Benevolence

Chapter 6: Symmetry

The party is in full swing by the time we pull into the cabin's driveway. The heavy earth-shattering thump of music can be heard, even from within the vicinity of the car, and a strawberry blonde in a nude tube dress can already be spotted puking her guts out somewhere in the bushes.

"Gross."

"That's bout to be you in two hours," Drew retorts.

"You sure about that? I'm certain I learned my lesson the first time..." I shoot a wink his way, but the smirk slides off of his face. "...Too soon?" I ask.

"Yeah, you pushin' it."

When Bryan mentioned a cabin party, I pictured a small one— nice and cozy, in which only a select few would get invited to. But this... this modern-day castle staring back at me is far fetched. It's a cabin all right, but it's huge.

Drew cranes his head from the passenger seat to get a better look at it, his eyebrows rising in astonishment. "I'm definitely not used to this shit," he mutters.

"You're not the only one..." I say, driving down an almost full lane of cars.

I should have expected it. I mean, Simon's parties are the only ones to bring us all together, so it was only sensible for them to secure a large— and very extravagant event space. Students of all grades are here: undergraduates and graduates combined. And unlike the frat and sorority parties that are infamous for their guest lists and straight-line demographics, his parties are a direct reflection of him. Everything down to his mixes caters to everyone, regardless of their race, class, religion, or sexual orientation. And I can't help but feel grateful towards him for being so inclusive, for creating a space where no one is judged or ridiculed for being themselves.

The music seems to be reverberating throughout the seats of my car, and so it doesn't take long for me to catch on to the melody. I'm swaying behind the wheel, my feet tapping against the breaks as I back up into a parking space. And in doing so, I don't miss out on the softness in Drew's eyes as he follows my every move.

This is something new to us: to be out together— sober— around familiar faces. And it feels so good, for the best kind of euphoria comes in being present.

"What're you staring at?" I tease, finally putting the car in park.

"You," he answers a bit distractedly, his gaze faltering down to my lips.

The way his eyes glide over my skin, and his lips tilt up just the slightest bit at the sight of me--as if he's imagining all sorts of crass things in his mind— it makes my cheeks warm. And he'll never not have that effect on me. "...Why don't you take a picture then?" I answer smartly.

He chuckles, leaning back against the headrest. "Don't play with me, Alaina."

"Who said anything about playing?" I utter, pulling down the visor above my head. "This is real life."

"And you're real-life beautiful," he praises.

"Aww, Drew. You're so--Oh come. On. it's only been an hour," I say, now noticing my reflection in the mirror. I knew I should've left my hair how it was.

"Here you go..." he says disapprovingly.

"What?" I ask, raking my fingers through the thick unruly strands of hair. "A lot of work's been put into this, okay? So I have a right to be a little apprehensive."

"You spent hours straightenin' your hair, Lay. And yeah, it looks nice like that, but you're gorgeous when it's natural too."

I try to sneak another glance at myself when a hand slams down on the visor. He cups my chin, a determined look illuminating his face. "How bout we enjoy this while it lasts..."--He tucks a loose strand behind my ear--"And if it starts to frizz, I'll fluff it out for you-- just like you taught me," he says.