Different | Grayson Dolan

>22<

Grayson's POV

I stare at the clothes in my closet, trying to decide what would look best.

Ethan seems to come in not too long after. He has a short sleeved flannel that's predominantly unbuttoned.

"What do I wear?" I ask.

Ethan chuckles. "Okay so...." He starts, walking to my closet. He shuffles around my clothes. "Wear this...." He says, picking out a muscle tee from our Princeton wrestling team. He also picks out a pair of ripped jeans that he throws at my chest.

After he leaves, I quickly put them on and get to his room. Ethan is styling his hair in his mirror. He turns around when he notices me. "Good?" He asks.

I put my thumbs up. "Good."

"We're fucking late...." Ethan says, grabbing his keys. "You better be ready to take shots...."

"Whaddya mean?" I ask, flexing my biceps.

"If we're the last at the party, the guys are gonna make us take shots. It's kinda like a punishment. Getting hammered before night fall basically."

I chuckle nervously.

Shit.

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We enter Garret's house and see Matt, Cameron and Aaron all with bottles of alcohol in their hands. Lights shine and sweaty bodies dance around.

Cameron yells in excitement. "You pussies are late! Guess who's taking shots!?"

Ethan groans playfully. "Alright. Let's get this over with." He says, taking a seat.

Matt pours the liquor in a small cup.

I gulp nervously.

"Get over here!" He says, poring to the spot beside Ethan and pouring another shot for me.

"I-I've never...." I stutter.

Everyone laughs but the music blaring from the speakers seems to drown them.

"There's a first time for everything." He says.

I nod slowly and sit down.

In front of me lay 3 glasses. 3 for me, 3 for Ethan.

"All three?" I ask, raising my eyebrows.

They chuckle at my retarded question and nod.

I take a deep breath and Aaron counts down.

"3.....2......1!!"

Ethan and me grab the glasses and gulp them down quickly.

I gag at the strong bitter taste and immediately regret taking it. Ethan keeps going like he's used to it and he keeps getting his glasses filled as he finishes.

I take more and try not to look like such a failure.

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By the end of it, I don't feel dizzy or drunk but I do feel warm. And a little happy. No, a lot happy.

Everyone yells over the music trying to be heard. I bend to see the time on my phone. 2:50pm.
Fuck.

I press to iMessage and text Brooke.

Babe, do you mind meeting me there for ice cream? I'm getting held back a little....

I type slowly, trying to sound 100% sober. I mean, I AM sober, I'm not drunk. I just don't feel normal. She doesn't answer immediately so I continue to stare at my phone nervously.

About 5 minutes later, my phone vibrates.

Sure. Everything okay?

I type back, looking around the room.
Yeah, it's all good. I'll see you there, princess.

As soon as I hit send, I rush through the crowds of people and try and find Ethan.

I spot him at a beer pong table, raising his hands in victory as his ball lands in a cup.

"Dude!" I yell, moving closer to his ear.

"Yeah?"

"We have a problem. I gotta look normal and be at the ice cream place in 10 minutes for Brooklyn."

Ethan turns to me. "Dude...."
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Brooklyn's POV

I smile to myself, looking out of the window of the ice cream parlour. I grabbed a seat near the windows in the front.

I seriously can't wait. This is our second date right? I mean the first was a date? Who cares. I'm here with him.

I giggle to myself, looking out. It's a beautiful day. A really, really nice day.

I watch couples come and go and little kids holding their parents hand, pointing to the colourful ice cream comes.

I wonder where he is?

I open my bag and ale my one out checking the time and to see if Grayson's texted me.

Nothing. But it's 3:30. Half an hour past 3.

I text him

Grayson is everything okay? It's 3:30
I type. My thumb hovers over the send button before I rethink and delete it all. He's fine. It'll just sound clingy. I just have to be patient.
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I check my phone again as my head rests against the window. 4:30. An hour.

I sit up straight again, trying to blink away tears that I could feel coming. Grayson stood me up. No.... No he wouldn't. He's just running late. But... what if he really didn't want to come. Was I being clingy?

Well I mean it's been a while. Now I can text him.

So I open the iMessage app and type.

Baby, where are you? Are you okay?
I press the send button this time.

Nothing.

To distract myself, I pick out my earbuds from my front pocket and plug them into my headphone jack, putting on some music.

I put my playlist on shuffle so suddenly a sad song comes on. "Not above love" by Aluna George comes on and I shake my head, wiping tears that subconsciously fell from my cheeks.

He's still coming. I repeat to myself, pressing my hands tightly to each other. He's still coming.

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5:49

It's 5:49 and he still isn't here.

I pull my fingers and rub my palms against my thighs roughly. He's coming.

Then it happens.

My chest tightens and my breathing shallows.

He's not coming.

It's been more than 2 hours. He's not coming.

And that's when the tears fell.

I got up, took my bag from a strap and proceeded to walk home, tears still rolling down my cheeks.

I look back one more time, just in case his car rolled in.

Nope.

He never came.

Goddamn it.