Free Swept Away by Marie Byers

when he doesn’t look away and ducks her head down.
    She’s always thought she’d had a type but the truth is there’s only Michael. That’s it.
    “Hey,” says a husky voice from behind, whiskey bit and rich.
    “Hi,” Amber says, mutters low and if he hadn’t been standing so close she’d probably have to repeat herself.
    It’s the guy from across the room only he’s not across the room anymore, his hand is hesitantly laying on her hip and his chest is brushing against her elbow.
    “I’m Ryan,” he says and he tilts his face and directs the words to her ear, pulling her closer to him.
    It feels nice to be touched this way; it feels like forever since there’s been a guy warm against her side, interested in her, wanting her, and she wonders if it makes her easy for wanting that little bit of comfort he offers.
    “I’m Amber,” she replies and her voice is already trembling. She wonders if he notices her hands shaking too and if he does, does he think it’s because she’s fighting sobriety and losing, or because she’s a basket case that’s always on the verge of tears for no good reason.
    She feels more like that last.
    “Are you a freshman too?”
    “Yes,” she replies after a pause. His hand trips over her hip bone and smoothes its way down her thigh. Her bare thigh. She wonders if she should stop him or let him and then wonders why it is she doesn’t really even care.
    “Where are you from?”
    She has to think about it. The last five years California has been her home. It’s where everyone she loves now resides… well, almost everyone. Can’t she go a second without thinking about Michael? His vibrant green eyes and his open laugh, the way he’d held her and touched her and whispered visions of their future.
    “California,” she replies firmly. She doesn’t want to get into it, doesn’t want to talk about her parent’s divorce—and the reason for it—or the reconciliation that fell apart nearly as quickly as it had been glued back together. Or the fact that out of all of them she would never had said her Mom and Dad would be the ones that are still going, yeah they’re in therapy but they’re together. Michael was her best friend, he saw her through every storm, its worse knowing that she doesn’t have him to turn to than even knowing she doesn’t have his love.
    And there she goes again. A simple question convoluted by her wayward heart.
    “What about you? Where are you from?” she asks, needing anything to distract herself from this misery.
    “The great state of Texas. Where everything is a little bigger than life.” The excitement in his voice makes her laugh and he smiles wide in response.
    “Hey, you’re almost done with that. Want me to get you another drink? Water again or something else?” Ryan takes the empty bottle from her and begins moving in the opposite direction as he talks.
    “Water’s fine.”
    He returns with a bottle for both of them, and she’s glad to see he knows how to limit himself. Not that it really matters in the end but he’s a welcome distraction that could quickly get out of hand if she has to babysit drunken revelry. So it’s lucky that he’s not drinking anymore and it has nothing to do with the fact Michael is the last boy she’s breathed in that scent of liquor burn and the steady warm kick of alcohol makes her think of him.
    Amber sips at her bottle of water, and stares off into space. Ryan seemingly content to let her mull over her thoughts at her own pace. It seems a little unfair how everything everyone is so lively, happy and laughing and enjoying themselves without reservation. She wants to be one of them but there’s nothing left but an emptiness that gapes unfilled and a hole in her heart.
    They talk a little more, she asks more questions than he can because it’s easier that way. She learns he’s nothing at all like Michael and that’s better, that’s good. He’s a middle child from a happy home, he only chose a