After We Collided (After 2)

“Not so much,” Hardin says without looking at her. I bring the cup to my lips to hide my smirk.

“I’m sure you did,” she responds.

“Fuck off,” he groans.

She rolls her eyes like it’s all a game. “Jeez, someone is pissy.”

“Come on, Tessa.” Hardin grabs my hand and pulls me away. We walk to the kitchen, leaving an annoyed Molly and a laughing Nate behind.

“Tessa!” Steph squeals as she jumps up from one of the couches. “Damn, girl! You look so hot! Wow!” Then she adds, “I would actually wear that!”

“Thanks.” I smile. It’s a little awkward seeing Steph, but not nearly as bad as seeing Molly. I have honestly missed Steph and am hoping that tonight goes smoothly enough that we can explore the possibility of rebuilding our friendship.

She hugs me. “I’m glad you came.”

“I’m going to go talk to Logan—stay right here,” Hardin instructs before walking away.

Steph eyes him with humor. “Rude as ever, I see.” She laughs loudly over the raucous music and partygoers’ voices.

“Yeah . . . some things never change.” I smile and gulp down the remainder of the sweet drink in my cup. I hate to think about it, but the taste of cherries reminds me of my kiss with Zed. His mouth was cold and his tongue sweet. It seems like another world, another Tessa, who shared that kiss with him.

As if Steph can read my thoughts, she taps my shoulder. “There’s Zed, have you seen him since . . . you know?” She points her zebra-print nail at a black-haired boy.

“No . . . I haven’t seen anyone, really. Except Hardin.”

“Zed felt like such an ass after everything. I almost felt sorry for him,” she says.

“Can we talk about something else, please?” I beg as his eyes meet mine and I look away.

“Oh yeah, shit; sorry. Want another drink?” she asks.

I smile to minimize the tension. “Yes, definitely.” I glance around the kitchen to where Zed was previously standing, but he’s gone. I chew on the inside of my cheek and look back at Steph, who is staring into her cup. Neither of us knows what exactly to say.

“Let’s go find Tristan,” she suggests.

“Hardin . . .” I begin to say that he asked me to stay put. But he didn’t ask, he demanded, which is annoying. I tip back my cup, gulping down the remainder of the cold drink. My cheeks are already getting warm from the alcohol running through me . . . My nerves are slightly calmer as I reach for yet another cup before following Steph into the living room.

The house is more crowded than I’ve ever seen it, and Hardin is nowhere to be found. Half of the living room has been taken over by a long card table filled with rows of red cups. Drunk college students throw Ping-Pong balls into the cups and then swallow the contents down. I’ll never understand the need for them to play all sorts of games when they’re intoxicated, but at least this one doesn’t seem to involve kissing. I spot Tristan sitting on the couch next to a redheaded guy who I remember seeing here before. He was smoking a joint with Jace the last time I saw him. Zed is seated on the arm of the couch and says something to the group, causing Tristan’s head to fall back from laughter. When Tristan looks up at Steph walking toward him, he smiles. I’ve liked Nate’s roommate from the first time I met him. He’s sweet, and he seems to really care for Steph.

“How are things between the two of you?” I ask her before we approach them.

She turns her whole body to me and beams. “Great, actually. I think I love him!”

“Think? You guys haven’t said it yet?” I gasp.

“No . . . God no. We’ve only been dating three months!”

“Oh . . .” Hardin and I said the words before we were dating at all.

“You and Hardin are different,” she says quickly, only lending support to my suspicions that she can read my thoughts. “How are you two?” she asks, then looks past me.

“Good, we are good.” It’s great to be able to say, since we are good, for once.

“You two are really the oddest couple.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, we are.”

“It’s a good thing, though. Could you imagine if Hardin were to find a girl like him? I would never want to meet her, that’s for sure.” She laughs.

“Me either,” I say and join in her laughter.

Tristan waves to Steph, and she pads over to take a seat on his lap. “There’s my girl.” He gives her a swift kiss on the cheek, then looks at me. “And how are you, Tessa?”

“I am very well. How are you?” I ask. I sound like a politician. Relax, Tessa.

“Fine. Drunk as shit, but fine.” He laughs.

“Where’s Hardin? I haven’t seen him,” the boy with the red hair asks me.

“He’s . . . well, I have no idea,” I answer and shrug.

“I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. I don’t see him going far from you,” Steph says to try and comfort me.

Actually, I don’t mind that I haven’t seen Hardin in a while, because the alcohol is making me less nervous, but I do wish he would return and hang out with me. These are all his friends, not mine. Except Steph, who I’m still deciding on. But right now she’s the person that I know the best, and I don’t want to stand here awkward and alone.

Someone bumps into me and I stumble forward slightly; luckily my drink is empty, so when the cup hits the already stained carpet, only a few drops of pink liquid dot the surface.