Changing Positions (Brooks Haven Bears 3)

Chapter 5 - Freewheeling

Emily

My therapist doesn’t know that I’ve stopped my meds completely. Unwise, even stupid. I’m just tired of it all. f**k the consequences. I’m living my life. My mom has always been bipolar, but she had fun during her teenaged years until she met my dad, who steadied her. Kept her healthy.

Dr. Chen said that my condition is mild. I’m going to rely on that because there’s no way I’m going on a hot date with my meds cramping my style. I’m going to drink a hell of a lot at Stacey’s because I’ll be more likely not allowed to do that at Lance’s party. Not allowed sounds so dramatic and patriarchal in this case, but I can imagine it happening vividly. Those guys will more likely lock me up somewhere and throw away the key than have me party with anyone else.

Okay, it’s not really a hot date. Enzo is just one of Hans’ minions-s***h-friends. Though initially annoyed, I must admit he looks pretty handsome–okay, hot, with his athletic build, dark hair and brown eyes. I could do so much worse. I at least know him well enough, a better option than Dylan. So, I’m not that alarmed to see him by my doorstep. Then again, I’m going to keep my options open. Maybe Dylan’s not that bad. Maybe I’ll meet another guy at the party because I’m pretty sure Enzo’s only here because of Hans. I’m an eighteen-year-old virgin. Maybe it’s time to let go of the pesky V-card. It doesn’t matter who takes it, if it means feeling like a real college girl.

I’m wearing two-inch high boots. So Enzo’s only a couple of inches taller than I am tonight. Easy enough to reach for a kiss, and I haven’t even truly been kissed unless you can count the ones I have gotten from my favorite (with air quotes) Three Musketeers, on the cheek, of course, because I’m their “little sister”. There was also that kiss from about a year ago, one that had me reeling and fumbling for my meds. Mania can do that to you, make you float like a kite that thinks it’s a spaceship only to realize that the thread is too short.

“You ready to go?” Enzo asks, flashing me a grin. Oh, he has dimples, but he smiles evenly while Hans’ own is always slightly crooked. I grudgingly think of my constant babysitter as a good boy, always following the rules. His smile is the only thing that keeps him from looking like a saint or an angel. It always makes him look like he has an evil plan, one more likely I’ll be willing to be in on. I’m not afraid of him. Even after that kiss, which he has hopefully forgotten, I’m still not afraid of him. I’m afraid of myself.

I don’t know where that’s coming from. The only thing I hate about not being on meds is that my thoughts race, ebb, and flow. My brain has always been sharp, absorbing information like a sponge, but the meds have somehow tamed the stronger emotions. I’m not a coward, though. I’m freewheeling tonight.

“Yeah. You ready to babysit?” I raise an eyebrow at my bodyguard for the night.

Enzo chuckles, combing his black hair with his fingers. He looks great, and he knows it, which is pretty typical for most of the Brooks Haven Bears. He just may stop me from jumping the guy who has made it clear that I’m like a little sister to him.

“Well, it felt like a babysitting job at first, Ems, but damn if I don’t think I’ll be the envy of the party when they see you with me.”

My cheeks warm at the compliment. It’s more than the words, really. It’s also the way he’s looking at me, as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. As if he’s a lucky guy. I remind myself that not being on meds means I may not be reading emotional cues properly. Reading about my condition on the Internet is a masochistic rabbit hole.

“I’m happy you’re here,” I say, surprised to feel honesty in my own words. “I can’t drive, and I -.”

“You don’t want Hans to babysit you,” Enzo hazards a guess, nodding knowingly.

“I guess.”

I feel a twinge of sadness. I’m the one who has made it complicated. We have been close since childhood. Whenever assholes, Jason and Lance, bailed on me, Hans had always been there. He would have loved to be a friend, but he, his cousin, and my brother often made me feel suffocated. I want to prove to them I didn’t have to be taken care of like a porcelain doll. That I can find friends beyond our little “family.”

It was I who made things shitty. Point one: the day he had to help me because I was high on mari*juana in some back alley. He was the only one who saw me at my worst. Celeste and the rest saw the aftermath. Point two: a couple of weeks after that, I had a manic episode and kissed him on the lips just because he looked so pretty.

Even now, shame washes over me. I know he pretends it has never happened because he still behaves as my protector. He mostly protects me from myself. I still remember what I told him.

“So damn sorry! Hans. It’s you. I – “

He helped me by twisting it into a joke.

“Yeah, I know. If it were somebody else, you would have not stopped attacking.”

“Please forget this. Please forget this,” I pleaded, sounding like I was reciting a mantra.

“Forgotten. It’s forgotten.” He pulled away then. I can still remember how quickly he widened the distance between us. Even then, I was aware that Jason and Lance would give him hell for something that I did.

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s wrong. I’m sorry.”

“Got it.”

Through the months after the little incident, we have worked back into our usual kid and babysitter mode. I don’t like Hans Blom even though everyone loves him. I don’t like him because he reminds me too much of that one time I lost control.

**

Enzo and I enter Stacey’s large living room, surprised at how people are watching us. Staring at us. I don’t like it. At that moment, I crave my meds. They make me feel nothing much, and I realize they have been shielding me. Mom’s on a lot of them, and I wonder how it feels on her end. How does Dad stand it?

My eyes scan the room, walking at a carefully controlled pace. I don’t want to be too slow or too fast because I’m not sure how to behave in this situation. The party. Enzo’s fingers grazing the small of my back. Curious eyes gaping at me. It may be all my imagination but I feel all kinds of reaction from them–surprise, jealousy, irritation, interest. People talking too loud. Music blaring. A couple making out in a corner. Stacey practically grinding on Hans’ lap, where she sits.

“You didn’t tell us you were coming with Ems?” Ed says, greeting Lorenzo warmly.

“Hey, I’m here, too,” I say drily. The guys have a habit of doing this, talking as if I’m not there, and this time, I’m not here for it.

“Oh hey, so how did Enzo manage to drag you here? Do the big bros know?”

“It’s Hans’ idea,” I reply, catching the person in question looking at me with pinched brows. He rarely looks annoyed with me. He’s Mr. Sunshine, and right now he’s in his element, right in the middle of all the action. Before tonight, there was that only one time–after I kissed him.

“Ah. I can see why he needs someone to watch over you,” Ed says, laughing and wiggling his eyebrows. Even numb, little me knows what he means. He believes Hans sent Enzo to pick me up because he wants to get close to Stacey Green. Not that I blame him. She’s gorgeous. Annoyingly gorgeous. I feel my teeth grind together, but I force myself to look back at the two handsome guys flanking me. It’s weird to see them with me instead of Hans. It seems that Hans enjoys being in a trio, although Jason and Lance always treated him like a pesky little brother that they could take advantage of. But tonight, I’m with his friends Ed and Enzo, while Stacey’s practically inhaling him.

“I thought I’d never see the day,” Enzo remarks, shaking his head in disbelief. “Who knew it would be someone like Stacey Green he’d go for? I thought he would have a different type.”

I stop myself from asking what Hans’ type would have been like. I have been too busy worrying about how to deal with my emotions to care about what’s been going on with him. Been too busy running away. Now, we’re here in the same place and I want to leave. Again.

“Park!”

The voice may not be as familiar as Ed’s or Enzo’s, but I know who it is. Dylan. He saunters toward us, a red cup in his hand. He looks happy to see me, or he’s just really drunk. Maybe he’s somewhere in-between.

Dylan swaggers the last few inches, and I catch a whiff of whiskey. I know what it smells like because I’ve raided my dad’s collection twice. Jason got blamed, and he wasn’t even sure it wasn’t him. I can feel Ed and Enzo stiffen next to me, as if ready for a fight. It looks like I’ve gained a couple more big bros. I want to laugh bitterly, if not for the fact these three boys are all too close in proximity.

“Looking good, Emily. Wanna dance?” Dylan slurs. I’m not threatened by him. The sight of his disheveled hair makes me giggle. I can see Enzo glaring at me from my right. He probably thinks I’ve gone nuts, which isn’t far from the truth.

“She’s dancing with me,” Enzo says, taking my hand. I’m startled by this, but I reason he’s just trying to protect me from a drunk. I feel relieved and grateful, though. I wouldn’t want to know how to act with Dylan.

I didn’t even notice the music playing in the background until these two guys brought it up. Enzo leads me to the middle of the room, which is large enough for this party. I think about our house and how we can have parties like this, too, and Jason had hosted a few there when he was in college. I just can’t imagine telling my parents that I want to host mine, too. My apartment is too small for this kind of thing.

My racing mind stills a little when I feel Enzo’s hands on my waist. I guess the right thing to do is to put my hands on his shoulders. I giggle nervously. I bombard my senses with so many new things, all without meds. Crazy. Yeah, that’s me.

“I didn’t realize I said yes, Enzo,” I joke.

“Just taking you out of that situation. Dylan is bad news.” His tone is too serious for my comfort. I realize I like it better when these hockey players are fooling around.

“I guess I can figure that out on my own,” I say. The words are biting and automatic. That’s how I answer the authoritative guys in my life.

In the middle of the room, I feel like burning. It’s almost like people are watching me intently. Of course, they are. I’m the odd one out here. But I feel like someone in particular is watching, and I just have to look. True enough, Hans has left Stacey Green on the chair they were sharing. He’s on his way to us.

“Looks like someone wants to cut in,” Enzo says, softly chuckling. He’s trying to keep it light, but I swear he doesn’t look too happy about it. Suddenly, this party doesn’t seem so fun, anymore.

Hans taps on his shoulder, looking really pissed. Where’s Mr. Sunshine now? Enzo easily gives me up. Traitor. He glances back at me with a shrug, unsmiling, as Hans wraps his arm around my waist.

“You again?” I complain. “You’ve taken all my dances on my deb ball, and now you’re here?”

“What are those pills that you have to take, Emily?” he asks. I’m not here for an interrogation. So, I try to pull away from him. It’s the first time that he’s not letting me go easily.

“What are you doing, Hans?”

“I’m asking a question.”

“You’re not supposed to act like this,” I grit out.

“Like what? You’re the one who’s not acting like yourself. Did you take your meds?”

Tears threaten to fall. It’s my damn fault for doing what I always do–whatever I like. How does he know? Of course he knows. The Parks, Bloms, and Larsens are too close for our own good.

“Leave me alone, Hans.”

“No.”

He smells a little like beer, which surprises me. This isn’t Hans, my brain protests. I’m not on my meds. Not in control. If he isn’t either, everything will fall apart.

I push him and since he doesn’t expect it from happening, he staggers a little. I run toward the exit, fumbling for my phone. I have to call an Uber. Maybe I should buy a car now that I’ve decided to quit my meds, but the rolling emotions inside me seem to tell me that I’m not supposed to do that. That I’m not ready.