Chapter 124: Out of My League
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When Damien vanished into that wave of attractive, overly confident college students, I realized something pretty clear: I had really fucked up.
Like, an epic mistake. The kind that gets turned into stories and lessons for future generations who might think about going to pool parties with their impossibly popular roommates.
I just had to go and fall in love for someone dozens of light years away from my league.
Because while Damien seemed totally relaxed among what looked like half the student body, I was standing just a few feet away, feeling like an alien who’d landed on a strange planet without a map, any sort of translator, or even the basic skills needed to survive in this wild setting.
The music was blasting, shaking my bones. Colorful lights were dancing across the backyard, flashing off the pool where people were splashing around, laughing like they were all making choices they’d have to explain away the next day.
Everywhere I turned, there were groups of students yelling over one another, flirting and sucking face without shame, dancing barefoot on the grass, or making choices they’d probably regret by morning.
Someone had climbed onto a patio table, trying to start a chant.
Another person had already fallen into the pool, fully dressed, and it looked like they were totally okay with it.
A girl with inflatable flamingo rings on both arms was laughing loudly while two guys chased each other with water guns like they had some serious scores to settle.
It was complete chaos, somehow organized. The kind of controlled madness that only college kids could create without any planning, producing maximum noise and energy.
And through all of this, there was Damien, looking like he belonged there, like the whole scene was just his natural habitat and he’d simply been on a break.
"Young Master Lockwood!"
A voice called out to him from the left. Someone draped an arm around his shoulders. A brunette in a blue bikini laughed at something he said. A tall guy in swim trunks slapped him on the back, genuinely thrilled to see him.
Everywhere he turned, someone craved his attention.
And I just stood where he’d left me.
No one noticed me. No one was looking my way with any kind of interest. I was, in the grand scheme of this party, pretty much like decorative shrubbery.
Not surprising, really. Being next to Damien at a social event pretty much guaranteed I’d fade into the background (no issues though, I was used to it). He had this way of taking up space that drew all eyes to him, leaving everyone else in his orbit feeling unremarkable.
I shoved my hands into my pockets.
Okay. This was fine.
I leaned slightly toward him, trying to speak over the music. "I’m going to go find Joey!"
His attention shifted right to me...fully, from the middle of two conversations, in that way that I had started to suspect was more than just coincidence.
"You’ll be alright?"
"I’m just grabbing food."
A slight smile crept onto his lips. "Of course you are."
"I have priorities."
"I know."
"Very organized priorities."
"I know."
He studied me for just a beat longer than necessary, like he was about to say something and changed his mind, then nodded. "Don’t wander too far."
"I won’t."
I turned and slipped into the crowd before I could let those three words make my face betray me. Don’t wander too far, like he planned to look for me later.
Like he wanted me to stay nearby.
Dumbass, my rational brain chimed in. Stop reading too much into everything he says!
But the sensible part of my mind had been losing ground for months, so I didn’t really expect it to hold strong now.
Getting through the crowd took way longer than it should have.
Turns out, rich people have a different understanding of personal space, they just fill up whatever area’s available and expect everyone else to adjust.
I squeezed between two guys who were deep in a heated debate about hockey, narrowly dodged getting splashed by someone dashing away from the pool, apologized after bumping into a girl juggling six cups of something aggressively pink, and finally stumbled through the back door into the kitchen.
The noise went from physically painful to just loud.
"Oliver!"
Joey popped out from the kitchen chaos with the enthusiasm of a golden retriever who’d been waiting forever. He practically leaped across the room. "You actually showed up!"
"Well, you threatened me multiple times."
"C’mon, I merely encouraged you!"
"You said you’d show up at my place with an air horn."
"Exactly...encouragement with consequences if you fail."
"It’s a threat, Joey."
He threw an arm around my shoulders like it was no big deal. "So? What do you think of the party? Be honest."
I glanced around the kitchen, which was packed almost as tightly as the backyard, students raiding chip bowls, debating pizza toppings with way too much passion, arguing over which alcohol was the best, guy throwing up in a hedge nearby, and laughing at each other’s jokes at maximum volume.
"It’s..." I searched for words. "A fire hazard."
He looked genuinely offended. "This is the social event of the semester."
"It’s definitely an event."
"I’ll take it."
Maya popped up from somewhere behind him, juggling three different desserts on one paper plate with laser focus.
"There you are," she said.
"I got lost."
"You’ve been here six minutes."
"It was a very confusing six minutes. There was a hot girl with flamingo arms."
She rolled her eyes playfully, and glanced at me. "You look overwhelmed."
"I am overwhelmed, it’s a bigger party than the last one."
Joey gasped dramatically. "Overwhelmed? Impossible! This is paradise!"
Joey reached into a cooler by the counter and pulled out a bottle of fruit punch. "Here."
I took it gratefully. "Is this—"
"It’s non-alcoholic. I know you."
"Thanks."
"And—" he gestured toward the stacked pizza boxes like he’d planned this. "Food."
Yay! Now this was what I rolled out of bed for!
I snagged two slices before anyone else could make a play for them, and I felt the tension in my shoulders ease by about forty percent. Food was good...food was dependable in a way most things in my life weren’t right now.
Maya laughed. "You treat pizza like it’s emotional support."
"It’s never let me down."
"Unlike people?"
"I didn’t say that."
"You implied it."
"I don’t imply things. I state facts."
We settled around the kitchen island as the party flowed around us with waves of students looking for snacks, refilling drinks, or escaping whatever chaos was happening outside for a moment.
For a little while, it actually felt manageable. Almost comfortable for a wild party...so I just knew something weird was going to happen soon.