A Little Bit of Hope

Chapter 6

I stayed up late that night, sitting on the couch and biting my fingernails. I pretended to be asleep when Tina came in. I just wanted to think. Or not to think, I couldn't decide which. Whichever it was, the same thought kept buzzing around in my head. Ian kissed me. A dozen different ways of saying it, a dozen bouts of confusion. Ian kissed me. Ian kissed me. And the ever-present feeling of excitement in the pit of my stomach. Ian kissed me!

I was torn completely in half. I was immensely relieved that he wasn't mad at me, but on the other hand, maybe he was just being protective and got caught up in the moment. Maybe he already regretted it.

My heart sank at the thought, in my mind a surprising reaction. I wasn't going to get involved with him, or so went the plan. But when I asked myself plainly if I hadn't liked the feel of his mouth on mine, the answer was a resounding yes, I most certainly had.

My eyelids drooped against my will, the adrenaline finally easing up. As I closed my eyes, I caught a glimpse of Ian standing on the stairs.

And so went the plan right out the figurative window.

I woke up the next morning dazed, confused, and in my own room. I sat up dizzily. Man, I was a lightweight if a few sips of a cocktail could leave me with a hangover. I went into the bathroom to wash out my mouth, and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Ew. My lipstick was smeared up over my cheek, and my mascara had made itself known in the form of two huge black circles around my eyes. I definitely would not be wearing this much makeup ever again.

I let down my hair, slipped out of my wrinkled dress, and stepped into the shower. All of a sudden, what had happened at the club rushed to the surface of my memory. I made the water as hot as I could stand and let it pour over me. It wasn't enough to make me feel clean, even after I scrubbed of whatever grime had collected on my skin, and then gone ahead and scrubbed off at least three layers of skin.

I shut the off the water, still feeling disgusting. I wrapped myself in a towel and went back into my room. I went to my closet to get dressed when I saw some of my old clothes peeking out from a drawer where I'd stashed them a week ago. Hateful bile rose in my throat. I tore the clothes out of the drawer and held them tightly in my fist. The life they represented would never leave, because it was my life. Not this cozy mansion in the woods. I fished my phone out. I was about to do something reckless and stupid, but I didn't care. I stabbed in James' number. If he doesn't pick up his damn phone....

James answered on the third ring. "Hey, where've you been?" he slurred. Drunk, as usual.

I forced the words out before I could change my mind. "James, come pick me up."

He was sober enough to understand, and to remember the address I gave him. Him getting here was a different matter. Thankfully he arrived in one piece, and I ran out in my shortest skirt and my tightest shirt. I climbed into his beat up old Chevy while he gawked at the house.

"Damn, I oughta be more involved in your career," he remarked. He must have had some coffee since I'd called him, because he spoke much more clearly. "You move on to banging millionaires now?"

I ignored him. "I wanna go to a party," I declared. "One of those big ones you always go to."

As soon as James turned to me, he couldn't take his eyes off my chest. "You uh- you sure baby? Those ones get pretty rough sometimes."

I leaned over and kissed him seductively, eliciting a low moan. "You think I can't handle myself?" I said sulkily. "I'm a big girl now, remember?" I twined my fingers in his hair and crawled into his lap.

He grabbed my ass, then set me roughly in the passenger seat. "Fine baby, my buddy Ryan's throwing a party right now."

When we got to the party, music and people flooded out of the old house. I got out of the car and dragged James behind me. Someone handed me a beer and I slammed it back, needing the bitterness and fire in my throat. A heavy fuzz settled over my mind.

I lost track of what happened afterwards, save a few moments of clarity. James pulling me over to the makeshift dance floor. Lots of guys. Lots of beer. Sirens. Lots of puking into a metal toilet in a jail cell. And then Ian helping me up, nodding to the officer, and helping me gently into his car.

When I finally came to, I was home again, I knew that much, but why was I in Ian's room? In his bed? Wait... had I... slept with him? I glanced down. No, I was still in the clothes I'd worn last night. At least he wasn't a stupid slut like me. One of us needed to keep our heads. Then it hit me. Last night I'd been insanely drunk, hadn't I?

I jumped out of the bed, and sat down quickly as a wave of nausea rolled over me. Yup, I'd been totally wasted.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Why did I have to ruin everything? I shouldn't have even called James in the first place.

I gasped as the memories flooded back. James. The party, the beer, and... Shit. I went to jail. Ian... Ian.

Just then Ian walked in, hair wet, a glass of water in his hand. I ducked my head and stared at my feet in shame. My face burned. Without a word, he set the glass down on the nightstand and sat beside me. Several seconds passed in silence, each feeling like a lifetime.

Finally Ian spoke. "Why?" he whispered. His voice was so mournful that I winced. "Why would you do that to me?"

"Ian, I didn't-"

"And with him?"

I shot him a sideways glance, and immediately wished I hadn't. The level of hurt in his deep blue eyes left a painful twinge in my chest.

"I'm sorry."

He propelled himself roughly off the bed and turned to face me. I refused to meet his piercing gaze, but I could feel the bitter anger radiating off him.

"Sorry!?" he cried. "I try to show you just how much I care for you, you go get plastered at a party with your ex-boyfriend, and you're sorry?"

I felt something like rage stir within me, and I jumped up. "Yes!" I yell at him. "I'm sorry. I finally decided to hell with right and proper, I like this guy, and maybe we can be more than friends, but no! Some asshole from a life I left behind shows up out of nowhere and makes me feel like shit, 'cause guess what? I can never get away from that life!!"

I screamed the last bit as forcefully as my throat could stand, and Ian flinched as if he'd been slapped.

"So yeah," I finished. "Yeah, I am sorry. I'm sorry for running back to reality, and I'm sorry for ever thinking I could be better than I was. Because you know what?" I marched over to the door. "I'm not."

My headache pounding, I moved to close the door firmly behind me, but Ian crossed over and held it open. I tried to glare at him, but faltered at his apologetic expression.

"Please don't go," he mumbled. "I- I need you."

Most of the anger in my body had been extinguished by my outburst, but the few shreds that were left fled at that moment. I'd been told I was wanted, that I was enjoyed, and other, harsher things, but no one had ever told me I was needed. Needed meant that I was a necessary part of his life. Needed meant that I belonged here.

I stepped forward, my heart pounding, putting my face just inches from his.

"Say it again," I whispered, hardly daring to breathe.

I gazed into his eyes. They burned with sincerity. "I need you."

I moved a few centimeters closer. "Close your eyes," I commanded softly. Ian hesitated, before doing as I asked.

This was it. I could either walk away, or...

But there was really only one option. I closed my eyes and kissed him.

His lips were soft against mine, and I felt him slip his arms around me. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, drawing the kiss deeper. When we finally pulled apart, our breath was ragged.

"Well, should I take a picture, or should this stay off the record?"

Ian released me but took my hand as we turned towards Tina. The other girl was smiling so wide that I thought her face would shatter. I blushed, but I couldn't stop a giddy smile from spreading across my face. I gazed up at Ian's face and saw that he had the same happy expression.

I already knew that this feeling wouldn't last forever. But man, it felt pretty damn good while it lasted.