Chapter 1
Chapter One
Nico
I don’t know why I let Alex bring me here.
Tomorrow’s our high school graduation, and so we’re supposed to be celebrating or whatever.
But I hate parties, and he knows it. There are too many people, and everything’s too loud, and it’s impossible to walk anywhere without bumping into someone.
The whole place smells like weed and alcohol and sweaty teenagers.
And it’s even worse because nearly as soon as we got here, he took off. I’m not even sure where he went. Maybe to go find Kimmy or Leela or that new girl who’s been hanging off of him all the time at school.
My stomach sours at the thought, and I risk a quick glance up toward where he disappeared to however long ago, hoping to catch a glimpse of his bright-blue hair. At least he makes himself easy to spot. But he’s not anywhere I can see.
The tickle of anxiety in the back of my mind just gets worse, and I feel a little sick.
I lower my eyes back to my clasped hands as my knee bounces up and down. Maybe I should just leave. Shoot him a text and head out. He can find a ride home later from someone else. I’m not the only one here who’s sober. Maybe.
I’m just about to stand up and figure out how to escape when I hear my name. But it’s not Alex’s voice calling me.
“Hey, hey, hey, Nico!”
My stomach drops. I look up, but only because I need to prepare myself.
A few feet in front of me, Brandon Jones pushes his way through the half-drunk crowd, dragging his latest girlfriend along with him. Nya, I think her name is. She hangs on his arm as he stops in front of me, and I can smell the alcohol wafting off of them. It’s almost as rotten as Brandon’s sneer.
He laughs as he stumbles to a stop. “Nico the Freako. Didn’t expect to see you here.
Where’s your other half? Off with someone who’s actually willing to put out?
” He laughs again, then takes a long swig of his drink before leaning over and whispering something into his date’s ear. She glances at me and giggles.
I don’t answer him. He’s not looking for an answer anyway. He’s just another asshole, like so many of the kids in school, and he’ll just interpret anything I say in some weird, fucked-up way.
From the other side of the room, the music kicks up a notch—the volume louder and the bass shaking the walls.
Cheers go up from the crowd. Thankfully, Brandon doesn’t seem to care to waste any more time talking to me.
He sneers at me again, then starts bouncing with the music, pulling his date away with him as they head back into the fray.
I push myself deeper into the small couch and look back down at my hands, trying not to panic. But I feel a familiar chill settling in me, my fingers tingling, as my heart starts to race unevenly.
Where the hell is Alex?
If he just wanted to come to this party to get wasted and laid, and if he just brought me along so I could drive him home after—
I shake my head, knowing that’s not true. He wanted to come because tomorrow’s graduation and everyone’s here celebrating, and he wanted me to be here, too, so I wouldn’t feel left out. I know that. Alex is my best friend, and he wouldn’t use me like that.
But the knowledge doesn’t help. The music is too loud, and there are too many people, and the smell of alcohol and weed is too much.
I need out. Now.
I lift my eyes, scanning the room. But I don’t see him.
To my right, there’s a slider door leading out to the backyard.
I think there’s a gate around the side. I can leave now, drive myself home and just crawl into bed, maybe even before my mom gets home from work.
Then she won’t have to be bothered to ask me how I’m feeling or whatever.
And Alex can find his own way home. Maybe with whoever he’s off dancing with or fucking right now.
A bitter taste floods my mouth, and even though the thought was only in my mind, I immediately walk it back. He’s not like that. He’s never done casual hookups, at least not as far as I know. He’s barely even ever dated the whole time we’ve been friends.
So why the hell is my brain telling me that he’s off in one of the upstairs bedrooms or locked in a bathroom somewhere in this much too large, much too loud house, getting laid?
I suddenly can’t breathe, and my heart’s jumping all over the place, making my chest feel tight.
Someone else comes up—someone I might sort of recognize, maybe from physics class. They offer me a beer, but I shake my head as I stand up. They’re saying something to me, asking me some question, but the words are fuzzy and I’m done enough that I just need to get away.
I start toward the back door, knowing I won’t survive trying to push through the dancing crowd to get out the front. But then a hand lands on my shoulder, and the world stops.
I screw my eyes shut, fighting against the panic rising up in my chest. Everything’s dark and cold, and I can’t move or see or breathe. And awful, stabbing pains seem to attack me from all angles.
I try to speak, to ask whoever’s got their hand on my shoulder not to touch me—fuck it, don’t they all know this by now?—and I try to get my feet to move, because the back door is only a few feet away. But I can’t. I’m trapped, and it’s painful.
Goddammit, Alex. Where the fuck are you?
“Nico! Hey, asshole, don’t touch him!”
“What? I was just—”
The hand disappears from my shoulder, and there’s some exchange that seems heated. I don’t listen, though, because I’m gone, scrambling forward toward the mythical back door on feet that still hurt and muscles that tremble. My vision’s blurry, but I manage to tug the door open.
The air outside hits me like a wave, and at least it’s warm, but it’s also ridiculously humid and stifling.
I suck in two deep breaths before I continue, my head down, away from the noise and people.
There is indeed a gate around the side of the house, and in only seconds, I’m there, fumbling with the latch.
I hear Alex behind me just as I push the gate open.
“Nico! Hey, wait up! I’m sorry, I was just—”
“I’m going home,” I cut in. I don’t want to hear about whatever the hell he was doing. Whoever the hell he was kissing or dancing with or whatever. I don’t want to hear it.
He reaches my side, and he doesn’t try to argue with me or console me or convince me to head back into the house. In fact, he doesn’t say anything at all. He just walks next to me silently. I’m not sure if that’s what I want or not.
My car, an old silver sedan that barely runs most days, is parked quite a ways down the street, and we walk the whole way there without saying a word. Finally, when I go to pull out my keys, Alex steps in front of me.
“Hey, um, I’m sorry. Really. I went to go find—”
“It’s fine. I just want to go home,” I say, and I skirt around him to the driver’s side door.
He doesn’t move from his spot, and I wonder if he’s going to head back to the party.
He can, of course. That’s up to him. I just want to go home, anyway.
But I stop, my head down, a familiar anger rising up in my chest. Although I know it’s not real, I’m also powerless to stop it or to control the tone of my words, which come out harsh and scathing.
“Are you coming? Or are you staying here?”
I hate that my chest constricts at the thought of him staying, because I don’t want to imagine what he might do.
My brain’s already been toying with me enough.
And it’s really not like I’ve got any claim to him.
He’s not mine, and he’s never given me any reason to believe he’s gay or bi or anything other than straight.
He can’t know how I feel, either. I’ve never even hinted to him that I’ve had a crush on him since we were in middle school.
But there’s also no way I can stay here. I shouldn’t even have come in the first place.
“I’m, uh . . .” He hesitates, and I can almost see him, concern in his deep blue eyes as he shakes his head. “You’ll be okay driving home? I kinda want to stay.”
I shouldn’t be mad. After all, it’s my own stupid ass’s fault for coming in the first place. So I nod, not trying to hide my scowl. “See you at graduation tomorrow.”
“Yeah.”
Without looking at him again, I get in the car, fasten my seat belt, and drive away, leaving Alex standing there along the curb.
It’s only when I’m glancing in the rearview mirror for the last time that I see he’s holding two bottles of water in his hands, frowning as he watches my car disappear down the dimly lit road.