(song: "Cheap Thrills" - Sia)

Patrick was staring at everything and everyone. The whole experience was new for him. He wanted to try everything. He bought several glowing lights and wrapped them around a water-bottle. He marveled over the fire-eating performers, the knife throwers and the metal workers. Seeing the experience through his eyes instead of my own made it feel somehow more fantastical.

     "Come here, Jenn." He insisted on the two of us taking selfies in front of one of the metal-work sculptures.

     I stood beside him and pressed in close for the picture.

     When we reviewed the pictures to see how well they turned out, I was surprised by my own expression. I looked really happy. Happy without even trying.

     "I thought raves were all about just drugs, I didn't know all this stuff happens at them," Patrick voiced with excitement.

     I liked it. His enthusiasm was contagious. "Yeah, that's a myth. I mean, some people here probably are drug addicts, but they didn't get drugs here. It's basically like a concert put on by DJs, so most people are here for the music."

     We talked a lot, mostly about his family and their heavy expectations. Patrick revealed how his father was Stanford Alumni and expected him to become a sports medicine physician and take over his practice. We walked around the venue and sampled the variety of tasty treats advertised with bold, colorful signs. Every time Patrick bought something, like ice-cream, he'd taste it and then give it to me.

     We shared everything. It all felt like second nature, laughing, teasing and eating with him.

     The music was playing behind us. Pulsating blue lights in a sea of people waving around glowing blue-and-white lights. Their arms and bodies moved with rhythms like rolling tides. The closer we moved towards the crowd the more the atmosphere engulfed us.

     Before I knew it, we were moving and dancing with them.

     The crowd pushed and forced Patrick and I to dance closer to one another. Our eyes connected. Everything felt like it was in slow motion. We couldn't stop fixating our gaze on one another and we weren't saying anything.

     If moments could hold the weight of water, we'd have been the ocean. Everything felt so deep I was drowning in him. I breathed a little heavier. "I'm going to dance with you Patrick—I mean—really dance with you. Don't read too much into it."

     He still didn't say anything, he just nodded.

     Carefully, I rested the side of my face against him and wrapped my arms around the back of his neck. I could feel his heated arms surround me. The music and the people dancing made the very ground beneath us vibrate.

     Raves might have lacked drugs, but Patrick was starting to feel like my perfect flavor of drug. It was like we were slow dancing while everyone else was twirling and stomping.

     Patrick felt warm and safe. In his arms I felt a sense of security I'd only ever felt when my mother was alive. We still didn't really know each other that well, not really, but it was starting to feel like I knew him. Just in one day I learned that Patrick was loyal, an over-weight child, an over-achiever and a virgin. He was so much deeper than the rumors about him had been.

     I wondered if kissing someone in a way creates a bond or a connection between you and that person. Since that one action, it felt like we were magnets being drawn towards each other.

     I pressed my nose into the skin of his neck, hating and enjoying how right it felt to be with him. Everything felt right, from our touching thighs, chests and hips.

     "I'm having a good time," Patrick said softly against my ear.

     "Yeah?" I breathed onto his skin and tilted up my chin to look at him.

     I could feel one of his hands leave my back and instead move to tuck my hair behind my ear. He was so gentle. His thumb brushed my cheek and then drew down to my lower-lip.

     Our dancing had changed. I could feel tingles rush throughout my body in flashes. I could feel every tiny little move he was trying to make. I felt the strength of his need for me. I knew what was going to happen. I could feel the anticipation of it. My hands went from the back of his neck to feel his hair through my fingers.

     Patrick slowly edged his mouth closer towards mine. I parted my lips, ready to let it happen.

     "My favorite bitch is here!" Cried out two girls beside us who embraced each other.

     And just like that, our moment was over. I withdrew my hands and pushed back from Patrick. I felt disgusted with myself. I couldn't believe that I'd come so close to kissing him—again.

     I felt annoyed by the people surrounding me. I had to get out of it.

     "What is it?" Patrick asked me.

     "I don't want to dance anymore." I sounded sick to my stomach saying that.

     Patrick was close to me again. "No, what is it about me that makes you so scared?"

     "I don't know!" I shouted at him.

     I did know. I was scared of everything! I was scared of how he made me feel, but more than that, I was scared of what he made me want. I expected pain from all the men in my life, but I feared that if by some miracle I got close to Patrick it'd end with him corrupted and me broken beyond repair.

     I pressed my hands flat against his chest. "Where are you applying to college Patrick?"

     "Why does that matter?" He asked as his fingers reached up to touch mine.

     "Are you applying to Pomona? Maybe Stanford, or Yale? Brown?"

     "Maybe, so what if I am?"

     My hands dragged from off of his shirt. "I'm not going anywhere Patrick. I'm not leaving this place! My destiny is to stay here, working as a waitress taking care of my alcoholic father and paying down our debts. That's my reality. So when a girl like me becomes more than just friends with a guy like you, how do you think that ends?"

     "I didn't know that's what you were dealing with, Jenn. I'm sorry." Patrick sounded sincere. "But you are seventeen. Your life isn't set in stone. You can change it."

     I thought of my mother and my brother and their last few moments of life. They had been hopeful about the future too. Hope was more dangerous to me than anything. It reminded me quickly why Chuck was the better choice for me.

     "I'm not going to lie about being attracted to you Patrick. We're obviously and dangerously attracted to each other, but the reason I kissed you that night was because I didn't want strings attached and you're turning into a rope! I need some space. A lot of it."

     Patrick suddenly became a little colder. It was an expression that seemed so foreign. "I'm not going to push you. If you want space, I'm going to give you space. I will leave you alone, if that's what you really want."

     "That's what I really want."

     Denial. Denial. Denial. I was lying, but I couldn't stop myself.

     "Okay, I'll take you home then."

     We rode back home in silence. There was music playing on the radio, but we weren't singing. Every-time I peered at him, he no longer stole glances at me, he just focused on the road.

     I repeated over and over in my mind that this is what I want, this is what I want, this is what I want. . .

Chapter Notes:

Do you think Jenn did the right thing???! LET ME KNOW!

The chapters will change as I make edits! But that's part of the fun!

If you liked this chapter, or didn't, leave a comment below! If you liked it, please vote. THANK YOU!!