Page 14 of Dirty Chorus

“Nope, we are leaving...”

She jerks away. “Why? You don’t want me! Why should I go with you?” Then, just as quickly, she storms off toward the crowd, disappearing between bodies.

I head back into the party and lose Amy in the masses. Great. I hate playing hide and seek with her. But then I spot Charlie with my beanie slipping in between bodies too.

Then shouting overpowers the booming music. It’s coming from down the hallway. Several voices scream indistinctly, and the sea of partygoers stop dancing and start leaning toward the hallway. Two broody guys storm past me, bulging with power that would take me years of gym time to achieve.

“Every fucking time, man!” one of them grumbles, throwing his hands down. “Why am I always dealing with this drama?”

“Move!” Another pushes people aside as they make their way through the swarm. People stand on their tippy-toes to glance at the commotion.

In the midst of everyone, I spot Charlie still wearing my beanie, shoulder checking people. She’s yelling at people too, and she's bold enough to shove people in the chest. I snake through the crowd, following her long curly hair, to the hallway with carpet covered in dark stains. When Charlie stops, her hands bundle into tight fists at her sides, staring into a bedroom showered in crimson light.

A third guy, who looks way too similar to Charlie, is being restrained by several other men.

“Let’s go get some air!” One guy grasps his face, slapping him across the cheeks. But he's huffing and puffing, his biceps straining against their hold as he hollers, spit flying out of his mouth. The veins in his forehead protrude, and he’s turning purple.

“That’s my girlfriend!” He’s kicking his legs into the air. “You fucking dick!”

“Ryder! Bro! Let’s go! Let’s go get some air! Let’s go outside.”

“You slept with my girlfriend!” he screams as they drag him through the crowd. The red lighting is dim through the bedroom, but I get a mere glimpse of a naked blonde with melons for breasts gathering her lingerie. A thick and muscular guy puts on his boxers, and wipes his bottom lip.

Charlie turns around, her fingers pressed against her eyes, with lips trembling. She fans herself with her hand, but her cheeks are getting redder by the second. When she meets my gaze, it hits me. That must be the boyfriend.

Chapter 10

Charlie

Brody’s supposed to chase after me. Right? Tell me it’s not what it looks like while stumbling out of the room to put his pants back on? Defend himself while simultaneously yanking his hair out, telling me he loves me? But he doesn’t do any of that.

Brody smirks as Ryder is hauled off through the crowd, kicking like a five-year-old. He wipes the cherry lipstick off his mouth, pulls up his jeans and buckles his belt. I’m a statue. I drop my gaze to my feet as he pushes past me like I never existed.

Brittni is no better, ruffling her hair in the mirror, and putting more lipstick on. She struts out of the room with pink cheeks glowing, and there's no sign of any remorse on her face. She looks quite pleased with herself.

“Oh, my God!” one of Brittni’s friends squeals, linking arms with her. It’s that dumb redhead again, with the triple-D boobs about to pop out of her tight lime-green dress. “You’re such a slut!” She flutters her thick eyelashes. “How was it? You were in there for over an hour.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t hear us. I fucking needed that!”

I break out in a cold sweat from head to toe and cover my mouth with a hand. It’s safe to say I think I might be sick.

When I spot Brody in the crowd lifting up a beer, cheering with his bros, I make a beeline for the nearest exit. The metal front door rattles as it closes behind me, and I collapse onto the patio steps, throwing my purse next to me. Acid eats a hole out of my stomach, and I wait for the White Claws to resurface.

Brody cheated...

At least I think he cheated. We were still together. Right? He called me baby... but that must have been why he was weird on the phone. He was fucking... her. They must have been going at it for a while.

My conscience is condemning me for blocking him, and I think my head might explode. It’s all my fault. I deserve it. Maybe I should've gotten wasted and found myself naked in his bed, walking my fingers across his chest like that bitch just did.

I dunno where I went wrong. How did our relationship become this shitty? Maybe it’s the stupid rule I made. I wanted to wait. Yep, three hundred and sixty five days before I gave it all up.

Of course, he would sleep with someone else. Brody’s just like every guy I get close to. He wants to speed up the countdown or pretend my boundaries don’t exist. I might as well put a lighter to my heart and set it on fire.

I don’t understand.

Why am I not hysterical and beating my car horn with tears and slobber and snot running down my nose? There’s no desire to go to the gas station, fill up one of those red gallon containers, so I can set Brody’s house on fire. Better yet, go to Walmart and buy the cheapest Louisville Slugger and knock the headlights out of his pretty white Camaro of his.

I'm about to get up when the metal door opens and shuts. It’s Noah, and my heart aches a little more. He sits down next to me, his arms hanging over his knees. I didn’t notice the holes in his pants before. There are tattoos on his kneecaps too. I can’t make out the design, but there are pretty colors mixing together. His hair still looks perfect and silky smooth, with a pretty shine to it. Mine begs for the love of a hairbrush.