Chapter 7
Crowded

Being stuck in a room with Robert Dale Waites is not something that I'm not wishing for, but do you know that feeling where you need to stop because you have to stop? That's what I felt. At the back of my head, I had this thought that finally, a time alone with the man of my dreams, but there's this part of me that said: fuck off, you need to get a hold of yourself and stop being delusional.

What do you call it when you have feelings for someone and that someone reciprocates the feelings back?

Imagination.

Of course it is imagination. What word would best describe it?

Fortunately for me, I didn't have to torture myself for hours when Dustin saved me from being stuck in a room with the person I have feelings for. As much as I would love to be stuck in a room with him and do things that anyone would beg to watch, it's not healthy for me.

Dale is like a very dangerous poison specifically made for me, making him my one and only bane, yet he's the only one who can give a cure to it. Maybe in a different world, in an alternative universe perhaps, he could be liking me already.

With nothing much to do but to wait for two hours before the party starts, I slump back at the corner of my room, arms around my knees while deep in thought. Dale has been in my mind for quite some time now, and I need to do something about it. He can't just keep invading my thoughts like it's his house. I want to live freely, too. It's like he's keeping me as a prisoner, and I can't do anything but to comply.

Sometimes I wish I had not enrolled into Sky International School. That would be the root cause of evil. If I had not enrolled at that school, I wouldn't have met Gloss, which would result to me not meeting Robert Dale Waites. I wouldn't have seen how beautiful his eyes are, or how almost perfect he is to me, or how cute his lips curve when he smiles.

There's a honk outside, and my neighbor just across from my house is constantly shouting about the kids ruining her garden. That's her weekly routine. The old lady living just across from my home is snarky and mean. She's living with her daughter and her daughter's husband, and I feel bad for them. Though I haven't personally met her, with one glance, I already know what attitude she has, and that's an unusual attitude for old ladies. Still, I mute the car's constant honks and the old lady's voice from entering in my ears just so I could focus myself into thinking that Dale is really bad for my health. He's bad for my health, and he will never be good for me. I strongly believe that there's someone out there, a girl that he will desire most, who's waiting for his arrival.

The violet hue is spreading across the sky, revealing the twinkling bright stars that I watch at almost every night whenever I feel dejected and low. Standing up and pulling the curtains to close the visibility of my room from the outside, I decide to go downstairs into the kitchen to feed myself. I'm going at a party, and it means that drinks and booze will be served there more rather than foods. My father's feet are rested on the coffee table while his arm is laid out on the outside back of the couch, while watching news about the murder of three persons at a convenience store.

Shaking my head at the news, I head into the kitchen and search for anything to eat inside the fridge. I found a couple of slices pizza, which I think Melody has left. Girls her age, they are vegetarians and she loves pizza. She's a pizza-hogger. I think I've mentioned that already. Grabbing a few slices of the Hawaiian pizza and putting them on a plate, I put them on a microwave and set a timer for a minute. Waiting impatiently, I tap my foot on the ground and sigh as a minute seems to stretch out further.

Once the microwave dings, I open the microwave and get the plate of pizzas, and I groan when the pads of my finger make contact with the hot surface of the plate. I pull my hand back, glaring at the plate and sighing at myself for being childish. I wait impatiently for a few more seconds before grabbing the plate and heading into the kitchen to join my father.

My father looks at my direction, looking at the plate of pizzas in my hand and he scoots to the left, offering a seat and I take a seat beside him. I offer him pizza, and he takes a slice and a bite, munching happily. "So... how's school?" he says while his mouth is full. If mother were here, she would have slapped the back of my father's head. "Your cousin told me that there's some guy that is interested on you."

His voice holds no emotion, and that terrifies me even more. If you are gay, and you have parents who have fully accepted you for who you are, they're going to be so overprotective of you, even more so than your sister. I look at him, shaking my head. I'm going to kill Melody for telling my father about Dustin. My father rolls his eyes, but doesn't say anything, but I can feel that he would like to pry more, to ask me more about some guy that is interested on me. "Psh, don't mind Melody. So what if someone is interested on me, I don't care." All I want to be attracted to me is no other than Robert Dale Waites. Not going to happen.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," my father says as he takes another bite of his pizza. "You're a terrible liar just like me." He chuckles, shaking his head. A bit piece of pizza lands on his lap and I make a face at him, grossed out and he rolls his eyes at me. Men.

My father and I haven't really talked much as I keep growing old, but it doesn't mean that he doesn't have my back. He makes sure that he's always by my side no matter what, and even though silence keeps greeting us whenever we're alone or together, doesn't mean it's bad. We like to have each other's comfort, and I'm happy and grateful that he is my father. I may not speak it out loud, but I'm proud to call him as my father who raised me well together with mom.

We just watch news, catching up with what's going on around the world. My father has a hectic schedule, and the only way he catches up to news is by reading newspaper in the morning just before he goes to work and that's it. My father is a businessman here in America; the reason why we moved here from France, it is because his business is here.

Checking the time, it's already 7:46 in the evening and the party won't start not until 9pm, but I already feel the people swarming up inside and already dancing to the beat of the music blaring through the speaker. I leave my father alone, telling him that I'll be in a friend's house (because really, I don't want him getting worried about my being) rather than telling him I'll be in a party.

I know my father. He would give me the talk, and I simply not want to hear that. He'd give me the sex education, telling me that condom must be always present and be worn always, things like that. He even uses the term barebacking whenever we get to the topic where it really gets intimate and I hate that. It's embarrassing for me to hear that term, and he always uses it on me.

Going inside my room, I immediately head to the bathroom, stripping my clothes off me and then stepping into the shower.

The party is in its full swing. People are milling around, their bodies swaying to the left and right as the music blasts through the speaker, the sound reaching at the very back of the house. Red cups are everywhere, from the hands of the slightly drunk teenagers to the floor, scattered everywhere. My eyes adjust to the dimness of the room as rays of various colors explode around the room. Squeezing my way into the crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of his dirty blonde hair, there's no sight of him around the area. Turning around, I recognize a few faces – Gloss, Kaila, Derek (who hasn't even texted me!), Homer, and Dale. And of course, Lilith. He has his arm around Lilith's shoulder, and girls are openly eyeing him like he's a piece of meat that they need to consume. Of course Dale is a piece of meat everyone wants to consume, even me. My eyes linger on Dale for a few moment before turning away. If I look at him, I feel like I'm just going to waste my time. There's this voice in the back of my head that says I should go and walk up to him, talk like nothing has happened, and hit on him, but I can't do that. It's going to be the death of me.

They haven't noticed me, and I'm glad for that. What happened earlier flashes inside my head, replaying like a movie, in vivid manner. He was annoyed, I could tell. But I convinced myself that it was just my head playing tricks on me. I was – am – foolish.

I keep squeezing my way in, not bothering to the sweaty skin colliding with mine. I make a face at the dancing crowd, but never make any disgusting comment about it. I need to get out of this room because I feel like I'm suddenly claustrophobic. As much as I want to watch Dale even from afar, I can't bear to look at them being together. I feel pathetic, but I'm not going to drown myself. When I get outside, the pool is filled with girls in two pieces, splashing water with some dudes and girls.

Finally my eyes focus on the dirty blonde hair man, tattooed arm showing, and he's drinking Cola. A beer or any sort of alcohol cannot be found around him. I feel a grin creeps its way into my lips, and my feet immediately move on its own accord, as if it has a mind of its own.

His eyes meet mine, and it holds a glint in it, and it sparkles as his eyes meet mine. He immediately stands up, forgetting that he even has a coke in his hand as he lets go of it, the can landing on the ground with a loud thud. "Hi," he immediately wipes his hand on his jeans, offering his hand to me and I shake my head, amusement evident in my face.

"Hello," I reply back, chuckling. He chuckles along with me. I shake his hand like we have just met at a bar and he's hitting on me obviously and I'm liking it. "How long have you been here?"

Dustin looks back on the seat he was sitting on and says, "Just a while." Alcohol doesn't linger in his breath, and it means that he hasn't been drinking. He might have sipped a couple of drinks, I don't know, but I have this gut feeling that he hasn't consumed alcohol yet. Usually when people arrive at a party, the first thing they would do is greet while they go get an alcohol. I admit, I was expecting a red cup in his hand filled with beer but only to find a different red object in his hand, which was the Cola can. "You want anything to drink? Orange juice, um, mango juice, or Milo shake, or Cola?" He doesn't offer me beers or any alcoholic drinks, and a grin spreads my features. He's really a good guy.

"Milo shake will do," I say, that amusement still spreading across my features. I don't know where he'd get a Milo shake, but since he offered, he should know that there's a stock available. We head into the kitchen, where a two horny teenagers are making-out rather heavily and I feel uncomfortably just looking at them, and the fact that it's a boy and girl are not helping the situation at all. The girl's top is pulled up, revealing her smooth white skin as the boy's hand roams freely around her body like she's a Buddha. I fight the urge to make a face, but seeing Dustin's amused expression, I do though.

Dustin moves in the kitchen like he owns it. He opens up a cabinet to grab a jar of powdered Milo and sugar. He puts it on the counter, completely ignoring the two teenagers who are shoving tongue down each other's throat. He moves to the side, bending down to get a few crushed ice. He plugs the blender into the wall, and pours the crushed ice, powdered Milo, and two spoonful of white sugar, and head into the fridge, getting a milk and pouring it into the blender.

I want to move out of here, or rather, I want the two teenagers who are basically having sex right in front of us out of the room. But this is not my house. Dustin moves hastily, probably sensing that I don't want to stay in this room. He knows how I'm uncomfortable I am, but it's not his fault. If I could just have the authority to kick these two horny teenagers out the house, I would totally do so.

The sound of the blender turning on jolts the two, and it makes Dustin grin in amusement as he ignores them both. The two curses, throwing a glare at Dustin's direction and they get out, leaving us alone in the room. He stops the blender, grinning widely at me. "You've done that on purpose."

"What?" he asks, feigning innocence as he makes himself appear clueless, and then he chuckles. I roll my eyes at him playfully, laughing along with him while shaking my head. The sound of blender being turned on makes me look up at him, and then he says, "Done."

Dustin grabs two empty glass and the blender, tipping it slightly and pouring the contents into the glasses. He offers one to me, and when I wrap my fingers around the glass, shivers go down my spine. It's unusual of me to sip cold drinks at night, but hey, the party is in full swing, which means everyone is hot and bothered. Except me, and well, I think, Dustin.

Taking a sip, the sweet taste of chocolate shake soothes my taste buds, and I give him a thumbs up, and he grins my way, winking at me. We head out of the kitchen and see the basketball players sitting on a long couch, throwing red cups while laughing and goofing around. From the corner of my eyes, I see Dale and Lilith dancing rather intimately, and I feel the tug in my heart. Not in a good way, but jealousy.

"Would you like to dance?" he asks me, offering his hand at me, which I gladly take. I don't care whether we have Milo shakes in our hands, we just squeeze into the crowd until we get to the center of the room and begin dancing. "This is fun."

"Yeah," I agree, nodding my head to the beat. I can feel someone is staring right at me, its eyes burning the back of my head like a laser, but I ignore it as much as possible and focus on the boy in front of me. Chuckling, Dustin rests his palms on my hips, and it burns my skin, even though there's a thick fabric, a shield that protects my skin from his touch. "Never knew how dancing could be this fun while we have a Milo shake in our hands instead of booze or beer."

He doesn't respond. Instead, I feel his body against mine. With that contact, I feel my heart constricting, seemingly having a lack of air. He presses into my body, and our chest and stomach are colliding, as well as our legs and groins. I gulp, but never dare to move my eyes away from his.

Suddenly, I'm knocked out and I fall on the ground. Dustin seems confused as I am, trying to find the culprit that has knocked me down on the ground. It was just a bump on the shoulder, but it was hard and intentional. Dustin helps me stand up, offering his hand at me and I gladly take it, cursing under my breath. A few people have paid us attention, but they go back to dancing once they realize that I'm okay and nothing harm has happened to me. The Milo shake in my hand is on the ground, contents spilled all over the ground and I curse rather loudly. Dustin gives me a worried look, but I brush it off as I tell him that I'm okay.

"I'll just go to the bathroom," I say to him, and Dustin nods at me, but the worried look in his eyes never fades away as he watches me walk away to find a bathroom. When I find the bathroom, I quickly head inside and see that it's empty. Locking the door, I rest my hands on the sink, staring at myself in the mirror. My hair is sticking up everywhere, and I notice that the bottom part of my shirt is soaked with the Milo shake. Exasperating, I watch myself in the mirror. "When did we get so intimate?"

I question myself, but there's no answer to that question.