Was the room supposed to be swimmy? It wasn't unpleasant or anything, just ... swimmy. And a little fuzzy. And a little...
Wait a minute ... was that Robert Schwarner?
I saw him off in a corner several feet ahead and to the side of me. He was wearing that BeastSlayer cloak and nodding to the music. He turned and saw me with my beer, then lifted his chin and raised his Coke can in a toast.
I closed my eyes and shook my head to clear it. When I opened my eyes the crowd had shifted and Robert was gone.
If he had even been there. Maybe the beer was giving me hallucinations. Could beer do that? I didn't think so, but maybe...
I took another long swig. I felt really good. Who cared if everything was swimmy and fuzzy and hallucinatory? I was happy. I was really happy—until I tried to dance. I tripped sideways into a short girl in a low-cut, fitted tank top, and spilled the last of my beer right down her cleavage.
She was not pleased.
"What the hell?" she screamed. "Are you insane?"
"I'm so sorry!"
"Not good enough! This top is new! It's silk!"
The swimminess ended. Everything came into sharp focus as Silk Tank Top grabbed a huge handful of my hair and yanked it—hard. Was she on steroids or something? She was strong! And she wouldn't stop. She just kept pulling and yanking me in crazy-fierce tugs.
"Ow! I'll buy you a new shirt! Just stop!"
Either she didn't hear me or she didn't like the offer, because she kept pulling. She'd buried her other hand in my hair now, too. I was doubled over, staggering through the crowd as I tried to claw her off me.
Finally a bouncer came over. "Hey—break it up or you're both out of here."
The girl finally let go. She flipped me off, then disappeared back into the crowd.
I tenderly put my hand to the back of my head, convinced it would be gushing blood. It wasn't, but I had an unbelievable headache. Each beat of the music made me feel like I was being yanked across the room all over again.
Where was Nate? I didn't see him anywhere. Panic rose in my chest as I struggled to work through the ocean of dancers.
"Nate! Nate!" I cried. It was no use. Unless he was right in front of me, he'd never hear me. Oh God. I'd lost him. I was alone. I had no ride. I'd have to call my parents. How could I call my parents? I'd had alcohol; they'd smell it on my breath. And look at what I was wearing! And look at where I was! I was supposed to be at Claudia's! I couldn't call my parents. I was on my own.
"Nate!" I screamed.
"Hey!" he said.
He was right in front of me. I'd somehow stumbled back to where I'd started.
"Great show, right?" he shouted over the music, then turned back to the stage.
Great show? Did he not know I'd just been wrestled across the room and nearly scalped by a midget with biceps as big as her boobs?
No. Nate had no idea what had happened to me. He was only interested in the music. I may as well not even be here, as far as he was concerned. I felt like an idiot. I never should have come. Nate didn't care about me at all. I should just call a cab and take it to Claudia's. It couldn't cost that much money, could it? Maybe a cab would take a credit card...
I was halfway through approximating the cost of a cab ride from Philadelphia to Yardley when the Ruse swung into their first ballad of the night: a cover of My Chemical Romance's "Disenchanted." Three notes in, Nate sidled behind me, wrapped his arms around me, and leaned his head next to mine.
"It's our song," he murmured into my ear. Then he kissed my neck. My brain melted into nothingness.
Chapter Fifteen
Oh. My. God.
Every time Nate kissed my neck, I felt chills in parts of my body I didn't know I had.
And he didn't stop.
He held me the whole song, rocking me in his arms and singing the words softly into my ear.
I don't know what I thought. I couldn't think. I didn't want to think. I could just feel ... and it felt incredible.
When the song ended, he gave my earlobe the tiniest bite, and I almost lost consciousness. I wanted to fall back