I stared at him for a beat before asking, “Did anyone see where that guy went?”
Casey looked confused. “What guy?”
At the same time, Yolanda asked, “You mean the tall, handsome Black guy in the canvas bomber jacket?”
I nodded. “We were kissing right before you guys showed up.”
“I saw him standing there when we joined you,” Yolanda said, “but I didn’t know you’d been making out.”
“We weren’t making out.” I thought about that and admitted, “Well, maybe a little. But then he just ran off without a word! Why would he do that?”
“No idea.” Yolanda put an arm around Eliot when he started to slump and asked him, “Exactly how much did you have to drink, cuz?” Sometimes I forgot those two were cousins.
“Lots and lots,” he muttered.
“We should probably head home before these two pass out,” Theo said, as he started guiding a swerving Kel toward the front door. On the way out, I kept looking for my handsome Cinderella, but he’d vanished.
We walked two blocks to Theo’s funky, French car. Eliot complained the whole way, but we’d been lucky to find a parking spot that close.
Casey rode shotgun, while everyone else crammed into the backseat. Yolanda and JoJo snuggled up cozily while the rest of us formed a twink pile with me at the bottom. “Please don’t barf. I’m begging you,” I muttered, as Kel settled in on my lap and Eliot sort of wrapped himself around both of us.
Somehow, we made it home without a major, booze-based catastrophe. When we pulled up in front of our hot pink Victorian, Casey said, “I’m going to spend tonight at Theo’s house, so good night all. Don’t forget, you’re coming over for brunch tomorrow.” Happy New Years were exchanged as we spilled out of the back seat.
Once we made it inside, Yolanda and JoJo said good night and headed to their bedroom at the back of the first floor. At the same time, Kel and Eliot climbed the stairs, mumbling about not feeling so good. That left me standing there by myself.
I was too wound up to go to bed, so I went into the living room and plugged in the pretty colored lights on the Christmas tree. Then I flopped down on the couch, took off my new black glitter boots, and rubbed my sore feet through my short, pink socks.
While I still looked halfway decent, I took the phone from my pocket and snapped a selfie with the tree in the background. Then I logged on to my fan page and posted it with a New Year’s message.
There was a crocheted blanket draped over the back of the couch, and I pulled it over me and got comfortable before checking my messages. As usual, I had a couple from guys looking to hook up, which I’d reply to in the morning. There was also one from Hawk, which he’d sent several hours ago: Just thought I’d say hi. I hope you had a good day.
Simple as it was, the message still made me smile because it showed he’d been thinking about me. I replied: I’m happy to hear from you! I just got home from a big New Year’s party, where I ate too much chocolate, my friends got drunk, and I kissed a cute guy at midnight. He then did a perfect Cinderella impression and ran away when my back was turned. He failed to leave a shoe behind though, so I’m not sure how I’ll ever find my prince again. How was your night? Did you do anything fun? Also, would you think it was weird if I gave you my number? It might be easier to text instead of messaging this way, but feel free to say no. Anyway, I should let you go, but let’s talk soon. Happy New Year!
After I sent the message, I reread it and frowned. It was too long and rambling, and maybe he’d think it was too soon to exchange numbers. That was actually a big step, compared to the anonymity of fan page messaging. Plus, maybe it had been weird to tell him about kissing some guy. I’d been shooting for funny, but there was a good chance I’d landed on awkward instead.
In fact, I’d probably just blown it. I didn’t even know this guy’s real name, and we’d only been chatting for a day, so why couldn’t I be more chill?
This was how I always ruined potential relationships—I wanted too much, too soon, and that sent guys running. Why couldn’t I just be happy with messages on my fan page? Why’d I have to try to make it into something more?
I held my phone for a while and watched to see if he’d message me back. But then I realized I was acting kind of pathetic, and I sighed and logged off.
I really had to learn to stop getting my hopes up.
I ended up falling asleep on the couch and was still there when JoJo and Yolanda came into the living room the next morning. They were carrying big, plastic storage boxes, and JoJo’s platinum blonde hair was tied back with a bandana, which told me they had work to do.
When I sat up and the blanket slid off me, Yolanda drew a sharp breath, dropped her box, and put her fists up. She might be tiny, but given the choice between fight or flight, that tough cookie went straight to fight.
“Sorry,” I muttered, as I pushed my hair out of my face. “I didn’t mean to pop up like a jack-in-the-box and startle you.”
“We thought you’d already gone to brunch,” JoJo said. “Kel mentioned your door was open and you weren’t in your room so we thought now would be a good time to, um…”
“You’re taking the tree down. I know. I’m going to shower and change while you do what you have to do.” I collected my boots and phone and headed for the stairs.
When I returned maybe fifteen minutes later, the couple stopped what they were doing and stood there looking guilty. They knew I was overly attached to the tree, and they didn’t want to make me sad by taking it apart in front of me. That was probably why they’d only removed the ornaments on the far side of the tree so far, so it still looked okay from my angle. I knew that because I saw a couple of the ornaments on the coffee table, waiting to get wrapped in tissue paper before they were packed away in the boxes.
“Thanks for trying to spare my feelings, but I’ve accepted the fact that the tree’s dead and getting kicked out today.” That wasn’t true. I hadn’t accepted it at all, but I didn’t want them to feel bad about it. The tree was definitely getting crispy, and it couldn’t stay forever, even if I wanted it to. “I’m going to go ahead and head to Theo’s house. Are you two planning to join us?”
“Yeah, probably in an hour,” Yolanda said, as she smoothed a strand of dark hair toward her ponytail. “Theo and Casey know we’ll be late. I’m not sure when Eliot and Kel will be getting there, though. Kel’s hung over, and I’m not even sure Eliot’s awake yet.”