02

A F T E R P A R T Y

REN AND I WALKED under clear skies and a full moon. He strode slightly ahead of me, while I dragged my feet against the sidewalk and focused on the perfect circle in the sky. The stars were nothing but hazy speckles in a city as huge as Toronto, but I knew there were galaxies out there, and that consoled my inebriated mind.

He looked over his shoulder and slipped his hands into the pockets of his straight-legged jeans. His eyes were dark in every sense of the word. What did a guy like Ren think about? What did a guy like Ren think about me?

His irises on me were like mallets. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"So... are there a lot of people coming by?"

He faced forward with a hop in his step. "Nah. But Max said something about wanting to hang out with your friend Jenny, so."

Jenny. Somehow, in the past fifteen minutes we'd been walking, I hadn't thought about my best friend once. Guilt squeezed my throat shut. Ren was Jenny's crush, and I was alone with him. But why did that make me feel guilty? I wasn't doing anything wrong – I was allowed to be his friend.

(Even if every time he looked at me, my cheeks smoldered and my pulse roared).

"I like this, by the way," he said.

I frowned. His fingers grazed the keychain dangling from my pink burlap backpack.

"Oh." I reached back and touched it. It was of Princess Peach. Embarrassment crawled through me before I crossed my arms and looked away. "You don't have to be rude."

Ren cocked an eyebrow. "Rude? I said I liked it."

"You were being sarcastic."

"No I wasn't."

I chewed my lip as he moved behind me and touched my other keychains. I clutched onto the straps of my backpack with flames in my chest.

"They're cool." He walked back up beside me. "You have so many."

It was true. My bag was littered with little Nintendo keychains like Mario mushrooms and trinkets from Zelda. I collected them.

My face burned as I brushed my hair behind my ear. "Sorry. Jenny and Luisa think they're dumb."

The truth was, I hadn't been planning on bringing my backpack to the party in fear of ridicule, but Jenny had convinced me to hold some of the drinks.

Ren shrugged. "I'm into it."

"Oh, okay."

Oh God. Oh, okay? Really? How was that an appropriate response?

I need another drink.

My older brother, Feliks, had bought me a six-pack of Smirnoff Ice, and dread dawned upon me as I realized I'd left them in Heather's fucking fridge. So now I was alone with Rensuke – a guy I hardly knew – and without booze.

Sobriety threatened me as we turned another dark street corner. Lakewood was a nice neighbourhood, a good mix of higher and lower income homes. However, as we reached the end of the street, we approached the outskirts of the area, where buildings became historic and roads became cracked. We walked across a strip of commercial buildings like hair salons and restaurants, most of which had their lights out, until we got to a Mini-Mart at the end.

"It's just over here," Ren said.

He led me around the side of the old, broken-up brick building. A large door with spider webs obscuring the window was built into the side.

"Well, here it is." Ren shimmied open the door. I eyed the webs above my head as I passed through the entrance, careful not to let any new friends into my hair.

I was already making enough new friends for one night, apparently.

A dusty smell, like the basement of a Victorian home, engulfed me in the tiny, cramped stairwell. A rickety staircase lined with patchy green carpet ascended to the second floor, and with my heartbeat in my throat, I followed Ren up it.

"You know how Max and I know each other?" he asked as we reached the second floor.

I shook my head.

"We're neighbours." He gestured to a door we passed with his thumb. Unit 202.

When I thought of Max Orchard, I thought of gold medals and decathlons and swim meets. I thought of a golden boy with golden hair, an Abercrombie-wearing boy who lived in a big modern house in the upper end of Lakewood with a view of the CN Tower.

I didn't mean to be judgy, but I never imagined he'd live in a place where the halls smelled like mildew and the paint on the walls was chipped.

"You're surprised," Ren said.

My eyes snapped to his. His expression was apathetic, but a devious glint shone in his stare.

"Most people are," he said. "Max isn't ashamed of where he comes from, but he doesn't talk about it much, either."

I wanted to speak, but I had no words. I was way too sober for this.

We reached the end of the hall. Unit 208. Ren's movements were clumsy as he shoved his key in the lock and turned it, then kicked at the teal-painted door.

"I live with my sister." The door creaked as he shoved it open. "But rent in this city's a bitch, so we share a one bedroom. Hence..."

He stepped inside. With needles in my chest, I followed.

There was a double bed in the living room with a couch at the end of it. A small, dark kitchen and two other doors were beyond it, while a cluttered bookshelf rested against the wall. Posters of obscure bands and familiar video games and comics littered the green walls.

"This is why I need a job," Ren said. "My sister's hardly ever home, but I'm sick of my living room doubling as my bedroom. Hope you don't mind."

I nervously licked my lips. "Oh, not at all."

I faced the wall with the bed, and my breath caught in my throat. It'd taken my drunk mind a moment to digest that the entire wall was a painted portrait of the Toronto skyline in black and white with hints of red and yellow. Stars stippled the sky, and the detail was so acute, there were even constellations meshed in.

"Whoa," I said.

Ren stood beside me. "Oh, my sister and I painted that. Pretty cool, eh?"

"Really cool," I said.

More than really cool. This apartment had character – character I didn't expect Ren to have.

Once I was done marvelling at the mural, Ren told me to make myself comfortable. But that was impossible. As cool as his apartment was, being there was weird as fuck.

With stiff muscles, I sat on the black faux-leather and sucked in a breath. Aside from a huge bottle of Crown Royal and some shot glasses on the coffee table, the place was immaculate. He even had the black sheets of his bed made, something my brothers – and my father – were too lazy to do. So it was weird for me to see a guy who actually cleaned up after himself. Papa always had a maid for that.

"Wanna do shots?" Ren asked.

I was probably more relieved by that than I should've been.

We spent the next inconceivable stretch of time drinking and talking. The first shot went straight to my head, and my second had me slurring and sputtering my speech. Ren was cute when he was drunk. His cheeks were tinged pink and his mannerisms were different – almost shy. I'd never expected Ren Mori to come off as shy. 

"I have two older brothers," I said, my shoulders swaying. "They're twins, so that, plus being the only girl, has always sort of separated me."

I normally wouldn't talk to anyone about my family – especially not some random guy – but that's the thing about alcohol. It makes you vulnerable. You loosen up, you let your walls down, you talk to virtual strangers like you've been best friends for decades. I wasn't a huge drinker – a few coolers were enough to turn my cheeks to fire and my heart into an open faucet – so the five shots of whiskey I'd taken were really hitting me.

Ren exited the kitchen holding two cans of Budweiser and handed me one as he sat down. How does that saying go? Liquor before beer, you're in the clear? Beer before liquor, you'll get sicker?

Does that mean I'm safe?

"I have a fucked family dynamic, so I can't say I relate." Ren put his feet up on the coffee table and cracked open the can.

I wanted to ask where his parents were, but even in my drunken mind, that seemed like a rude question. They were clearly not around, and it wasn't my place to ask why.

"Anyway," Ren said, "you have all those Nintendo keychains. You play at all?"

I nodded. I'd never gamed with anyone but my brothers before, but video games were one of the few escapes I had from my daily life.

I'd been too zoned out, lost in wobbly thoughts, to notice that Ren had turned on the TV opposing the couch. I flinched as he threw a Gamecube controller on my lap.

We played a round of MarioKart, where I was the crappiest drunk driver ever, but he was somehow worse. We both lost to the computer players, but I placed three spots above him.

"I can't believe you beat me." Ren tossed his controller. "I normally own this game."

"I just got lucky," I said, sipping my beer. My shoulders swayed and my vision momentarily blurred. 

Okay, yeah, I was drunk.

"God, don't be modest," Ren muttered. "You're kickass at this."

My cheeks grew hot. I grinned, bit my knuckle and looked away.

He sat up straight and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. "So what's your story, anyway?"

"Um, what do you mean?"

Ren shrugged. "You always seem like you have something on your mind, like you're – I dunno – sad or something." He covered his mouth with his hand. "Shit, sorry. That was rude as fuck. I'm drunk."

I was quiet. It wasn't as rude as it was... random. And unexpected.

"No, I'm not offended," I said. "You're just the only one who's ever said something like that to me."

Everyone always said I was cute or shy. They didn't see that a lot of the time when I didn't speak, it was because there was a cloud over my head or a weight on my shoulders, or a storm of nerves tearing up my ability to talk coherently.

"I guess I've always been good at spotting people," Ren said. "I knew Max wasn't living a fairy tale the moment I met him."

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm sad. It's more like..." I shook my head. "I dunno. It sounds dumb."

He sat up. "No, tell me."

I shifted my weight and took a deep breath. Sure, I'd never told anyone this before, but Ren could handle it, right?

"I just feel drained sometimes," I said. "Having to go to school and see people and pretend to be something I'm not. It's exhausting."

"Trust me, I know the feeling."

I met his bloodshot eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah." He yawned. "School's brutal. I wouldn't say I pretend to be anything I'm not, but like, I always come home feeling like I've just had all my blood sucked out, y'know?"

"Yeah." My grin widened. "I totally know what you mean."

Did Ren really feel that way? I'd never heard Jenny or Luisa – or anyone else, for that matter – talk about school like that. I'd always thought I was a freak. Sure, kids talked about hating school in class and stuff, but no one I'd known personally. And no one had ever put into words something I'd been feeling for years.

Drained. Like I'd had my blood sucked out. That was a good way to put it.

"But I just try to get through it," Ren said. "Stress. Anxiety. All that shit. It's just a part of life."

Was it a part of life? Because the one time I'd tried to talk to Jenny about how I felt, she'd told me I had nothing to complain about because I was pretty and thin. And of course Jenny and everyone else had stresses and anxieties of their own, but I'd always felt like a fish out of water with mine. My worries seemed so vastly different from my friends'.

I wasn't worried about school or how my body looked or even my future. I was worried about my overall self. About if every person I'd ever met thought I was a freak, about if I was a freak. I worried about my own dampened moods, how everyone else's smiles seemed so genuine, yet mine were so fake.

Did Ren really understand how I felt?

He fidgeted with a piece of string. "You don't need to fake it, y'know. If you don't wanna smile, then don't. If you don't wanna act like someone you're not, then don't. You might become less popular like me, but honestly, I felt a lot less stressed when I stopped caring what people thought about me."

"Is that why you always seem so, I dunno..." I blushed and brushed my hair behind my ear.

"Rude?" he finished with a grin, and I smiled.

"Standoffish. Yeah. Sorry."

"It's fine. Yeah, I guess that is why."

He seemed rude because he was drained all the time and didn't have the energy to fake it like I did. Ren and I had something in common – I guess we were both pieces of flimsy fabric, and the booze we'd drank was the stitch that bound us together. Maybe that was a weird thought to have – hell, maybe Ren didn't feel the same way – but I was connected to him. He'd seen me and I'd seen him. And for the first time in my life, someone saw beneath the veil of "the nice girl" to the real me, a jumbled ball of anxiety and bottled emotions.

I met his eyes. He looked at me intently with pieces of his black hair choppy against his forehead and a flush on his cheeks. The guy really was cute, and I had no idea how I'd never noticed it.

"You're pretty cool," he said. "Why haven't we talked before?"

He leaned toward me. My breath hitched in my throat. A tiny, indistinguishable voice echoed in the back of my mind and told me to step away, but my body leaned toward him, too. His eyes were magnetic. They had mine in their pull, and all I wanted was to close the gap between us.

Sober Ella had barely looked at Ren before. Drunk Ella was intoxicated by his apparent charms.

"I mean," Ren continued, that smirk on the left side of his lip lifting, "you've always been around, but we've never even hung out."

"I, uh." I laughed like an idiot and brushed my hair behind my ear. Biting my lip, I met his intense, burning eyes. "I dunno."

He brought his hand to my cheek and touched it. My heart pounded. Holy shit. He was touching me. And I wanted him to touch me. His fingers grazed my skin and left a stream of embers. I shivered and met his half-lidded eyes, before he closed the gap between us and pressed his lips to mine.

My heart fluttered. His breath was warm on my face, and his lips were soft like flower petals. He smelled like whiskey and Old Spice and something I'd never smelled before. He brought his electric touch to my thigh, but when his tongue met mine, reality hit me like a freight train.

I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him away.

"Um, whoa."

"Sorry." He backed away and hooked his hand to the back of his neck. "Um, fuck, sorry. That wasn't cool. I'm—"

A knocking at the door jerked my heart into my throat. I dove away from Ren (and his lips) faster than fucking lighting. Jenny came barrelling into the apartment, and Max, like a drunk mouse, stumbled in after her. My entire perception was fucked. I barely even twitched as I processed that they were in the room, because I'd just kissed Ren.

Why the fuck did that just happen?

Okay, I couldn't think about that. I needed to take things one step at a time. Whether I'd really just kissed Ren or imagined the whole thing up could come later.

The door shut behind them, and I frowned. "Jenny? Where's Luisa?"

Jenny's brown eyes didn't even land on me. She looked right at Ren with knotted brows and a disdainful frown.

What the hell?

Jenny took a deep breath. "Ren? Can we talk?"

"Um..." He cocked an eyebrow, and I didn't blame him. This was weird.

"Please?" Jenny asked.

"Okay, I guess." He wiped his palms on his jeans and stood up, pointing to the sliding glass door that must've led to a balcony. They left and closed the door behind them, and my heart flopped around in my chest.

Max slumped on the couch beside me. The foreign – yet strangely familiar – walls of the room spun around me.

I kissed Ren.

Nope, I couldn't think about that. Max Orchard was beside me on the couch and I couldn't afford a panic attack. I took another giant swig of my beer.

"God," Max said, "I'm such an idiot, aren't I?"

I averted my stare. "Um, what?"

He cradled his head in his hands and swayed back and forth, clearly drunk as fuck. "I said something really mean to Jenny. That's why she's tripping out at Ren. Oh man, she's gonna regret this so hard."

"What did you say to Jenny?"

Max's blue eyes were glazy and red. "I just told her the truth that no one else wants to tell her. Ren's my best friend – I know what he thinks of her. So I just told her the truth, y'know? I just told her – listen Jenny, I think you're a gorgeous girl with an amazing personality and I'd ask you out if you weren't fuckin' obsessed with a guy who clearly doesn't like you and never will. That's like, word-for-word what I said. Oh my God, I'm a fucking asshole."

I absorbed that paragraph in phases.

One: Max fucking Orchard has a crush on Jenny.

Two: After all these years, someone has finally told Jenny the truth.

Three: I'll never, ever have a shot with Max.

And four: My shot with Max went right out the window as soon as I'd kissed Ren not even five minutes before. Ren and I had fucking kissed, and he was definitely gonna tell his best friend.

Max kept babbling. "I mean, he's just not into her though, right? You see it, Bella."

I narrowed my eyes. Hot guy or not, what the fuck did he just say?

"What did you just call me?" I asked.

"What? Bella," he slurred.

"I'm Ella."

Now I was pissed. It wasn't that Max thought my name was Bella (he did know who I was), he was just mistaking me for another girl at our school, Bella Anderson. She was a blonde around my height – 5'5 – and was in the music program too, so people mistook us all the fucking time. But for some reason, Max calling me Bella in this particular moment was like a slap to the face.

I can't deal with this drunk idiot.

He regurgitated some other garbage words, but I didn't listen. On the balcony, Ren wore an irate expression as Jenny motioned with her hands. She did that when she was talking about something she was passionate about, and my stomach sank. Oh God – she was hammered, and she was gonna say some shit she'd regret.

Moments later, Ren shook his head and said something. Jenny crashed back into the apartment with makeup streaming down her face. She grabbed my arm with a kung-fu grip. 

"Ella, we're leaving."

"Um—shit okay." I scrambled to collect my belongings as Jenny dragged me away. Through the window to the balcony, my eyes connected with Ren's, the guy who I'd kissed.

How could I do that? Why did I do that? I didn't even know him! Alcohol is fucking stupid. Whoever said that it made people behave in ways that are true to themselves is fucking dumb too, because I had to believe that the real Ella wouldn't've kissed her best friend's crush behind her back.

I wanted to believe that, but I didn't. Because I had kissed him.

And now I had to live with it.