me, sitting up from his slumped position and moving to face me. "About two hours ago," he says, "I saw you come in. Wasn't sure to say hi or not."

His breath doesn't reek of alcohol too much, which is weird because he has a clear stumble to his words, but I don't comment. Instead I laugh, "It would've been fine either way. I'm here now, aren't I?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, a weird look in his eyes, "you are..."

I look away, breaking eye contact, "where are your friends?"

"I'm not sure, maybe I should go check on them..."

I sit up, offering Caden my hand and pulling him to his feet as I say, "here, I'll come with you."

Twenty minutes later we spot his two friends, a short boy with blond hair and a taller one with dark skin and the sides of his head shaved short, yet wild dark curls sprouting from the top. They immediately begin to make their way towards us, the shorter one shouting over the rumbling bass, "Where have you been, shithead?! We were worried!"

Caden starts to fumble for a response, so I fill in for him, "Just on the couch talking with my friend, Leah. You know her?" The two glance at each other, smirking just slightly as the taller responds, "Yeah, we do. You guys been talking also?"

I nod, "just a little. Do you want him back?" I internally cringe at that sentence, I made it sound like he's a puppy dog that's away from his owner.

The two immediately start shaking their heads, starting to back away as they both stammer some garbled response of, "no, no, we'll be fine. Have fun!" I laugh a little, sharing a glance with Caden as he seems to stand straighter and faces me.

"Wanna dance?"

My heart nearly beats out of my chest as I process his sentence, my hands growing clammy which I'm sure he feels with his hand in mine.

"Yeah, yeah sure!" I attempt to smile through the nervousness. He grips my hand tighter as he drags me to the cluster of drunk, dancing teenagers. I down my cup on the way, leaving it on some random trash-filled table on the way. I'm gonna need some courage for this.

Time seems to blur as we both just let go. Flying limbs moving so freely just for tonight. At one point, he raises my hand above my head and twirls me. It takes me back, but I can't look away fast enough to cover the blooming pink spreading on my cheeks.

He's more loose than I've ever seen him, relaxed and laidback in a way that almost makes me jealous. I wonder how much he's had to drink. But I push that thought away, and he asks me if he can dance with me instead of just dance, and I let him because the burn of his touch on my waist is almost addictive. And when we separate to go get another drink I find that I almost miss it. His touch.