Chapter 9 What a Party

Kate Crawford comes at me with everything that she has. Her hands grip both sides of my head, taking a bunch of my curls in them, and her nails scrape my face as she let out a guttural scream.

I stagger back at the surprise attack, almost losing my balance. "Kate! What the hell?!" I protest.

"How dare you! I had nothing to do with those letters. Why would you tell Brandon Oh that I sent them?!" Kate yells at me, practically frothing at the mouth.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" I ask her, still trying to defend myself from her attacks. What the hell is going on? Finding my chance, I wrap my hands around her wrists, stalling her move to slap me. "Okay, Kate, just...calm down. I swear, I have no idea what you're talking about. What did Brad do?"

Suddenly, Kate becomes limp and starts to cry. I just stand there, still holding her wrists, not knowing what to do. "I know you never liked me. And everyone knows you have those boys wrapped around your fingers. But you can't just use them to get what you want. Especially because when they act, they can really make life hell for anyone." she garbles in between sobs.

My mouth drops as the thought comes to me. Drat it. Brad must've thought that Kate is the one blackmailing me and had made her life miserable. I cringe at my own stupidity. I knew I should've bothered him more about who he meant when he said he knew who sent me those letters.

"Kate, I'm so sorry. I swear I didn't make Brad do this. He just acted on his own. You know how stupid those boys can be." I say, "Tell me, what did he do to you? I promise you, I'll make him stop."

Kate sniffs, "He...he got Lia and Maine suspended so I have no one at school these days. Then, he convinced Lucien Laurent to not invite my family to this party. I mean, I don't mind. This is an old man's party, anyway. But still, I wasn't invited so I had to crash this party. And I never crash parties!"

I wince at the shrill in her voice, but don't dare interrupt her.

"Then...he...he told me he would pull me out from this modeling audition at their company if I don't confess. And I can't because I didn't do it. How can I confess when I'm innocent?!" Kate mournfully says.

"Jesus Christ," I mutter under my breath, already thinking of ways to get Brad in line. "Okay, Kate. Kate?" I say, getting her attention. "I believe you, all right? I know you didn't do it."

"Really?" she looks at me, surprisingly insulted, "How can you be sure? I can totally do something like that."

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I don't have the heart to tell her she wasn't smart enough to plan something as blackmailing me for a long time. Also, she might be clueless and can be mean at times, but I don't believe she can be that vindictive.

"I just don't," I tell Kate. "Now, let's get you fixed and I'll introduce you to the party, okay? And then I'm going to rain hell on Brad for being such a bully."

***

I don't know how I ended up here, sitting on the stairwell up to the roof of this massive hotel, with a bottle of vodka in my hand. But considering what I went through for the past hour; Kate attacking me in the bathroom because of a misunderstanding, Dina and Dave being all lovey-dovey right in front of me, and feeling conflicted about Seb not showing up to his own Dad's party. I can probably take a guess.

I tuck my chin on top of the bottle, my eyes falling shut. I wanted to get to the roof, where I always feel safe, but I'm already feeling tipsy and will probably fall to my death if I so much as take one step up.

"A?" his voice literally knock me off where I am. I don't know how anyone can lose balance while sitting, but I did. But he caught me, his hands strong as they grip my shoulders. I look up at him, letting out an embarrassing hiccup.

"Where have you been?" I ask him.

"I..." Seb says, searching my eyes for something I don't know. His wet hair is stuck to his forehead and he is breathing heavily. I wonder what happened. "I had to take a breath."

"For a whole day?"

"I couldn't see you."

"Why?"

Seb sighs, "Because I lashed out at you yesterday, Ari. I figured you were mad at me and didn't want to see me."

My forehead knotted in confusion, "You thought I was mad at you, and you didn't come to your Dad's party so I wouldn't have to see you? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

For a second, Seb looks taken aback, "So, you're not mad at me?"

"No..." I slur, suddenly feeling the urge to touch his lips, which are looking too red for me at the moment. Is he okay? Does he have angioedema or something? I meant to ask him if he had eaten eggs (he's deathly allergic to eggs), but what came out was different. "You're the one who's mad at me."

A pause.

"A..." Seb sighs my name. I feel the warmth of his hand around my fingertips and I realize that I wasn't just thinking it, I had brought my hand up to his lips. "I'm not mad at you. I'm just..."

"I wanted to say yes, you know." I suddenly say.

Seb looks at me incredulously, "Say yes to what?"

"To marrying you," I tell him. In my already murky brain, I somehow know that I'm not supposed to be just randomly telling him this. But he's still holding my hand and seeing him these days makes my heart beat a different way. I know it makes me sound mad, I'm still hurting over Dave, but Seb...Seb is...I can't believe I ever doubted him. He's the last person on earth who would want to hurt me.

I look up at him, reveling at the familiarity of his face, the alcohol bringing up unexplainable melancholia in me. I know he's just being nice, and I know I've been so difficult to him about it. But if I were honest, just thinking of how he offered to marry me makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. It's nice to know that someone is willing to take care of me, despite how unworthy I am. It's nice to know that someone recognizes that I have no family left now, and is willing to stay by my side.

I want to tell him all this, to assure him I am neither mad nor suspicious of his behavior the other day. I'm just glad he's around. But something is holding me back.

"Uh-oh," I whisper. Bile rises up my throat, to my mouth, and out into Seb's expensive dress shoes.