My Favorite Mistake Read online

  The night was balmy, the summer not having loosened its grip on Maine yet. We all walked in a large blob, no one really in front. Luckily, the club was within stumbling distance of campus.

  “You won't have to buy any drinks tonight,” Hunter said, turning around and walking backward while simultaneously leering at me.

  “And why is that?”

  He shook his head. “Do you seriously not see it? Mase, man. Would you screw Taylor?”

  “Hell, yeah,” Mase said, giving me a thumbs up. “I mean, if you wanted to.”

  “Dev?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Sean also agreed that he'd do me.

  “Is that all you think about? Sex?”

  “What else is there to think about? Everyone thinks about it. We're programmed to think about it. Even you, Missy.” He stopped walking, and I nearly bumped into him. He grabbed my arms to steady me.

  “Let me go.”

  “It's on you, Missy. I'll be gone in five seconds. Just prove to me that you love me or hate me.”

  “Love and hate are completely different.”

  “Not really. They're the two sides of the same coin. One flip and you can be on the other side before you know it. I'll take either one from you.”

  “I hate you right now. What do I have to do to prove that to you?”

  He touched the bruise on his face that I couldn't see in the dark. “I'm sure you'll figure something out.” He turned around and jumped on Mase's back, nearly taking him down.

  The boys were acting like they were already drunk, pushing and laughing and being too loud. I stuck close to Darah and Renee, because they had previous club experience. I didn't.

  The closer we go to the club, the more nervous I got. I could practically feel the music pounding through the pavement out front. The building was small and had no windows. Several people smoked around the edges, and a few girls wearing clothes that hardly qualified as clothes stumbled outside, laughing and clutching on to each other.

  I rubbed my arms, even though I wasn't cold. We made a line, and Hunter put himself in front of me. The bouncer looked like he was probably on the football team and greeted Mase like they were long lost friends, doing that weird one-armed hug, back pat thing dudes do when they don't want to hug. He waved the other guys in and gave the girls IDs a cursory check.

  “Jay, man, how are you? Long time no see. This is my new friend, Taylor.”

  “Another friend, Z? You have more friends than I have socks. Nice to meet you. Be careful,” he said, laughing and waving us in before I could say, “Nice to meet you, too.”

  The club was dark, loud and hot, just like I thought it would be. The ceiling was low; there were too many tables and too many people. Lights flashed, nearly blinding me.

  “Let me get you a drink,” Hunter said in my ear.

  He had to yell because the music was so loud. I couldn't see a DJ anywhere. My eyes searched and finally found Darah, Renee and the guys at a corner table. They all had drinks.

  “Come on. Let me buy you a drink.”

  “Whatever,” I said and went to stand next to Darah.

  “You made it through,” she said, cupping her hand over her mouth so I could hear her.

  “Yeah, he didn't even look at it,” I said, shrugging. No wonder this place was always getting busted.

  “Lucky you,” she yelled back, sipping on her drink.

  Hunter came back moments later, shouldering his way through the crowd. He had this amazing way of walking, like he had all the time in the world.

  “You look like a rum and Coke kind of girl,” he said, handing me a glass. There was a lime wedge on top that I squeezed into the glass and then stirred it around before I took a sip. Hunter had a Coors Lite. Typical.

  I sipped my drink warily. I definitely didn't trust him.

  “I didn't drug it, I swear. I wouldn't need drugs to get you into bed,” he yelled in my ear. His hand brushed down my bare arm, and it took everything in me not to throw the drink in his face.

  “Go ahead, throw it at me. You know you want to,” he said.

  Bodies swarmed on the dance floor, gyrating and bumping together. Some had better moves than others. Some were practically having sex.

  Instead, I took a sip. The Coke fizzed on my tongue and the rum chased it, the taste dark, heady and warm. It was freaking delicious. How did Hunter know I would like it?

  “Is it good? I had him use the spiced rum. I figured you'd like a little spice.” Oh, bite me.

  Darah and Renee sucked down their drinks and chatted with the guys, who were eyeing the dance floor. Mase caught Hunter's eye.

  “Dude, these guys are amateurs. Want to show them how it's done?”

  “I'm in. Dev?”

  “It's on like Donkey Kong,” Dev said, and they all headed toward the crowded floor.

  “What are they up to?” Renee said.

  “I have no idea,” I said.

  “You’ll see,” Sean said, leaning back in his chair.

  Mase went toward the back, where I finally noticed the DJ. They had a word and the song flipped to Party Rock Anthem by LMFAO. Dear Christ, what were we in for?

  Hunter and Dev somehow cleared a space and as soon as the song got going, they started dancing. Not just dancing, they were breaking. Mase joined in and they rocked it.

  The space around them got bigger and people started clapping. Mase and Hunter had this routine worked out that was perfectly synchronized, complete with the worm, and all these spins and moves that I'd only seen in music videos. Dev was doing the moonwalk in front of them and doing these smooth spins on his heels and toes.

  For a white guy, Hunter could move. Like, really move. If I didn't loathe him with every fiber of my being, I'd say it was damn sexy. There was nothing like a guy who could dance, in my opinion.

  He did a turn and stopped, looking right at me. I couldn't tell in the swirling lights, but I swore he winked at me. Douchebag.

  The club was going nuts. Everyone was clapping and egging them on. Then Hunter grabbed Mase's foot and flipped him backward. The club exploded with cheering and hollering. They finished out the song and everyone applauded. They all high-fived and made their way back to our table, getting clapped on the back the whole way.

  “That. Was. Amazing!” Renee said as the guys grabbed their drinks and gulped. They were all a little winded and had a little sheen of sweat on their skin.

  “What did you think?” Hunter asked me.

  “Meh,” I said, shrugging one shoulder. “I've seen better.” I sipped my drink, savoring the rich taste.

  He just grinned at me and lifted his beer to his lips. “Sure you have, baby.”

  Now he was calling me baby? I ignored it and finished my drink.

  “You want to dance?” Renee asked me. The alcohol had started making its way through my system, making my cheeks heat and my head floaty.

  “Sure, why not?” I said, even though I was apprehensive about throwing myself into the chaos of stranger's bodies.

  Renee grabbed my hand in one of hers and Darah's in the other, and we headed to the crowded space. I had to tell myself a few times that I was okay, no one was out to get me and I was going to have a good time. The alcohol also helped. I wouldn’t normally have waded into a mosh pit full of strangers, but when in Rome.

  I didn't have many talents, but dancing was one of them. I let the music take me over and didn't care who was watching me.

  There was one set of eyes I knew were on me. Hunter's. At one point, I turned, swiveling my hips and dipping down to the floor and slowly coming back up. It might have been my imagination that he swallowed and his eyes widened a little. I'd classify the brief look that crossed his face as stunned. Take that, asshole. I smiled and grabbed Darah's arm, twirling her around and then giving her a hip bump. We danced for three more songs before we got too sweaty and had to get some air. I was relieved to get out of the crush of bodies. I’d had a few moments where the panic threatened to attack me, but I’d manage
d to slam the door in its face and keep dancing.

  The guys followed us outside, probably to protect us from drunken gropers. I'd read last year there were at least several episodes of unwanted sexual touching reported in the campus newspaper. Hunter put his hand on my back, but I let him because it was his hand or a strange guy, and I'd take the hand I knew over the hand I didn't. Not that I knew Hunter. Christ, I'd only met him this morning.

  Outside we stood in a cloud of smoke, but the air felt nice on my heated skin.

  “I've seen better,” Hunter said in my ear. His warm breath tickled my neck, and I moved my hair to hide my shiver.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out. Mom. She always texted me at the oddest hours.

  How are you, kid? Haven't talked today :(

  Good. All moved in. Drama city. Out with friends. TTYL?

  Sounds good. Luv u, Kid.

  Mwah.

  “Was that your boyfriend? He worried about you being out late with strange men?” Hunter said, trying to read the messages over my shoulder

  “Nope.” I wasn't going to satisfy his curiosity. I checked my phone. It was nearly midnight, and I was toasted from getting up early and driving from my mom's house in Waterville all the way to Orono and unpacking my stuff. And dealing with jerks.

  “You guys ready to go? I have to be up early for macro tomorrow,” Darah said, miming shooting herself in the head. She was an accounting major, but hated economics with the burning passion of a thousand suns.

  “You with Wesley in DPC 100?” Mase said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Me too. Guess I'll see you there,” he said, stretching his arms over his head. It might have been my imagination, but I thought I saw her smile at the prospect of seeing him again so soon.

  We all walked back to Mase's car and said goodnight to Sean and Dev. Mase said an extra goodnight to Darah. Oh, dear, there was definitely something there.

  When we got back into the apartment I realized two things. One, I really needed a shower, and two, Hunter and I were going to be sleeping in the same room.

  Darah and Renee said goodnight and shuffled off to their room.

  “Well, here we are,” Hunter said.

  “I'm going to take a shower,” I said and prepared for the comment I knew was coming.

  “You know what they say, conserve water and shower with a friend.”

  I walked past him to gather my pjs, not answering. I made sure to lock the door and made sure it was locked before I stripped and got in the shower. I wouldn't put it past him to try and get me naked. Guys like that were all the same. They took what they wanted and left you with nothing.

  Four

  When I came back from the shower, Hunter was in bed, shirtless and in just boxers, sitting with his back against the wall, guitar in his lap. It was a scene most girls would have swooned over. Between the dancing skills and the guitar, he could rack up plenty of attractiveness points. He plucked a few strings before realizing I was in the room. For a split second, I saw a dreamy look on his face. He quickly hid it behind a smirk.

  “You're all wet.”

  I didn't miss the double entendre. I tossed my balled-up clothes in the hamper and twisted my hair in my towel to squeeze some of the water out.

  “Not the kind of nightwear I was picturing, but it'll do.”

  I looked down at my oversized t-shirt and shorts. I'd thought twice about wearing a tank top and boy shorts, which normally I would have, given the temperature. I'd left my bra on so my nipples wouldn't show through the thin jersey material.

  “Are you one of those douches with a guitar, or can you really play?” I tried to keep my eyes on the guitar and not on his bare chest. There was another tattoo on his left pectoral. A four-leaf clover.

  “I only play if you're a paying customer. Although I'd take a trade instead of money.”

  Why had I even asked? I'd been trying to break the ice, but he didn't seem to want to. I went to my dresser and found a quarter that I chucked at him.

  “There. Now play, music boy.” I sat down on my bed and faced him.

  “What do you want?”

  I thought about it. I wanted to pick a song there was no way he would know. I threw out anything hard rockish or folky. He seemed like one of those guys who would be into Bob Dylan.

  “C'est la Mort by The Civil Wars.”

  He gave me a look like that wasn't what he was expecting.

  “What? Don't know it? Not hip enough for you?” He looked away from me and down at the guitar. He plucked a few notes. I waited.

  Then the song emerged from his fingers, slow and haunting. I sat back against my pillows, getting lost in the music. I hated to admit it; he played very well. He hadn't had just a few lessons last week. He'd been playing for years. He finished the song with a flourish and looked up at me. The dreamy look was there again, and it took longer for him to put it away.

  “Singing is extra,” he said.

  “You can dance, you can play the guitar, Jesus Hunter, what can't you do?”

  “I’m very good at a lot of things. If you want to come over here, I can show you a few more,” he said, laying the guitar back in the case. My throat suddenly went dry, and I had to swallow. His comments had been different when we were fully clothed and with a group of people. In this dark, quiet room they took on a heavier meaning, or at least they did to me. I was making too much of it.

  I sat up. There was something about lying down that made me feel more vulnerable.

  “I'm not sorry for punching you,” I said for no reason in particular. My hand was still swollen and sore, and I hoped his face hurt for a long time.

  “I know you're not. I'm not sorry you did either. Most girls bore me. You, Taylor, do not bore me.”

  “Thank God, I can die a happy woman.”

  “I'm not going to make a move on you, if that's what you're thinking.”

  I had been but I didn't want him to know that.

  “I never screw girls I like.”

  “That doesn't make any sense.” Wait, he liked me?

  “Of course it does. All relationships end eventually, right? So why not end it before it begins and save yourself the trouble?”

  “That's pretty fucked up thinking, Hunter. What did your parents do to you?” In my experience, guys like Hunter usually had deep-rooted mommy issues. It was why they could never have close relationships with women.

  “Wouldn't you like to know?”

  I got up and put my phone in the charger, mostly so I could stop making eye contact with him. Normally, my nightly routine would involve putting in my retainer, slathering my face with moisturizer and putting on an eye mask, but there was no way in hell I was letting Hunter see any of that.

  It was too intimate, too personal. Maybe tomorrow housing would be open to finding him another place. I would simply tell them that I was uncomfortable living with Hunter. I wanted to believe that I would have the balls to tell him to get out. It would have been so much easier if we could have taken care of this hours ago. Also if he hadn't played that stupid song. Why had I picked that? I should have picked something stupid like I Am the Walrus.

  He clicked his lamp off, and we were left in almost total darkness. The only light came from the small lamp on my dresser that I hadn’t turned off yet.

  “Just to let you know, I talk in my sleep.” He shifted on his bed and chucked something on the floor. It could only be one thing. “Also, I sleep naked.”

  I made a sound of disgust. I was definitely sleeping with my bra on, even though I'd have uncomfortable marks in the morning. I climbed into bed and pulled the comforter up. I was the one who felt naked. I swore I could hear his sheets rubbing against his skin. Damn, I should have gotten some earplugs.

  I wasn't going to sleep at all.

  I also talked in my sleep but I wasn't going to tell him that.

  “Well, goodnight. Feel free to dream about me naked and scream all you want. I'll sleep right through it.”
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  I wished I had a pillow, or perhaps something heavier, to chuck at him. Instead I got into bed, quietly grabbing my retainer and putting it in, hiding the case under my mattress. I wanted to pretend like I didn't give a shit what he thought of me, but honestly, I did.

  It felt rude not saying goodnight, so I did. I got a mumble in response. I lay on my back and looked at the ceiling. Even with the memory foam mattress pad, the dorm bed was as comfortable as a sack of hay.

  Hunter was breathing quietly, but his disturbance in the room was unmistakable. I didn't know why, but guys breathed differently than girls. Deeper somehow. I heard every single time he shifted or moved or twitched at all. I knew the exact moment he was asleep when his breathing became slow and he stopped moving so much. I tried closing my eyes, but it didn't work.

  I grabbed my mp3 player and put it on shuffle. I had tons of fast songs on there, so I had to keep skipping things. Usually, alcohol made me tired, but the soda had been a bad idea. It was too late to take my sleep medication, so I was stuck. I only had two classes the next day, and they didn't start until 11. I hoped Darah and Renee weren't too loud in the morning. I hoped Hunter wouldn't be too loud in the morning.

  I hit repeat when C'est la Mort came on and I finally faded off.

  *****

  “Taylor, Taylor!”

  A hand grabbed my shoulder, shaking it.

  “What the fuck?” I said, flailing against it, trying to get it to let me go. “Don't touch me!” I whipped my arms around and made contact with something warm and fleshy. A chest.

  “Jesus Christ, stop it!”

  I finally opened my eyes and assessed the situation. I was in bed, and there was a shirtless boy holding my arm. I froze, and he let go of me.

  “What are you doing?” I snapped at him, but it came out slurred because of the retainer. I spit it out in my hand.

  “You were screaming in your sleep and freaking out. It woke me up.” Shit. Usually when I took my sleep medication, I didn't have the night terrors, but I hadn't been able to tonight. Great, just great.