Wide Shot

Bottles of new champagne. Drunken kisses. Warm bed sheets. The smell of vomit stained the hardwood floors. It’s the definition of Ty and Oliver’s party. Oliver’s sweet. He’s like the Christmas candy you put out during the holiday dessert, the kind everybody loves and can never get enough of. Only it’s still Autumn. 

Carol Saks scoots by me, her posse of girls trailing behind her like lost puppy dogs. I make a face at Ty. He laughs a little till it hurts. 

“Oliver invited them?” I ask in shock, placing my coat on the rack. It stands simple along with the million other winter coats lining the halls. I’m nothing special. 

“I think they begged to come,” Ty said, dropping his jacket onto the floor. He’s different, he doesn’t care. If I could be more like that. The music picks up, it’s a boy band I’ve never heard of. I hope they skip this song soon. 

“And why would they do that?” I ask, watching as Oliver approaches us. His chocolate chestnut hair reminds me of an Almond Joy. Just like I said, sweet like candy. 

“Hey,” Oliver says, sliding up next to Ty. They put their arms around each other, embracing. I take a step back, not wanting to interrupt their coupling. I think Carol sees me from across the room. I wonder if she remembers ninth grade. Ty turns to look at me. 

“Let’s get a drink in you,” He says, pushing me towards the kitchen. It’s littered with alcohol, bottles that remind me of king size candy bars. I think my running theme tonight is candy. The tiled kitchen is pale, the white squares all lined up neatly on the wall. I turn to see Ty still with Oliver. I pour myself a drink. 

“Can you hand me that bottle?” A voice asks, turning towards me. I pause with shock at what I see. A man stands in front of me, his jet black hair spiked, with sky blue eyes that want me to fly in them. I’d buy an airplane right now. I hand him the bottle, watching as he gives me a smile. 

“Thanks,” He says, pouring himself some wine. I take a sip of my drink, grimacing at the taste. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the mixture of cranberry juice and vodka. Doesn’t do anything for me. 

“How do you know Oliver? Haven’t seen you around before,” The man asks, still begging to talk. I can see the light in the purse of his lips. It’s new, not something I’m used to. Guys usually walk through me like I’m invisible. 

“I know the boyfriend,” I say, gesturing towards Oliver and Ty. They’re sitting on the couch together, deep in conversation. The music finally changes, thank God. People dance around like it’s elegant, and someone spills some wine down the sink. 

“I do not,” He says, flashing me the smile once again. “I work with Oliver downtown at the studio. He’s great.” 

“Seems to be. I’ve heard some of his music,” I pause, taking another sip, trying again. I wince, not having any luck. I don’t know why people are so hell bent on drinking this stuff if it tastes so bad. Is getting tipsy worth the taste? Or do your lips become numb after a while? I wouldn’t know. 

“I’m Jason,” The man says, giving me his smile one more time. I’m such a sucker for it. I feel like he’s smiling with me instead of at me. I nod, beginning to walk through the apartment. Jason follows me.

“I don’t get your name?” He asks, coming up beside me. He puts his hand on the small of my back, the warm feeling settling there. Oliver is making some announcements but I don’t notice. Carol is kissing a stranger. I think someone else just arrived. 

“Not yet” I respond, finally setting my cup down. I think I’m doing myself a favor. I watch as Jason drinks from his cup. 

“Okay. Well what do you do? Can I at least get that?” Jason asks, his charm spiking higher on the meter. If he isn’t careful, the buzzer will ding, and I’ll be forced to give in. I look around, thinking of something to say. A vintage camera sits on top of the table, smiling in all its excellence. I grin back at Jason. 

“I’m a photographer,” I explain, settling in with my lie. He’s not Ty, so he won’t see the deceiving look in them. 

“What kind of photos do you take? And I’m hoping your answer says the ones with me in them,” Jason flirts, keeping his hand on my back. He walks us over the couch. I sit down, a cushion separating us. I can barely breathe with him so close. Yet for some reason I feel so far. 

“You need to work on your flirting,” I tell him, watching as I get wide eyes. 

“Tell me your name and I won’t have to try so hard.”

“I take photos with you in them,” I reply, ignoring his question. Jason chuckles, enjoying my jokes. He curls a piece of my chocolate brown hair, keeping it tucked into his fingertips. 

“I’ll get it out of you, don’t you worry.”

“Oh I’m not worried-”

“-Neither am I,” Jason says, smiling. I sigh, the music settling into some other beat. Everyone dances around, jumping arms and swaying feet. A couple is locked in the backroom. A girl doesn’t think Oliver notices she threw up behind the couch. Ty’s getting more wine. And I, for once, am sitting on a couch with a boy.