All Played Out

I see red.

It’s bad enough that she’s in my house, and all these other people are here, so I can’t just grab her and devour that damn pouty mouth of hers. But no one else touches her. No one. Jesus, I’d take a concussion over this any day.

I fly down the stairs at the same time as she stops drinking and the guy starts lowering her feet toward the ground. She’s laughing, and her long hair is wild and twisted over her face. She pulls it away so she can see, and while she does it, Keg-Stand Guy keeps a hand on her lower back like he needs to steady her.

I march over to them and grip both her shoulders to spin her away from him.

“What the fuck, man?” he calls at my back.

But now I’ve got my hands on her. A few locks of hair are caught between my fingers and her shoulders, and I just want to bury my fingers in those thick tresses.

“What are you doing?” Nell asks.

She’s breathing heavy, probably from being upside down and chugging beer, which she doesn’t even like. Damn it, everything about this night is pissing me off.

“That’s two more firsts tonight,” I growl.

She tries to pull away, but I tighten my grip.

“Stella and I were just about to leave. We are leaving. Now.”

“Oh no. Not yet, girl genius. You and I need to talk.”

Maybe she’s all good. Maybe I’ll be making a complete fool of myself in a matter of moments, but I’ve got to do it. I force myself to let go of her shoulders and reach down to take her hand.

“Come with me.”

“But—I—”

“Nell? You okay?” Stella asks from nearby.

“I just want to talk. Then you can come back out here to Stella. You can do whatever you want.”

She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, and I fight off a groan. “It’s okay, Stella.”

Everyone outside is watching us. I can’t just take Nell over to a quiet spot in the yard, not like this. So I squeeze her hand and lead her up the stairs and back inside. We pass through the living room, where the music is thumping to a fast beat, and I lead her back toward my room. There’s not as many people inside as there were when we were playing beer pong, but it’s not empty, which is what I want.

“Everybody out! I need the room.”

“Come on, man.” It’s Keyon, a true freshman running back, and he’s holding a Ping-Pong ball, ready to throw. “You said we could play.”

“I know. I’m sorry. But now you can’t, so get out.”

I know my voice is stern, and I probably seem like the biggest asshole around, but I don’t care. The people grumble as they leave, and Nell pulls her hand out of mine to retreat to the far side of the room. The longer it takes for people to leave, the more pressure builds in my head that has nothing to do with my recent injury. Two girls on my bed are the last to leave, and they linger at the door, looking at me.

One look at my hard face, though, and they disappear. I shut the door, and with my back still to Nell, I take a deep, fortifying breath.

I turn, and take in the red plastic cups scattered around the room, which looks like a damn tornado has moved through it.

“Sorry about that. The Ping-Pong table is mine, so whenever we have parties, I let people use my room to play.”

“You didn’t have to kick them out for me,” she says

“If I hadn’t, you would have disappeared without saying another word to me, right?”

She shrugs in answer.

I cross to the table and start stacking empty cups just so I’ll have something to do with my hands. I’ve been thinking about talking to Nell all day, but now that she’s here, I don’t know how to start.

I can’t screw this up.

When I go too long without talking, she says, “Listen, I’m sorry about showing up like this. Stella and I were just planning to get in, check a couple things off my list, and be on our way.”

That snaps me out of it. “She knows about your list?”

She’s leaning against my far wall, a few feet to the left of my bed, and the sight is messing with my head. Especially because her hands are pressed up against the wall behind her like she needs it to keep her from falling.

“I told her today. We’re going to finish tonight. In fact, I’ve just got one item left.”

“What is it?” I ask, and she hesitates. “Come on, you already cheated me out of two firsts today, at least tell me this.”

If it’s something sexual . . . if she’s planning on checking it off without me . . . Fuck.

“I didn’t cheat you out of anything. They’re my firsts.”

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m crossing the room and planting my hands on the wall right beside her head, caging her in. She sucks in a breath, like she’s trying to take up less space so we won’t touch.

“We’ve covered this before. I called those firsts. You were supposed to do them with me.”

“Oh my God, do you hear yourself?” She tries to shove me away, but I don’t budge. “The world does not revolve around you, Mateo Torres.”

“Oh, so first I was a puppet, now I think the world revolves around me.”

“You don’t get to call my firsts. They’re mine. And why should I let you be first in anything when I’m just a second for you? It’s not fun being second choice, is it?”

She pushes on me again, but I reach up and grab her wrists, holding her hands on my chest. “You’re not my second choice, Nell.”

“My bad. I forgot about football. I guess that really does make me third, doesn’t it? Excuse the mistake in my math.”