Social Suicide

T E N : Kiss Of Death

SOCIAL SOLITUDE: ARISTELLE
Monday, October 22 2018
Hours few by. The sun would be starting to set soon. I had plans to meet up with a couple friends at a bowling alley in the next town over. They'd be expecting me within the hour. I'm rarely ever late to anything.
"So where is everyone?" I wondered idly, noticing the fraternity was still gone.
We were sitting on the small ottoman at the end of Spencer's bed, my legs dangling over his lap as I laid back against the frame.
"This place is usually empty until midnight. They're probably at the bar, or on the field, or hooking up with someone."
I met his eyes for a moment without lifting my head. He smirked at me before resuming his stare at his bookcase.
That was my cue. "Hmm. Speaking of, I should get going."
"Speaking of hooking up with someone?" He chuckled.
"Speaking of the bar. I'm supposed to join some friends at Zoltan's Tavern for a game."
Spencer raised an eyebrow. "You bowl?"
I made a face. "Not usually. I'm making an exception."
"For anyone I know?"
I thought for a moment as I slipped on my Converse. "Not sure about anyone else, but I'm pretty sure you know Lucian and Zander."
"Luci's gonna be there?" He stood, a wide grin on his face. He rubbed his hands together with excitement. "Then I'm definitely crashing the party."
"'Luci'?" I snickered.
"I'm the only one allowed to call him that. We've known each other since sixth grade."
"Then why didn't he invite you?"
Spencer shrugged. "Probably because he knows I don't bowl, either. I like pool, though." We descended the stairs together. "Do you want to ride with me or should I drop you off to get your car?"
"With you works. I can ride back home with Molly."
He opened his passenger door for me like he did last night. I thanked him hesitantly, still unsure what his motives were.
It was a quiet thirty-minute ride. Spencer parked next to Lucian's car and we walked inside together.
"Is it two tonight?" a guy behind the counter asked.
I shook my head. "Jackson party for eight o'clock." Zander was the one who invited Molly and I, so I assumed it was under his name.
"Lane twelve. The shoe counter is across from it."
Spencer's rings tapped on the counter. "Thanks."
Molly noticed me and stood from a bar stool, but froze when she saw who I walked in with. She looped her arm around mine. "Were you with him all day?"
"I might have been." I lowered my eyes and changed the subject. "So who else is coming?"
"Ask him." She pointed to someone behind me.
Zander was walking toward us from the bathrooms. He maneuvered around Spencer to get to me. I wrapped my arms around him.
"Zan," I greeted him.
"Hey, Ari."
I opened my eyes over his shoulder and saw Spencer glaring at us. I kept my voice cheery. "Thanks for inviting us."
"Sure thing."
"How many others are on the way?"
"Seven, I think. Eight, if you count Lucian. He's in the bathroom."
I nodded thoughtfully and turned back to Molly. "Did you know he was going to be here?"
She shook her head. "It should be fine. We're here to have fun, right?"
"Right." I wrapped an arm around her. "Are we doing teams?"
"Yeah, split down the middle." Zander sat on the barstool next to Molls, hooked his legs around me, and pulled me close. "You're on mine."
"Do I get a say?" I asked, eyebrows raised but still letting it happen.
"Oh, come on. You know you'd be on the winning team."
"I don't know about that. Not if she's on it." Molly laughed.
I rolled my eyes. "I'm not that bad. But I wasn't even planning on doing more than drink and watch."
"Well now that you brought a tagalong, that makes it twelve—six per team. You'll be doing more than sitting here and looking pretty." He winked.
When I turned around, Spencer was burning a hole in the back of my head. I patted Zander's knees so he would free me.
"You all right?" I asked Spence.
He shrugged. Something changed in his eyes, in the way he was looking at me. This arbitrary behavior was starting to piss me off.
I was grateful when I saw Lucian heading toward us. I jutted my chin at him and Spencer followed my gaze. And again his demeanor flipped completely.
"What's his problem?" Molly asked me.
I stood next to her again and shook my head. "Who knows?"
Everyone else arrived within the next fifteen minutes. Our team consisted of me, Zander, Molly, Caspian Briarwood—a girl I knew from my Communications class—Damon Dixon, and Sebastian Vincent—two of Zan's best friends. The opposing team had Spencer, Lucian, Bailey Zinsser, Benjamin Blake—two members of the baseball team—Joe Kostan, and Kelso Grimes—two members of the football team. A wild variety of people, but we seemed to play well together.
I rarely took time to hang out with friends, not accounting for Molly and Elijah. Zander and I predominantly socialized at games and frat parties. My other teammates and I only ever saw each other on the field. It was a nice change, but a tad overstimulating.
"Can I grab you a drink?" Caspian asked Molly. Her gaze lingered for a moment, her light green eyes sparkling.
Mol blushed. "Please. Daiquiri with Bacardi."
Cas flipped her auburn hair over her shoulder as she sauntered toward the bar. As she left our little area, I caught Lucian staring at Molly.
From the way he spoke of her on the field yesterday morning and the way his eyes lingered on her now, I'd say he had a thing for her.
I chuckled when Cassie came back and handed Molly her drink. Looks like she has some competition.
I wasn't too confident about either one of them. It was too soon. Molly still had Tyler on her mind. They were together for more than three years. It would take a lot more than three days to heal.
Breakups were even harder when the cause of them are yourself. I knew the feeling.
"Who's up?" Damon asked.
Bailey checked the board in front of him and Spencer pointed to a name on the screen. "Avery!"
I cringed internally. "Do I have to?"
"Come on, love." He held his hand out. "Let's see how bad you really are."
I stared at his reaching hand with scrunched eyebrows. "I don't wanna."
"Maybe we should ask for the gate to be put up," Molly suggested playfully.
My jaw dropped. "Hey!"
Everyone laughed. I snagged Spencer's hand so he could pull me up from the chair. I grabbed the ball closest to me and tried to find the angle I wanted. Thankfully, my aim had improved since I started playing baseball.
I let it go with a decent amount of force—around nine miles per hour, according to the screen. It curved around toward the end and hit the one standing right behind the headpin. All but the three corners went down.
Our team whooped and Molly held a shocked but proud expression on her face. I was pleasantly surprised at myself, too. My smile faltered for a fraction of a second when I only got two of the remaining pins to fall, but I was having fun nonetheless.
It was was the opposing team's turn. "Spence." I gestured for him to grab the next one.
To no one's surprise, he rolled a strike. I scoffed. What can't he do?
Nearing the end of our game, our team was losing by a hairline. I was the last one to play, so I was fairly confident it would stay that way.
Zander held onto my shoulders from behind after I grabbed my ball again. "One strike and we win. You got this, man."
"Thanks. No pressure."
"No." He raised his eyebrows. "Pressure." The feign seriousness laced in his voice disappeared and he gave me an encouraging grin, making his lip ring bob in place. He patted my shoulder and stepped away so I could get in position.
The lane stretched out ahead of me. After taking a deep breath, I shrugged. He was right, I had this.
I released the ball toward the right side to mimic my first roll, but instead flicked my wrist harder at the end this time. The ball curved in the middle and collided with the headpin. The group was quiet for a brief moment and then erupted in cheers when all ten pins dropped. Zander engulfed me and lifted my small frame off the ground. It was rare that I let anyone touch me so much, but for some reason—because it was him—I didn't mind.
I leaned over to see Molly and Caspian jump in place. Damon and Sebastian were behind them, raising up the hands they were holding in victory.
I regretted looking around further. Spencer turned to engage in conversation with Lucian, but not before I saw him give me—or, me and Zander—the evil eye.
"Is it too late to go out and get pizza or something to celebrate?" Sebastian asked us.
"What time is it?" Mol wondered.
I slid my phone out of my back pocket and the lock screen lit up. "Eleven-thirty on the dot. I don't know, I think I'll take a rain check. I have something early tomorrow," I shared with regret.
"Do you mind if I go?" Molly asked me. "I don't have class tomorrow."
"Of course I don't mind." I kissed her cheek. "I'll call an Uber. Have fun, guys."
A deep voice cut in behind me. "I can give you a ri—"
"Hang on, Avery," Spencer cut Zander off. He shook Lucian's forearm and walked over to me. "I drove you here. Least I could do is take you back." He gave a brief but pointed look at Zan over my shoulder.
I didn't know how to react to this whole Alpha-male thing he had going on. What did it mean?
I let out a breath. "Might as well. My stuff is still at your place." I faced Zan with a small smile. "I'll see you at practice?"
His response was warm. Spencer's demeanor didn't phase him. "You got it."
Spence led me back out to his car. Once we got inside, I felt the air around us shift. He grinned at himself as he turned his radio on. In an instant, he was back to the guy I was with earlier. Carefree, charming, playful.
"What's up with you tonight?" I finally demanded.
"What do you mean?" he asked, completely oblivious.
"You've had an attitude the entire game and suddenly you're back to being—"
"Attitude?" His eyebrows pulled together.
"You're kidding. You're telling me it wasn't on purpose?"
He turned into his driveway. "Still have no idea what you're talking about."
"Whatever you say. Thanks for taking me back to get my stuff."
Spencer shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the rack behind the front door. "You can stay over again, if you'd like." He could see I was about to protest and gave me a gleaming smile. "I won't keep you up all night this time, you have my word. I'll drive you home whenever you want to go."
Part of me wanted to stand my ground and tell him no.
I couldn't tell which side of Spencer was real. The version of him I saw tonight was the same person I knew and despised from the moment I met him. The few instances I've known him to be kind were behind closed doors or around people who would adhere to his every whim.
Yet despite that, another part of me was drawn to him. It's like I knew I needed him, but I wasn't sure what for.
There was a vulnerability held inside the deepest pit of my soul few people could touch. With the exception of family, two other people in my life have ever had the power to wield it.
The first was my childhood friend, Mercury. The second was Zander—it took me a long time to figure that one out. And now it looked like Holden Spencer was going to be the third.
He's everything I can't control. He's too unpredictable, unreliable, dangerous. His personality changes at the drop of a hat. One second he makes me feel like I'm flying and the next he makes me feel like I'm falling, pushed by his own hand.
If you're stuck at a crossroads, which path do you take? When you're lost, do you make the safe choice, the one you know is right?
I could follow my crystal clear instincts and walk away. I could forget everything we had.
Do you fight the compulsions and hope it goes away? Or do you just give up entirely and let it kill you?
The heart, or the head?
I knew I would regret my choice.
"Okay."

Spencer and I were laying atop the comforter on his bed, under near total darkness with the door open. His flat screen was on a low volume. For a fraternity, it was shockingly quiet.
"What is this?"
I looked down to see what he meant. His finger was tracing over the bump of my scar on my lower left shoulder. I flinched, sitting upright.
"Bullet fragment," I revealed bluntly without thinking, standing up and heading down to the kitchen.
He was silent for a few seconds before jumping out of bed and running after me. "A what?!"
I waved him off. "Don't worry about it."
"You've been shot?! When?!"
The pace of my heartbeat accelerated and my lungs felt frozen. It took everything I had in me to take a deep breath. I felt the small piece of metal vibrate over my pulse.
"I was fifteen."
"By who? Why? What happened?"
I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against the cold steel of his refrigerator, feeling the need to throw up.
Fuck it. Molly was wrong. I wasn't telling him anything. "The person who did it is dead. It's in the past. I don't wanna talk about it."
I pulled out an ice-cold water, offering him one. He didn't move to grab it. Instead, he just stared at me with a horrified expression. Putting the second bottle back, I slammed the door shut and edged passed him.
Retreating to the staircase, I went straight through the hall to his bedroom.
This was why I didn't think I was ready to tell him. I knew he would overreact. Not even Molly knew every detail about what went down, and she experienced it with me.
It was too much. I only spent a handful of months with my father, and I still have nightmares from it all. I never even went to a psychiatrist. Not that therapy was even an option for me.
I officially moved in with Molly and her family after I got out of the hospital because I didn't want to be alone. My mom was gone and I decided the money from her life insurance would be for college. It took six months to start getting those payments, and I was forced to use a third of the first two for my physical therapy. There was no way I was going to waste any more of it on fixing my irreparable mental state before I got an education.
Life was expensive. The yearly tuition here was about forty grand, so I needed what I had at the time.
I felt the air shift as the door opened behind me. I was fumbling inside my bag, making sure I had everything with me before I left.
"Aristelle," he whispered.
My tone was void of emotion. "What?"
"Don't shut me out."
"That's not what I'm doing," I told him.
He inched his way toward me. "Really?"
I finally turned to face him. "You're wrong. I'm not shutting you out."
He tilted his head.
"I'm not!" I insisted. "You haven't earned the right to hear my whole life story. Especially not the worst part of it."
He sat on his bed while I went to his bathroom to change my clothes. When I rejoined him, he had a puzzled look on his face.
"You lied."
My eyebrows shot up. "I what?"
"You told me you didn't grow up with a father."
"Because I didn't," I affirmed. "I only knew him for five months."
"You went looking for him?"
"No. He was looking for my mother. He found me instead."
"Oh."
I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eyes. "Trust me. You don't wanna know what happened... You'd never look at me the same."
He stood quickly, stepping toward me with his arms raised in reassurance. "That's not true."
"Don't," I begged him, backing into the wall. "I should go."
His eyes widened. "What? Don't—"
"Really, Spencer. Before this gets to be too hard for both of us."
"It's too late for that. I care about you."
I shook my head vigorously. "You say that now. You wouldn't after I told you everything."
"You can't know that. Just give me a chance to—"
"If you care about me, you'll let me go. I'm not ready to tell you. I wouldn't know if I were ready until after I got attached to you. And I can't do that," I whispered, tears forming. If I got attached to him, and he found out... I wouldn't be able to handle it if he left.
The hot saltwater ran down my cheeks, our eyes still locked for several moments.
"You have to stop thinking that everybody is going to leave you."
His kind words reminded me of Molly's from before. You can't keep letting it destroy you like this.
"It's not that simple," I told him anyway.
"It could be."
His bright green eyes were mesmerizing, drowning everything in sight. And no matter how much I tried to resist, they just kept pulling me back under.
He broke the connection, letting his eyes drift down to my lips.
My back was still against the wall and he stood in front of me now, almost touching. As if he read my mind, he glided his thumb against my bottom lip before licking his own.
That did it.
I quickly closed the space between us and planted my mouth on his. His slow hands traveled up my sides to my neck, torturing me. I wound my fingers in his chorus of curls and pulled, earning a deep moan from him.
Spencer took a step back, taking me with him. He sat on the mattress, making it easier for me to reach him. I straddled his waist and trailed my hands down his chest and back up under his shirt. Our kisses were so rough, it felt as if it would bruise. As soon as the butterflies in my stomach felt like they were about to erupt, I pulled away.
I took a deep breath, staring into his eyes, somehow thinking it would give me the answer I needed.
"I can't," I finally decided, standing. "And if you can't go without an explanation, then I'm not it for you."
He smiled at me before speaking. "You were right before. I haven't earned it. But I will."