Chapter 30: Why Does Everyone Want Me To Kiss Boys?!
•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•✾•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•
Everything fell silent, as my brain needed a moment to process, compute and register what the hell just happened.
What...the...actual...fuck...?
For half a second, there was complete stillness, as if the party itself needed a moment to take in what had just occurred.
Then the chaos erupted all at once. The room filled with screams, and Joey, somewhere to my left, made a noise I had never heard anyone make before, before collapsing back onto the carpet. It seemed like an extreme response, but honestly, it made sense.
I stared at the bottle, pointed directly at Damien, as if accusing it of wrongdoing.
"There’s no way," I said urgently, pointing at it as if it was evidence of a crime. "I gotta spin again. The floor is uneven, that doesn’t count!"
The crowd responded with unified disbelief, their energy rising with one voice.
"RULES ARE RULES!"
"DO IT!"
"KISS HIM!"
I looked around the circle, meeting the eyes of all those delighted faces that personally offended me.
"Fuck no! Absolutely not," I protested, my voice rising slightly. "I’m not going in there with him!"
That only made them laugh harder, which was not what I needed.
I turned to Damien, trying to appeal to whatever reasonable part of him existed. "Him? Seriously? Out of everyone here? Do you all actively hate me?!"
Joey was in absolute tears from laughter, rolling on the floor.
"Oh my God," he wheezed, still clinging to life. "This is the greatest night of my life! I want to take this memory to my grave!"
"Shut the hell up," I shot back with utmost sincerity.
He gave me a thumbs-up, still sprawled on the carpet.The crowd started chanting with increasing fervor.
"DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!"
I turned to Melanie, desperation creeping in. Surely she wasn’t going to make me take part in this madness as well...right?
Melanie’s eyes widened for a moment before she burst into laughter, covering her mouth briefly, trying to contain it but failing completely.
Yup, guess I was wrong.
"And I don’t even like boys!" I added for good measure, fully committed to my defense. "Just so we’re clear."
She was laughing openly now, brightly and helplessly, and under normal circumstances, I might have thought that was adorable.
"It’s just a game, Oliver," she said between giggles. "It doesn’t mean anything! Just go have fun!"
Fun? Right.
𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎
Because being stuck in a closet with Damien Lockwood was where the fun was at. Clearly, I just hadn’t realized it until now.
Then, across the circle, Damien shifted.
And that somehow made everything way worse.
While I was publicly falling apart, Damien stood up with the calmness of someone simply getting up at the end of a meeting. No visible reaction to the chaos around him, no sign of discomfort.
Wait a minute...why wasn’t he as horrified as I was? Wasn’t he the one always keeping his distance?
His expression was exactly what it always was, cool and unreadable, as if he had processed everything already and had taken a stance before anyone else could react. The girls around him who had been fawning over him all evening looked distinctly disappointed that he was standing, but he didn’t seem to notice at all.
It should have been comforting that he wasn’t making a scene.
But it just made me more anxious because his calm didn’t make any sense. Things that didn’t make sense needed to be scrutinized.
Why wasn’t he freaking out? By all rational accounts, Damien Lockwood should have been just as horrified by this situation as I was. He had a rule against friendships. He had a dozen other rules that basically boiled down to leave me alone. This was the complete opposite.
And yet here he was, standing there completely unfazed, his icy blue eyes locked on me with an expression I couldn’t quite decipher.
Then he spoke, his low voice cutting through the noise.
"Let’s go."
Just those two words, calm and steady, like he was suggesting we relocate to a different part of the room instead of stepping into the closet that felt like a horror show in my mind.
Meanwhile, my soul was drafting its resignation letter.
The crowd erupted again, this time with heightened enthusiasm.
"KISS! KISS! KISS!"
Fuck my life...
"Oh my God," I muttered, covering my face with my hand.
Joey shoved my shoulder from the floor, still laugh-crying. "Go make memories!" he yelled.
"I’m going to file a complaint."
"KISS! KISS! KISS!"
I cast one last desperate glance around the circle, searching for someone, anyone, who might help me escape, but all I found were grinning faces reveling in my misery.
Melanie nudged my arm, her expression barely containing her amusement. "Seven minutes," she said. "You’ll survive. Probably."
I appreciated that she added "probably." It felt honest and spot-on.
Letting out a deep sigh, I pushed myself to my feet. The room erupted, whistles, cheers, and someone in the back shouting something I decided to ignore.
"GO GET THAT ASS LOCKWOOD!" someone yelled earnestly.
I nearly choked on my drink. No,no,no,no! There will be NO ass getting!
Damien didn’t say anything else or seem affected at all. He simply walked toward me through the crowd with his usual calm stride, reaching out to grab my wrist.
Firmly, warmly, like it was common sense to navigate through the chaos this way.
My brain, already operating on a shaky level, decided this was the moment to shut down completely.
His hand was warm, that was the first thing I registered, which I noted with an intensity that felt disproportionate to the situation. I was logging it like it mattered, which was unusual for me.
The second thing I noticed was how effortlessly he moved through the ruckus, pulling me along without any struggle as people howled and shouted advice that ranged from wildly inappropriate to alarming, and the crowd parted for him like they always did, because even in parties, Damien Lockwood had this effect on people.
My heart was pounding, racing in a way that felt completely irrational as we made our way toward the hallway closet, still lit by its ridiculous Christmas lights.
I glanced back at Joey, hoping to communicate the gravity of my situation.
He waved at me from the ground, tears still in his eyes from laughter, a huge grin across his face.
Complete traitor. I was reassessing our entire friendship. Someone opened the closet door with all the ceremony of unveiling something very important. The crowd pressed forward, that collective energy buzzing with excitement.
Then Damien pulled me inside the closet.
The door slammed shut behind us.
A loud click followed, definitive and final, of course they had locked it.
Naturally.
Darkness enveloped us right away, lit only by a thin slice of light underneath the door and the muffled noise of the party beyond.
And suddenly, with the locked door behind us and the noise of the party fading, it was just me and Damien Lockwood.
Inches apart, in a tiny closet.
I had come to this party looking for a couple hours of uncomplicated fun for a couple of hours. How, I wondered, staring into the darkness where I imagined his face was, had I ended up here?