A Few Too Many

“This is exactly what I didn’t want,” Jess muttered, her face twisted in annoyance as she and I watched a couple of guys from our class cannonball into the pool. Water splashed everywhere, drenching the people sitting around the edge. Some laughed, some shrieked, and others protested loudly. Jess and I stood in the corner, watching the chaos unfold in her meticulously maintained backyard. Jess, being a bit of a neat freak, was visibly distressed by the mess they were making. I couldn't help but laugh, taking a sip of my lemonade.

We stood under the patio umbrella, trying to escape the relentless sun. Jess was wearing a dark blue spaghetti-strap crop top and shorts, with a net shrug draped over her shoulders. I had shed my white sundress and now stood in a yellow bikini top and denim shorts, feeling the heat on my bare skin. Both of us were barefoot, our hair tied up in messy high buns, and we wore sunglasses to shield our eyes from the bright light. Jess took another sip of her lemonade, sighed deeply, and shook her head. “This is exactly why I didn’t want these clowns in my house,” she muttered, clearly frustrated.

These uninvited guests were friends of Jess’s friends. Despite her initial reluctance, Jess had been too polite to turn them away. I scoffed and offered, “Do you want me to kick them out?” She gave me a knowing look, fully aware that I could, but also knowing she would never let me.

She chuckled, trying to ease her own tension. “Don’t stress about it. They’re adults. I’m sure they’ll stay in line,” she sighed. “And anyway, Patrick is here. I’m sure he’ll step in if needed.” She smirked, glancing over at her brother who was at the barbecue, grilling meat and chatting with his friends. Patrick was dressed in navy blue board shorts and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a few buttons were undone. He wore shades and flip-flops, exuding a relaxed yet confident vibe. For a brief moment, his eyes met mine. He smiled, and I offered a soft, hesitant smile in return before he turned back to his friends. This was our first interaction since I arrived, both of us were still awkward from our last encounter.

“Urgh, it is so hot!” Jess exclaimed, wiping sweat from her neck with a piece of tissue. “Last night’s rain did nothing,” she muttered, bringing me back to the night I was desperately trying to forget.

"Hmm," I absentmindedly hummed, lost in the memories of last night with Atlas. The intensity of our silent exchange, the way he tended to my wound with such care, and then how he pulled away so abruptly—it all played back in my mind. The way he had looked at me, and the way his voice softened only to turn distant again, left me in turmoil.

I glanced back at Patrick, who was now laughing at something one of his friends said. Part of me wished I could shake off the unease and just enjoy the day. But the weight of last night’s emotions lingered, making it hard to fully engage with the present.

“Hey,” Jess’s voice broke through my thoughts. She looked at me with concern. “Are you okay? You seem a bit out of it.”

I forced a smile, trying to reassure her. “Yeah, just thinking about stuff. I’m fine, really.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. Instead, she looped her arm through mine. “Come on, let’s at least try to have some fun, alright?”

I nodded, grateful for her attempt to lift my spirits. Together, we moved away from the chaos by the pool, hoping to find a quieter corner where we could enjoy the barbecue without further disruptions.

We talked and ate together for a while before Jess went to see some of her friends from her clinical psychology class, leaving me with some of our other classmates. The day was scorching hot, so I didn't eat much beyond some freshly cut fruits, but I did indulge in plenty of drinks. I started with lemonade, but soon it turned into summer punch, followed by margaritas and sangria. Yes, I drank a lot.

By the end of the day, I found myself in the pool, perched on some random guy's shoulders as we played chicken fight. My team lost the game when I fell into the water, and I was too drunk to get out on my own. Some of the guys helped me, and one of them was Patrick. “Dear God, you’re drunk too,” he muttered under his breath as he held me and guided me out of the pool.

I couldn’t help but giggle as I wrapped my wet arm around his neck. “Who else is drunk?” I asked.

Patrick sighed as he held my arm securely around his neck and encouraged me to walk with him. “My sister, who else?” he replied, nodding toward a very inebriated Jess, who was passionately ranting to a guy about a book she was currently reading. The poor guy looked extremely bored. Classic Jess!

Despite the dizziness from the drinks, I felt a warmth that wasn’t just from the summer sun. Patrick’s steady presence beside me, even in my drunken state, made me feel safe and cared for. As we walked, I leaned my head on his shoulder, savoring the moment but secretly wishing it was someone else's. The alcohol loosened my tongue, and before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “I wish you were Atlas.” I wrapped my hands around his arm, feeling the weight of my words sink in.

Patrick halted, knitting his eyebrows in confusion as he looked at me. I lifted my head and met his eyes, the alcohol making me oblivious to the gravity of my confession. “Why can’t he love me like I love him, Patrick?” I asked softly, resting my cheek against his arm. I pouted, feeling a mix of sadness and frustration. “Why does everything have to be so complicated?”

A long silence followed. I wasn’t looking at his face, so I couldn’t see his reaction, but I felt him stiffen under my hold. “You like Atlas? The Atlas you grew up with?” he asked, making sure he had heard correctly.

I chuckled bitterly, “The one and only,” I muttered. The confession hung heavily in the air, and for a moment, the party noises around us faded into the background.

Patrick sighed, his arm tightening slightly around me. “I had no idea,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with surprise and perhaps something else I couldn’t quite place. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

I shrugged, my drunken state making it easier to be honest. “It’s just… complicated. He’s with Eva, and I don’t want to ruin things.”

Patrick nodded slowly, processing my words. “Sometimes, the heart wants what it wants, no matter how complicated it gets,” he murmured. I don’t think he was talking about my situation. When I looked at him, he seemed lost in his thoughts, his eyebrows knitted in concentration. Once he realized I was looking at him, he shook his head to clear out whatever was on his mind. “Does anyone know about this?” he asked.

"Only Jess," I replied, my voice carrying a mix of resignation and tipsy humor. "She too believes this is a doomed crush, and honestly, I agree with her. Atlas is older than me, he has a girlfriend, and he sees me as a sister. Nothing seems to go my way when it comes to him, so maybe I should give up on this fantasy." I let out a slurred chuckle, gesturing with a wobbly hand. "But as you just said... a heart wants what a heart wants."

I patted Patrick's arm affectionately, feeling the warmth of his presence beside me. "Your sister thinks I just have a silly crush on Atlas and that I'll soon come to my senses and see that you're the real deal for me," I added with a tipsy grin.

Gladly, he chuckled along with me, shaking his head. He guided me to a quiet corner of the garden where there were people around but not close enough to overhear our conversation. “Does Jess know about us...?” His voice trailed off.

I let out a hiccup and laughed, shaking my head, “God no!” I chuckled, “If she knew, she would start planning our wedding,” I said, laughing even harder.

He chuckled softly, “That’s something Jess would do,” he replied as he settled beside me.

Silence settled between us for a few minutes as we sat side by side, lost in our thoughts. I found myself mulling over Atlas and the events of last night, while Patrick's mind remained an enigma to me. Finally, I broke the silence, my voice soft and tinged with guilt, “Are you mad at me?”

Patrick turned to look at me, a slight frown creasing his forehead. “Why would I be?”

I shrugged, the weight of my confession lingering in the air. “Because I never told you that I loved Atlas... even when we were dating,” I admitted quietly.

He offered a half-smile, his eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and sadness. “If I’m being honest, I knew you didn’t love me. And I think you knew that I couldn’t feel the same way for you,” he said gently. I nodded, acknowledging the truth of his words. That realization had been a part of why our relationship had come to an end. We simply weren’t meant to be.

Patrick sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I had a feeling there was someone else. I just didn’t know it was Atlas,” he admitted with a shrug.

“Do you think it’s wrong?” I murmured, staring down at my hands.

He paused for a moment, his hand finding its way to my shoulder in a comforting gesture. “Feelings aren’t wrong, Harper. You can’t control who you fall for. It’s just... complicated,” he said softly, his voice filled with empathy.

I looked up at him, tears welling in my eyes. “It just hurts, Patrick. Loving someone who doesn’t feel the same way.”

Patrick nodded, his expression sympathetic. “I know, Harper. But you’re strong. And someday, you’ll find someone who loves you just as much as you love them. Maybe it won’t be Atlas, but that doesn’t mean you won’t find happiness.”

His words, though bittersweet, brought a sense of comfort. I leaned into his side, grateful for his understanding and support. “Thanks, Patrick,” I whispered.

He gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Anytime, Harper. Anytime.”

Another moment of silence stretched between us. “There's no way you can drive back home in this state, and I can't offer you a ride just yet,” he said, glancing at his sister who was now laughing uncontrollably. “I can’t leave Jess while she's this wasted,” he added, then turned back to me. “How about we wrap up this barbecue now? You can spend the night here and head back home early tomorrow morning,” he suggested. His proposal made perfect sense, so I nodded in agreement.

He smiled warmly and ruffled my hair affectionately before getting to his feet. As he turned to walk away, he paused and looked back at me. “Oh, and Harper, your secret is safe with me. Always,” he assured me, making me smile gratefully. I nodded appreciatively as he walked away.

Once Patrick was out of sight, I turned my gaze upward to the sky, now painted in shades of peachy pink as nightfall approached. I remained seated, observing as people gradually started to leave. At one point, I couldn’t help but laugh as Patrick attempted to wake Jess, who had fallen asleep on the grass. He rolled his eyes and even sprayed water on her face, but she only mumbled something unintelligible, kicked her brother’s leg, rolled over, and continued sleeping. Some of Jess's other friends were also quite intoxicated, and poor Patrick seemed to be the designated caretaker for them all.

I sat quietly in the corner, still clad in my yellow bikini top and shorts, now mostly dry and unaffected by the humidity of the night. I lost track of time as I watched Patrick navigate the chaos of drunken revelry around the pool area. Darkness had fully settled in by now, enveloping us in its quiet embrace.

I felt an unexpected peace wash over me as I quietly sat in the corner, watching the chaotic scene unfold around the pool. Despite my drunken state, or perhaps because of it, I felt a surreal sense of detachment. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. It was in this haze that I noticed a familiar figure entering the backyard. At first, I squinted, trying to clear my vision. The man looked astonishingly like Atlas, dressed in a white collared shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black pants. He wore a deep frown, a look I knew all too well.

Blinking several times to focus, I tried to convince myself that it was just my imagination. But as he approached Patrick, who was gagging after retrieving someone’s underwear from the pool, the man’s identity became more and more familiar. I couldn't help but laugh at Patrick’s disgusted expression.

The man hurriedly approached Patrick, his voice cutting through the noise, “Patrick?” Even his voice was uncannily similar to Atlas's. Patrick turned quickly, recognizing the newcomer immediately.

“Where is Harper?” the man demanded sternly.

“Oh, Mr. Cooper,” Patrick responded, looking slightly taken aback. My eyes widened in shock. Was it really Atlas? Or was this some vivid, alcohol-fueled hallucination?

Patrick glanced in my direction, and as our eyes met, he nodded subtly. Atlas followed Patrick’s gaze and his frown deepened upon seeing me. My heart pounded in my chest. This was real. Atlas was here.

Patrick opened his mouth to speak, but Atlas ignored him, marching straight toward me. “I have been trying to call you for so long, Harper. Why was your cellphone switched off?!” he demanded, his voice laced with anger and concern.

I felt a swirl of emotions – confusion, surprise, and an odd sense of relief. “Atlas?” I managed to whisper, still half-doubting the reality of the situation.