Eliza

December 31st, 2009, Whistler, BC

"Why did we even come to this party?" Leon shouts over the pounding music.

"For the experience," I shout back. I search the heavy crowd for Tenille and Talbot. Earlier, I got a text from Tenille saying they were already here and that they'd meet up with us when we arrived. Leon and I have been here for twenty minutes and we still haven't found them. I continue to tug Leon through the crowd. "Where the heck are they?"

"Probably sucking each other's faces off in the bathroom," Leon snorts.

I wrinkle my nose. "Ew. Why would you say that? I'd rather not picture my friends making out." However, as soon as I speak those words, my mind reverts back to the first kiss Leon and I shared. I cough and tug him forward, unable to ignore how warm his hand is in mine.

"Because it's true," he laughs. "Those two would go at it for hours if they wanted to."

I decide that it's time to change the subject. Although Leon tends to attract people, he's never been much of a social butterfly; he'd rather stay home and watch a movie than be out at a high school party. "We won't stay long. We just have to find our friends and maybe have a drink or two. After that, we'll leave."

"Liz," Leon says. "We're only fifteen – it's illegal for us to drink."

I roll my eyes. "Come on. Live a little. One or two drinks aren't going to kill us."

Leon shakes his head. "You can have a drink, but I'm not. I promised Mom I wouldn't. Besides, I've tried alcohol before and I'm not a very big fan of it."

I smile, thankful that he can't see my face at the moment. This is the reason I love Leon – more than a friend, I might add. I've been pining over him for a while now, but I'm too scared to ask him out. I'm scared that our relationship will share the same fate at my parents' relationship did and I'll end up losing my best friend in the end. And that's the last thing I want. Leon not being in my life would be terrible. He's got such a great relationship with his family. He's always reliable and sweet and kind and funny – he always manages to make me laugh, even when I'm at my worst. He's the one who urges me to be brave and strong. And when he's holding my hand, I feel safe and content. Losing him would be like losing the sun.

But, despite not wanting to risk losing him, I can't help but wonder what we'd be like as a couple or what it would be like to cross that line with him. I briefly glance over my shoulder, wondering if he feels the same way. He makes so many comments that cause me to think he also has feelings for me, but it's also so hard to avoid the doubt or question the fact that I may be overthinking. I could be a fool for thinking he wants more than a friendship with me.

"Seriously, though, Liz," he adds. "Can we go soon? I really hate parties."

I stop walking and turn around to face him. Someone bumps into me, spilling their drink down the front of my shirt, but I'm too engrossed by Leon's gaze to care about the cold, sticky liquid that's soaking through my shirt and bra. "You didn't have to come," I say softly.

Leon glances around the crowded hallway before reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers linger by my earlobe as his gorgeous eyes search my face. "You asked me to come, Liz. I wasn't about to bail on you – I never would."

My cheeks begin to burn as the sudden urge to kiss Leon directly on the lips, to wrap my arms around his neck, to pull him flush against my body, jolts through me. He drops his hand to his side and I turn my face to the floor, hoping he doesn't see the emotions on my face.

"Well," I say, kicking at an invisible rock. "Let's go say hi to Tenille and Talbot, and then get out of here. We won't drink anything. Does that sound good?"

He arches a brow. "Is this a compromise?"

"If you want it to be," I shrug.

With an amused smirk on his face, Leon wraps an arm around my shoulders and presses a small kiss to my cheek. "Come on, Liz," he says. "I'm sure our friends are on the back porch."

As Leon guides me out onto the back porch, I can't help but think about how beautifully problematic his smirk is.

* * *

Leon and I don't get home until one-in-the-morning. Of course, as soon as we stumble into the kitchen, Crystal is waiting for us and sipping a steaming mug of tea. Well...I stumble into the kitchen. Leon prevents me from falling to the ground and breaking my nose.

Crystal gives us a look as she sets her mug down on the counter. "Where have you two been?" she demands.

"Mom," Leon says. He sits me down at the kitchen table, making sure I'm carefully balanced before he turns to her. "I texted you and said we were going to stay a little longer."

She doesn't look like she believes him, so she picks up her phone and checks her messages. Leon and I both watch as her face softens. "Oh," she says, "you did."

Leon shrugs. "It's fine, Mom. Maybe the text didn't go through until I was within closer range. Sorry if we worried you."

Crystal looks down at me and I cast my gaze aside, ashamed of my behaviour. Leon warned me that I would regret drinking as much as I did, but did I listen to him? Nope. "What happened to her?" she asks, concern lacing her voice.

"She had a little too much to drink. I tried to warn her, but you know Liz – she's stubborn as a mule." Leon cocks his head to the side and glances at me. "I think she regrets it now."

"I'm right here, you two," I groan, pressing my fingers to my temples. Already, I have a throbbing headache and my stomach is feeling jumpy. "Quit talking about me like I'm not; I can hear everything you're saying."

Leon reaches out and ruffles my hair. "Good. Lizzie, do you think I'm going to need to hold your hair back while you vomit up the contents of your stomach?"

I shove him away. He's teasing me and I don't like it. "Stop that. Stop having fun embarrassing me," I growl. "Do you want me to admit that you were right? That I shouldn't have taken part in beer pong?"

"Yes," he replies, resting his hand on my shoulder. "I would like that very much."

I can hear the humour in his voice, which makes me laugh a little, despite my jumpy stomach and a throbbing headache. I am never going to drink beer again. Never. "Fine," I mumble. "You were right."

"Mom, please tell me you got that on video."

The corner of Crystal's mouth quirks up. "I'm sorry, Leon, I didn't."

Leon snaps his fingers. "Damn. No one is going to believe that I got Eliza Sangster to admit she was wrong. Anyway, Liz is sleeping over tonight, if that's okay, because I know for a fact that her dad will kill her for drinking. Do you think you could keep this incident a secret just this once?"

I glance up at Crystal. Although she's trying to look disgusted with my decisions and behaviour, there's a small smile on her lips. "My lips," she says, making a zipper motion, "are sealed. But if this becomes a weekly reoccurrence, the zipper might just snap."

Leon salutes his mom and then helps me to my feet. "Come on, Liz. I've got a spare bedroom and an extra set of pyjamas waiting upstairs for you. I'll grab you some water and painkillers after."

"Pyjamas?" I mumble, stumbling beside him. "Did you have all this planned from the beginning? Was it your goal to get me drunk?"

"No," he laughs as he guides me up the stairs. "I'm just always prepared."

I smile back at him, wishing I could kiss him for helping me out in my time of need. And I almost do – but then my stomach begins to flip and flop in an uncomfortable way. I rest my hand on my stomach. I'm going to be sick again.

Leon must see the colour of my face change from flushed to green because he sobers up and quickly changes our direction; he leads me to the bathroom instead of the spare room. Before he's even turned on the lights, I've already collapsed in front of the toilet. My stomach does one more uncomfortable flip, and then I'm throwing up what's left in my stomach. The taste in my mouth is revolting and the smell is just as acrid. I feel gross and disgusting and embarrassed that I'm puking in front of Leon for the second time tonight.

"Hey," Leon coos as he kneels down beside me. He begins to collect the strands of hair that have fallen loose from my bun. He keeps his hand wrapped around the strands to make sure they don't get saturated with my own vomit. His other hand begins to rub small circles on my lower back. "It's going to be okay, Liz. Honestly, it's better if you let it all out."

"What a way to spend New Year's Eve," I groan in embarrassment. 

"Well, at least we'll never forget it," Leon jokes. 

Although I feel gross and wish I could hide under a rock and never have to see the light of day again, I also feel happy. I'm happy that I have Leon here to hold my hair back and comfort me, to whisper sweet, convincing words in my ear as I pay for the mistake I made.

I'm happy because the boy I love cares about me.

Because the boy I love doesn't let my recklessness taint his perception of me.

I'm happy because I'm so undeniably, desperately in love with Leon Saint-Laurent.