The Brown Eyed Boy

Chapter 3

I stepped back and stared directly into his eyes. Holy shit. What just happened? My whole body was shot with shivers. Even the tips of my fingers were tingling.

The same sly smile occupied his lips once again as he leaned towards me. "Now, let's go find a quiet place where we can talk," he pressed his cheek to mine, mouthing the words into my ear.

He grabbed my arm and began weaving through the crowd of people. I followed him, still in shock. I don't think my mind had processed what had just happened. I didn't even know the guy; we had only spoken for the first time just hours ago. All I knew about this boy was that his name was Jesse. And that he was the most popular guy in school. And that his eyes were hypnotic.

We finally found an unoccupied room on the main floor. This Ryder kid had a huge house. Speaking of Ryder, I hadn't seen him at all tonight. Actually, I may have seen him, but I wouldn't know because I had no idea what he looked like.

There was nothing in the room other than a long couch with a coffee table in front of it. Well, actually, there was also a flatscreen tv hitched onto the wall, and about a dozen empty beer cans sprawled across the floor.

Jesse sat down in the middle of the couch, and patted the seat signaling for me to sit down. I did as his actions suggested, but at the end of the couch. I was about to pull my knees up to my chest and sit in somewhat of a fetal position - that's just how my awkward self liked to sit on couches - until I remembered that I was wearing a short, tight dress. Groaning quietly to myself at the way I was forced to sit, I crossed one leg over the other and directed my attention back to Jesse.

Jesse inched towards me, but stopped when he was about a foot away from me. He probably saw my expression, because I'm guessing I looked pretty terrified.

"So, Desiree," he grinned.

"Desi," I corrected, "I prefer Desi."

"Right, okay, Desi," he fumbled his words. "You're not from around here, are you?" I knew he already knew the answer. He hung out with some of the guys that Blake did, so I'm guessing he was one of Blake's buddies.

"Yeah," I replied shyly, "Seattle." I was slowly getting lost in his eyes again.

"Cool," he laughed. I wasn't sure whether to laugh along with him, or to continue sitting there like a paranoid child. I chose the paranoid child thing. I guess it was out of habit for me to look awkward and antisocial and weird.

My mind was still a bit fuzzy. I'm not sure if it was from the vodka, or because of my anxiety of being this close to an attractive stranger who had just kissed me. Probably both.

"How old are you?" he grinned, lashing his row of perfect teeth.

"Sixteen, I'm a junior next year," I managed to mumble. He looked down at me, since I was a lot shorter. I still kept my distance between me and him by at least a foot.

"I'm seventeen," he spoke after looking me up and down for the billionth time tonight, "soon to be senior." A smile tugged upwards on the left corner of his lips. So he was the same age as Blake. I wonder if they were friends.

"Do you know my brother?" I asked without even thinking. He turned to me, his eyes locked onto mine with confusion, as his eyebrows furrowed together.

"Name?" he asked in a stern voice.

"Blake Finch," I squeaked.

Jesse looked away, his jaw clenching and unclenching itself in a frustrated manner. I'm not sure what was wrong, but his smile fell to a dark expression. Those beaming brown eyes were shot cold. Dropping his head down, he finally spoke up once again. "Yeah," he spat. "Yeah, I know a Blake Finch." He cocked his head to face me, still slumped over on the couch. 'Why?" he questioned, a little harsher than he'd intended.