Wordlessly, Trent takes off his coat and drapes it around my shoulders. It’s big, and warm, and that’s enough for me to ignore that it smells the way his pillows do. Like his shampoo. After we broke up, I had to stop buying his dad’s company’s products because they always smelled like the last time I was in his bedroom. The time he almost didn’t take no for an answer.
“I’m sorry,” he says, bouncing a little on his toes as the breeze grazes his skin.
“For?” I shake my head, looking around for an answer.
“For how I treated you when we broke up.”
“When I dumped you,” I add quickly.
He sighs. “Yes, when you dumped me. For being an asshole.”
“Trent, you already apologized. Like ten thousand times.” A chill runs down my spine, causing me to shiver involuntarily.
Taking one step toward me, Trent rubs his hands over my arms in an attempt to warm me. “Let this be the ten-thousand-and-first apology then. I’m sorry Kennedy. You were always too good for me, and how we ended things just proved that.”
Looking up at him, I twist my lips. “I was too good for you?”
He nods, and his eyes are as serious as I’ve ever seen them. “You’re a good girl. Smart, kind, funny as hell. You deserved better than I gave you. I was just a stupid kid.”
“We’re all stupid kids,” I say in more of a whisper than I intended.
Get out of this.
I take one step back, but Trent pulls me in closer, still unable to take no for an answer. When his lips press against my forehead, my heart races more. I’m scared. Fears of this going too far, of the rules I’m breaking, and of ignoring how I feel overtake me.
“Please stop,” I ask soft but firm in my delivery.
Immediately, his hands leave my body and he takes three steps back.
“Thank you,” I say, handing him his coat and tightening my sweater around me.
“I’ve changed, Kennedy.” Trent stuffs his hands in his pockets again, and lowers his head.
So have I, Trent.
So have I.
I offer him a smile. “I can see that,” I try, encouragingly. “You’re going to make some girl real happy someday.” Turning on my heels, I reach for the door where, thankfully, I can see Mollie has been watching our interaction from ten feet away. For quite some time, given the stern look on her face as she eyes Trent.
Trent follows me, placing his hand on my lower back.
Please stop putting your hands all over me.
He doesn’t hear my silent prayer. Instead, he leans forward and positions his lips an inch away from my ear. “One of these days you’re going to give me a second chance, Kennedy.”
I turn my face toward him, so he can see my grin. “You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
He grins back, and slides his hand briefly over my butt before reaching past me and opening the door.
Reentering the party, I immediately make my way to Mollie. “I’m leaving. Are you coming?” It’s not really a question since we never leave a party without each other.
“Yes. Assholes are lame,” she bemoans as loudly as possible.
A few minutes later, once we’re back on the road and I’m thankful that the interior of my car appears pee-free, I let out a frustrated growl.
“So,” Mollie feigns disinterest, “did you have a nice chat with Trent?”
I puff my cheeks like I’m going to throw up. “He was trying to be all sweet and swoony and he just came off like the ass he’s always been.”
“And I’m sure it seems dialed up since you’ve changed so much, even if he’s remained the same.”
“What?” I whip my head toward her. “I’ve changed so much?”
Mollie shrugs. “Calm down. I mean … like … in this context. Come on, Kennedy. Sure you’re lip is still pierced and you let your hair do that messy wavy bedroom-looking thing you do, but look at what you’re wearing. You’ve worn less to church before. I’ve seen it. Sundresses, much?”
“It’s thirty degrees, Mollie.”
She waves her hand. “I’m not saying it’s bad. I’m just … saying.”
“Saying what? That my clothes are different?”
“And you immediately clammed up when we walked into Trent’s. You seemed insecure sort of, and you were staring at everyone. I get you were nervous that they’d be staring at you, but you seemed like you were looking at a circus side show.”
It’s amazing how a few months can change things so drastically. In September, it was my CU friends who were in line next to the Bearded Lady. Tonight, it’s my high school friends. Revealing clothing, underage drinking, and undiscussed drug use. What was once taken for granted in my everyday life now sits unsettled in my stomach.
I just want to go home. And, horrifyingly, back to CU to finish out the semester.
“Just don’t change too much, okay?” Mollie begs cheerfully. “I need my snarky best friend to make fun of everyone with me, okay?”
I force a grin. “Of course. Who else can I talk to about what the hell Tara is always doing with her damn hair?”
In a chorus of giggles, Mollie and I make our way back to my house talking about who’s gained weight, lost weight, and seemingly changed genders or sexuality. Mostly, conversations I never have with my CU friends.