Wonderland

❄B9❄ Why Must It Be The Guys Who Hand Over Jackets?

Chapter Nine

Brayden

Why Must It Be The Guys Who Hand Over Jackets?

October 15

I think Heather was right.

I think Berkeley is starting to grow on me, as much as I try to deny that fact. I used to look at Berkeley with utter annoyance, but now, I'm starting to grow fond of her. The last time I felt this way, it was around Bridget. I don't know what to do.

"Let's do something fun today," Berkeley said, after I had helped her on a math problem. We were in my room today, not wanting to study at a library. Plus, it was a Friday, and no one wanted to spend their Friday evening at the library of all places.

"Do what?" I asked, snapping out of my math-induced mind. I had been thinking about a particular problem on the homework I was doing—a problem that I had been stuck on for a while.

"Nicki messaged me about a party going on at one of those sorority houses tonight. She and Sasha are going. You want to come with me?"

"Uh..." No, I thought. I hated parties. I definitely wasn't a partier. Also, my friends back home messaged me to get online today so that we could complete a game session tonight and post it on my YouTube channel. I've been rather inactive with my account, and some of my subscribers were starting to get pissed.

On YouTube, I'm known as Recoil Madness, the guy who kicks ass in everything game-related. Since I was a child, I'd been entering into gaming competitions, even winning some of them. Unfortunately, I'm at a stage in my life now where gaming is only a luxury. I barely have time to game and make videos anymore when I have grades to maintain and a degree to pursue.

"Please, Brayden?" Berkeley pleaded.

"I'm not into parties," I said, stiffly.

"What boy doesn't like parties?"

"Me. You should go with your friends, though."

"I want you to go with me, though," Berkeley said, her voice small.

Is she subtly asking me out on a date? I found myself thinking, as I scrutinized her.

Fuck. Definitely not going to happen.

"Sorry, Berkeley," I said. "Not this time."

She bit down on her bottom lip and nodded dejectedly. "Okay."

I couldn't help but feel slightly bad at having refused her.

She slung her messenger bag over her shoulders and made her way towards the door.

I couldn't help but recall something Heather had said a few days ago:

"You should ask her out. Like give her a shot. She seems like a great person."

While I had no intention of asking Berkeley out, I did, however, know that I didn't want to wake up the next morning to find her dead. I'm pretty sure that party would involve some heavy drinking. Before I knew it, I found myself saying, "Fine. I'll go with you."

Berkeley, who was just about to step out of the door, turned her body around slightly so that she could look at me. "Are you serious?"

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "If I see drugs there, I'm gone."

"It's Washington: Weed is everywhere. What do you expect? Just don't touch them," she said. She burst into a big smile and ran over to me, surprising me by throwing her arms around me. I staggered back a few inches. "This is why I like you, Brayden," she said, happily. "You're a real gentleman."