The Why Behind What We Feel

Chapter 13- The Sparks

I have no idea how long I've been sitting on the bathroom floor, staring at the peach colored wall in front of me. Minutes? Hours? Is it tomorrow already?

Why do I feel this way?

I'm a psychology student, so the why behind what I feel has always been what's most important to me. Until I can figure out why something bothers me, there's no point in trying to fix it. Aspen has said and done things that's made me question his feelings for me, but he's never crossed the line. We've danced all over the line, but it still remains to be crossed.

Or does it?

Was that ever even a possibility? And if it was, would I even want that?

If I think logically about all this, I know Aspen and I could never be in a relationship. I'm moving away soon and I'm not oblivious to the fact that he's way too good looking for me. He wants someone like the perfect blonde Barbie he was talking to earlier, not some homely looking gal like myself. And I'm okay with that.

Am I okay with that?

No. I'm not. Because logical or not, I have feelings for him. He's so open and real. He doesn't care what other people think. He's fun, he's carefree, he's honest, he's everything I've ever wanted out of a potential partner.

Except he's full of secrets. He's told me some of them, but I know there's more. There's probably far more than what he's told me. Can I afford to be involved with someone like that?

Even if none of that mattered, I've obviously read into this situation the wrong way. We're just friends. We've always been just friends and that's all we're ever going to be.

I take a deep breath and pull myself up off the floor. I check my reflection in the mirror, giving myself an internal pep talk.

I'm going back out there.

I'm enjoying this night with my friends.

I won't let anyone or anything get in the way of that tonight.

I open the door to leave and I startle when I see the same blonde girl I saw with Aspen earlier standing right in front of me.

"Oh, sorry!" she grimaces. "I swear I was about to knock."

"It's okay," I smile. "I'm done now."

"I really like that dress," she says, walking past me and into the bathroom. "Yellow is a really good color for you."

"Thank you," I reply, taken back by her flattery.

She turns to me and smiles, but then her eyes move down to my bare feet and her smile quickly fades. "So you're the girlfriend," she whispers under her breath.

"I'm sorry?" I ask, wondering if I heard her right.

"Aspen is holding your shoes. You must be his girlfriend," she says kind of bitterly.

"You think just because a guy holds a girl's shoes they're automatically in a relationship?" I scoff humorously.

She crosses her long, thin arms over her chest, her blue eyes narrowing into slits. "That and the fact that he said he had a girlfriend."

"He said that?" I ask, c*****g a brow.

"Don't play dumb. Aspen is hot. You should be proud," she says, again, with a bitter undertone to her words.

I open my mouth to respond, but I don't even know what to say. Did Aspen tell her I was his girlfriend? Is he using me as a scapegoat? I mean, I could care less if he is, but he could at least give me a heads up first.

The relief I feel knowing Aspen turned this blonde bombshell down forces me to keep my mouth shut. I don't have to get the last word. She can believe whatever she wants.

Feeling awkward all of a sudden, I quickly turn and walk away before this gets any worse.

I go back into the main room of the house and look around for Lizzy. I spot her dancing with Drake, so I decide to give them their moment. They'll be saying goodbye soon too and their three year on again, off again relationship will be off forever. While neither of them will admit it out loud, I know they don't want to leave each other.

"Hey Sessy!"

I look around and smile when I see Tristan, Drake's older brother, approaching me.

"That is a really nice dress!" he says, giving me a respectful side hug.

Tristan is nothing like Drake. He's more focused on his future than chasing women. He's a couple of years older than us, finishing up his final year of graduate school. He's kind and respectful, even if he does look a little like Carlton Banks. He throws a lot of parties since he has a nice home in the Garden District, and he's the former President of the Sigma Kappa fraternity, so he usually makes it to all of their functions. But even at his own parties, he doesn't drink a lot, he doesn't stalk women like they're his prey. He just socializes and makes sure everyone is having a good time.

"Thank you so much!" I grin. "Look at you in that suit! You look like a black James Bond."

"I could put on my wig and be Rick James Bond," he says, making me laugh too. "Where's my brother? Have you seen him around lately?"

"Uh, yeah. He was dancing with Lizzy a few minutes ago," I answer.

"Would you...want to dance with me?" he asks.

I blink a couple of times, caught way off guard. "Um...I..."

"Hi Tristan, long time no see," Aspen says, coming over and wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

"I literally saw you like five minutes ago," Tristan replies, furrowing his thick brows.

I give Aspen a look. He smells like alcohol, but he said he didn't want to drink tonight. Or maybe he just didn't want to drink champagne. Either way, I don't think I've ever seen him like this before. And knowing what I know about him, alcohol could be the match that ignites one possibly short fuse.

He looks back at me, his haunting green eyes swirling with all kinds of unreadable emotions. Is that the alcohol? Or is there a storm brewing?

Fearing the latter, I link my arm with Aspen's. "Tristan, I'm sorry to cut our conversation short, but my boyfriend and I need to..." I trail off, panicking for a moment. I need to get Aspen alone to ask him why he's suddenly boozing away. "Go...have sex."

"What?!" both Aspen and Tristan ask at the same time.

I laugh nervously and pull Aspen away, and despite his protests, I don't slow down until I find an unoccupied room. I pull him inside, closing and locking the door behind me.

"Wait...we're not really having sex... are we?" he asks.

"No," I scoff.

"But you said that..."

"I said that because I wanted to get away from him. He asked me to dance and I didn't want to."

"So you used me?" he asks dramatically.

I chuckle. "Just like you used me."

"Wait, what? When did I use you?"

"I ran into this pretty little blonde earlier. Well, not little. She was actually very, very tall. But she told me you told her I was your girlfriend."

"I didn't tell her that. She asked me whose shoes I was carrying and I told her my girlfriend's so she wouldn't try and make a move on me," he shrugs. "I didn't say you were the girlfriend specifically."

"But you said you were holding your girlfriend's shoes and the shoes happen to be mine and when I ran into her, she saw I wasn't wearing shoes and put two and two together," I explain.

He just stares at me blankly, as if I've just asked him to solve some sort of complicated riddle.

"Never mind," I sigh in defeat. "Anyway, the real reason I dragged you in here is to make sure you're okay. You seem wasted and we haven't been here all that long."

"I may have had three or four beers," he answers, plopping down in the chair behind the mahogany desk that takes up most of this room.

"You didn't answer my question."

"I didn't?" he smirks, kicking his feet up on the desk and making himself comfortable.

"Did I ask how many beers you had? No. I asked if you were okay. Why are you drinking so much, and so fast?"

"It's a party. I just wanted to have a good time," he shrugs.

"You can't have a good time unless you're drinking?" I ask, furrowing my brows.

He presses his lips together, putting his feet on the floor and staring at the wall to the right as if he's lost in thought for a few seconds. "Not unless I'm with you."

"You're with me right now."

He looks up at me, the storm in his eyes fully raging now. "I want to be alone with you."

"And...you are alone with me. Right now. At this very moment."

He stands and slowly walks around the desk, never taking his eyes off mine. He stands in front of me and suddenly, I feel weak. He seems almost...unhinged. Should I be worried? Or better yet, should I be afraid?

Letting my thoughts consume me, I take a step back.

Aspen furrows his brows. "Are you... afraid of me?"

I swallow hard. "No."

He takes a step forward, closing the space between us. "Yes you are."

"No, I'm not," I say firmly. "I'm not afraid of you. I'm just...worried about you."

My words seem to momentarily stun him. His stormy eyes start to soften and his hard, stoic expression turns into something I can't quite place. It's not really sadness. It's not anger. It's....

It's fear.

"What are you afraid of?" I whisper softly, reaching for his hand.

He's hesitant at first, but he finally takes my hand, lacing our fingers together. He stares down at our joined hands for a while before looking up at me. "I'm afraid of losing you."

"Losing me?" I repeat.

"You're leaving soon. In just a couple of months. After that, none of this will...mean anything."

"Mean anything?" I ask. "What are you talking about?"

He shakes his head, letting go of my hand. "Never mind. We should get back out to the party. Lizzy was looking for you earlier."

He unlocks the door and leaves the room without another word.

I stand in the same spot, wondering what the hell just happened. Aspen is a complicated person, but tonight, he's being more frustrating than a Rubik's Cube. And maybe it's because he could be starting to realize the same thing I have tonight- that we're getting too close.

I could be reading into it too much and that's not the case for him, at all. As for me though, I won't deny my feelings. Well, not to myself anyway. It's impossible not to fall for someone like Aspen. He's beautiful, kind, funny, and so open and honest about who he is. And even if he felt the same way about me, it wouldn't matter. What we have is great, but it could never be more than what it is right now. It could never mean anything more.

Wait...

Is that why Aspen is upset?

I hurry out of the room to find him, pushing through people along the way. It's extremely difficult to navigate through this place without getting my toes stepped on, but finally, I make it to the other side of the room.

And still no sign of Aspen or Lizzy.

This night isn't turning out at all like I wanted it to.

Giving up, I start for the front door. The limo is parked outside waiting for us, and I have no problem spending the remainder of my time here, partying alone, in style.

People give me strange looks as I pass by them, probably wondering why I'm not wearing any shoes. I could care less right now. My best friend is missing- probably in a bathroom or closet, getting it on with Drake. My date is also missing and unfortunately, he's out of his mind. I'm afraid he could do something crazy if left unsupervised.

This night is a disaster.

"Hi there, miss," the limo driver smiles, opening the door for me.

"Thank you," I reply, getting inside. I gasp when I see Aspen sitting there. "Hey....what are you..."

"I left your shoes with Lizzy if that's what you're looking for," he says before finishing off his glass of champagne and wasting no time refilling it.

"Actually, I came out here because I couldn't find you or Lizzy, and I got tired of dodging drunk people and trying to protect my piggies," I reply, lifting my foot and wiggling my toes.

Aspen laughs. It's almost as if his laughter surprises him though.

I move over next to him and watch him expectantly. I know he wants to say something, I can see it in his eyes. Until he looks down.

"Are you and Tristan close?" he finally asks.

"No, not really. I see him around a lot since his brother is my neighbor, but that's about it," I shrug. "Why?"

"Just wondering," he replies without looking up.

A few tension-filled seconds go by before I finally have to say something. "Did Tristan...say something to you?"

He shakes his head, but doesn't bother responding.

"Did something happen since we got here? You were so excited and all of a sudden, it's like someone sucked the life out of you."

"I'm sorry," he chuckles. "I shouldn't have started drinking. I always...get in my feelings when I do."

"It's okay," I smirk, nudging him with my shoulder. "You can be in your feelings. I don't mind."

He finally looks up at me and forces a small smile. "Are you going to ask me why?"

"Do you want to tell me why?"

For a few seconds, he doesn't answer me. He just searches my eyes, making me feel so much; things I could never begin to explain.

"Usually people insist you tell them when something is bothering you. Sometimes they won't let it go for hours or even days," he sighs, slumping over. "Not until they've forced it out of you."

"I won't ever insist you tell me anything, but...I want you to tell me if something is bothering you. You can always talk to me," I remind him.

Again, he meets my eyes, and it's as if I can see the sparks dancing in them, ones I've never seen before. At first, I think he's going to open up to me and tell me what's bothering him. But he surprises the hell out of me when he leans forward and presses his lips to mine.