Beautiful One (7 page)

****

The week prior to our birthday flew by. Between school, studying for midterms, and practicing for the church's Christmas concert, I hardly had time to think about anything else… except Aidan.

I hadn't seen him since the night we'd kissed. I tried to find him at school, but I never saw him. He didn't park in his usual parking space. He was never in the lunchroom surrounded by his entourage. I even went to the grassy area of the lawn where the popular kids hung out. No luck.

My final attempt to confront him was when I went to his house. His truck was there. I knocked, but he didn't answer the door.

By mid-week, I questioned if that day in my room had even happened at all. I was mad at myself for being taken in by him. Now I knew I was one of many. I wasn't special. My humiliation was complete when I received a text from him thanking me for helping him pass calculus with a B. I felt like a fool. My only consolation was I'd never told Melissa. At least I didn't have to deal with that embarrassment.

The music drifted into my room from the garage below. Today I would finally get some answers. He couldn't avoid me. I knew Aidan wouldn't miss practice, and I was desperate to talk to him. Spurred on by anger, I hurried downstairs. When I
opened the garage door, my eyes focused on the old brown couch. The sound of Derek's drums and Mason's voice swirled around me. I plopped down on the worn-out cushions and allowed my gaze to find Aidan.

He didn't show.

Leaving the garage, I went back to my bedroom, kicked off my boots, crawled into bed, and pulled my blanket around me. Staring at the ceiling, the tears began to fall.

I want him to be the sweet guy who opened up to me. Trusted me with his secrets and looked into my eyes like he truly cared. But that isn't him. I'm mad for letting my guard down. Believing he is different and for kissing him. What a fool I am… a stupid, stupid fool.

I braced myself against the wall and slipped on my black pumps. The eye shadow and three coats of mascara I'd applied made my light green eyes pop. Taking Melissa's advice, I let my hair dry naturally. The hair product I'd used took away the frizz, leaving behind soft loose curls that fell midway down my back. After I slipped in a pair of silver hoop earrings, I turned to look at my back in the mirror. I loved how this dress fit me and loved the crisscross design. But most of all, I loved that I had lost the weight.

Melissa came over to drive with us to the party. She and Mason were in the family room, standing by the stone fireplace. Mason was wearing dark jeans, an un-tucked white-collared shirt, and a charcoal blazer. Melissa wore a strapless teal party dress with a glittery-tulle skirt. Anyone else wearing it would have looked ridiculous, but sassy Melissa could pull it off. She was the perfect combination of cute and sexy.

My parents were seated on the couch as I walked into the room. All eyes focused on me. I would think I'd be fine standing in front of my family, but the attention still made me uncomfortable.

Mason smiled while Melissa scurried toward me. “Liz! I knew that dress was perfect. Spin around so I can see the back.”

I obeyed Melissa's command as my parents approached me together. They both hugged me. My mom stepped back, then my father kissed my forehead.

“You look beautiful.” My dad handed me a small box wrapped in pink paper with a white bow.

After I opened it, I locked eyes with my father. “I wanted to be the first man in your life to give you diamonds.” They were beautiful, petite, diamond-stud earrings. Classic.

With tears in my eyes, I hugged my father. “Thank you, Daddy.” I glanced over at my mom and watched a tear roll down her cheek.

“Happy birthday, sweetie.” She walked over and gave me another hug.

Mason lifted his arm and shook his wrist at me. “Look what I got!” He sounded like he was ten. My parents had given him a beautiful set of silver cufflinks.

After I exchanged my hoop earrings with my diamond studs, we headed out the door to the party.

****

The parking on Beach Road was already packed. Space was limited, so most kids had to park far away and hoof it up to Kyle's. After driving up the street twice with no luck, Mason pulled up to the front of the house.

“Okay, girls. Out.”

“Oh, Mason, I could walk.” I pouted.

“I don't think so, Liz.” Mason glanced down at my heels. “I'll be right back. I don't want to spend our eighteenth birthday in the emergency room.” Mason drove away, leaving Melissa and I huddled together in the driveway.

Even in my four-inch heels, Melissa towered over me. I was starting to get nervous.

Melissa must have sensed my anxiety. She reached around and gave me a side hug. “It's gonna be fun. Try not to worry.”

“I know. I think I just need to get in there and get this over with.”

“Here comes Mason.” Melissa smiled
.
Mason jogged up and kissed her on the lips. Then he reached for my arm and escorted us both into the party.

Entering Kyle's house, we were met with roaring applause, shouts of “Happy Birthday”, whistles, and howling. Mason and Melissa walked in with ease and grace. Knowing my face was beet-red, I continued to clutch Mason's arm to keep me from wobbling. Kyle and Derek were the first to greet us.

I released Mason's arm as Kyle gave me a warm hug. “You look beautiful, Liz.”

“Thanks, Kyle,” I whispered.

The next thing I knew, I was being spun around. Derek's dirty laugh echoed in my ear.

“Lizzie, you're smokin'.” He chuckled and slapped me on the butt. I glanced toward Melissa. She giggled and rolled her eyes.

Walking through the crowded family room, I saw several familiar faces from school. About sixty people were milling around. I only knew a few of them. No sign of Aidan.

This wasn't the first time I had been in Kyle's home, but the beauty of it had always taken my breath away. The family room had floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased a panoramic view of the Pacific Ocean. French doors opened up to a spacious wrap-around patio with steps that led to the sand.

I approached the kitchen and was met with the kind, blue eyes of Kyle's mother.

“Mrs. King, Thank you for all of this.” I motioned to everything.

“Nonsense, Lizzie. You know how much we love you and Mason.” She hugged me tight.
“You look beautiful. You've lost so much weight, and your dress is stunning!”

“Thank you.”

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked while leading me into her enormous kitchen.

“Not yet, but thank you.”

“Well, help yourself when you're ready.” She smiled and left me in her kitchen while several people filled their plates with food.

The aroma of garlic and spices increased as I approached the beautiful silver chafing dishes that covered the marble kitchen island. All of my favorite comfort foods. Mini pizzas, pasta, meatballs, and garlic bread. My attention focused across the kitchen to the dessert table. Cake pops, cupcakes, and mini-brownies. On a small round table sat a beautiful sheet cake with red, white, and black icing. The words
Happy 18
^th
, Mason and Elizabeth
were written in beautiful script. I knew I was going off my diet tonight, big time. I made a mental note I would run extra hard tomorrow to make up for the calories I was going to consume.

I walked from the kitchen to the outside patio and was met with a huge black and silver banner that screamed
Happy Birthday, Mason and Elizabeth.
Market lights were strung back and forth, illuminating the spacious deck, and several tiki torches lined the sand. The party was in full swing. Bruno Mars was blasting through the speakers and a couple of guys were starting a bonfire near the ocean. Derek and Kyle were setting up outside to play a few songs. It seemed like more partygoers had arrived because the place was packed.

I sat at a small table near a space heater. Melissa and Mason were mingling, but when Melissa caught my eye, she made a beeline straight toward me.

“Oh no, no, no, Lizzie, you're not sitting at this table all night!” Melissa grabbed my arm and led me to the makeshift dance floor.

She started to shimmy around me “It's time to par-tay!” She squealed.

Of course, I was mortified. What little I knew of dancing I had learned from goofing around with Melissa and practicing in front of my mirror.
Embarrassed, I swayed from side to side, praying not to fall. In heels, it was the best I could do.

Mason soon joined us with a couple of his friends. I quickly dispelled my own inadequacy while witnessing the spectacle of the two guys dancing before me. One of them moved in close and shouted over the music.

“We've never met. I'm Mason's friend, Brandon.”

I took a small step back, but bumped into someone. “I'm Liz.”

“I know who you are. You're the birthday girl. Wanna dance?” He smiled.

“Okay,” I shyly replied.

Brandon was a good-looking guy. Tall, muscular with dark hair and dark brown eyes. His cologne was a bit overpowering, but I guessed it was better than the alternative.

The music changed from one song to the next, and I realized I was having fun. My feet were killing me, but I didn't care. I had been keeping track of how many guys I'd danced with. Currently I was at seven. I smiled at Melissa when she and Mason were dancing intimately even though the song was upbeat.

I was laughing, sweating, and dancing my butt off. This was the best time I'd ever had.

Then my heart stopped.

I felt a lump in my throat and a pit in my stomach when I saw him, dressed in black jeans and a black button-down shirt. He was movie-star perfect as he sauntered across the dance floor. When I tore my gaze from him, I noticed the accessory that graced his forearm. A leggy blonde wearing a short red dress.
Figures.

I was torn between wanting to excuse myself and run or torture myself and stay. Foolishly, I opted for the latter. My heart twisted with jealousy watching Aidan gyrate to the music while his pretty dance partner sexually rubbed up against him. The pain was agonizing. Like a train wreck. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't.

Brandon had cut in when the last song had ended. The music had changed, and a slow song hummed through the speakers. Brandon moved in close. His shirt was damp with the smell of sweat and lingering cologne. He pulled me in close, but I backed away, putting some distance between us. Brandon's size blocked my vision from Aidan, and I was thankful. I decided when the song ended I was getting off the dance floor. The torture of watching Aidan and Ms. Red Dress had been enough.

I thanked Brandon, but before I could make it back to my small table, a firm hand gripped my elbow and spun me around.

“Dance with me,” Aidan said, sounding more like a statement rather than a question.

“What for?” I couldn't hide the disdain in my voice.

“One dance, please,” he begged.

“Forget it, Aidan. I'm done with you.” My voice was glacial. I snapped my arm from his grasp and walked off the dance floor.

Without glancing back, I heard the whiny voice of the leggy blonde, “Ai-da-a-an, let's dance.”

“Bump N' Grind” blasted through the speakers.

Oh, that's just perfect.

The adrenaline was coursing through my veins. I wanted to run from the party, but I knew I couldn't. In an attempt to calm myself down, I kicked off my heels and headed toward the bonfire. The cool sand under my aching feet was soothing. A group of kids were huddled around the pit, and in the distance a couple was making out. I stood before the blazing flames and breathed in the combination of salty sea air mingled with the pungent smell of smoke. The dancing flames of the fire mesmerized me.

Unaware of how long I'd been standing there, I emerged from my trance with the sounds of the crackling fire and the pull of Melissa tugging my arm.

“C'mon, Lizzie, I've been looking all over for you. It's time to blow out the candles!”

We walked back to the house. I could think of only one thing.
When will this party be over
?

Tonight was our last performance with Lance. Our congregation would be saying goodbye to the only music director they had ever known. Lance had been serving on staff since the church was planted three years ago. Spencer Hayes had been introduced last week. Apparently, he'd caused quite a stir. Everyone was abuzz with anticipation for him coming on board. Mason met him and liked him instantly. I, however, hadn't been able to meet him. Two days after the disastrous birthday party, I'd come down with strep throat.

I'd spent my first week of winter break laid up in bed, sucking down ice cubes and drinking chicken broth. Aidan had heard from Mason I was sick, and that's when the texting had started. The first few texts from Aidan had been innocent enough.

Hey, Lizzie, I heard you were sick.

How are you? Are you feeling better?

I deleted them unanswered.

By mid-week, his texts were groveling.

I'm sorry. Can I see you? Please?

Again, I deleted them.

At the end of the week, I could almost feel his rage.

Why won't you answer me?

Can you at least answer my texts?

Will you let me try and explain?”

Delete.

Delete.

Delete.

Finally, the texting stopped.