Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
RYE
“Is this a party or a funeral, Rowen?”
Mac appears by my side, amber liquor in his glass, and Ember hanging off his arm.
They’ve opted for red outfits tonight, Ember in a lace dress and Mac in a silk robe. They match the glow of light shining down on the room in front of me as I sit on my throne at the top of it all. A bottle hangs between my fingers in my right hand, a joint in my left, but I'm far from festive.
Mac's mansion is lavish and dark. A gothic example of affluence. It's also a reminder that I lost control. To my friends, this is the best Crimson Party I’ve thrown. To me, the music is too fast, the decor is off, and the venue is wrong. Hosting at Mac’s place was the last thing I wanted.
I’m meant to be the host of honour, but instead, I'm a tortured guest.
“Leave him alone," Ember says, stealing Mac's glass, a slur in her voice. "He’s heartbroken."
My eyes narrow, Ember more confident than I like when she's under the influence.
“Heartbroken?” Mac repeats with a laugh. “He's throwing the party of the century. I never had the patience to pull this off. There’s even famous alumni.” His head comes next to mine. “So what the fuck could have you heartbroken, Rowen?”
“I’m not…” My voice trails, seeing a girl with shiny dark hair enter the party in a trench coat and high heels. But when she turns around, scanning the crowd, I sit back in my seat. “I’m fine.”
Get it together.
“Why the long face then?” Gray joins us in the closed-off section we created on top of Mac’s grand staircase.
It overlooks everything. I can see every wink a girl sends me.
I can see how the finest SBU ladies position themselves dancing, hoping one of us sets our eyes on them. “Someone break your heart?”
“What are you guys on?” Taking a swig of gin, I chase it with a puff of my joint. The piney alcohol mixing with burning plant matter only reminds me of Hannah in my mother’s studio. That makes me take another long drink.
“Are you sure you’re not heartbroken?” Ember presses. “‘Cause there’s one thing that’s different, and it’s Hannah.”
“My sister’s gone.” I make sure my words land hard so she backs down. “That’s also different, Ember.”
“No disrespect, Butterfly,” Mac says. “They fucked. It’s not that deep. Right, Rowen?” He says the last bit like a threat. Like he knows I didn’t heed his warning.
“Oh, it’s deep,” Ember says. “They’ve been going at it since I got here.
Remember the photos? The gallery?” My jaw works.
She’s starting to annoy me, but if I let the wrong word slip, Mac will never let me live it down.
“Hannah was a mess after I took her to his place. Don’t tell her I told you, but she cried the entire way home. ”
A burn fills my chest, my eyes moving to Ember’s before her weird green eyes hit mine. She searches my face like she’s trying to read me, but that won’t work. “Am I meant to care?”
“Don’t you?” Why is she coming at me this hard? “You’re not even hosting your own party. You’re sitting here like a pathetic—”
“Mac,” I cut her off, bringing the bottle to my lips again. “I need a moment with your girlfriend.” I try to remind her of her place, choosing my words carefully.
But I can feel Mac’s glare. “Why the fuck would you want to talk to my girl, Rowen?”
“You have nothing to worry about, you have my word. She’s yours and yours only. I don’t cross that line.”
“Crossed that line with Coach,” he says.
My fingers tighten around the bottle. “That’s different. I’d never go there. I just… need a fucking word.”
“Tough.” He laughs. “No way are you having a private conv—”
“Mac, just give us a minute,” Ember cuts in. “Please.” Silence comes between them before Ember whispers something in his ear.
The muscles in his neck relax before he turns his attention back to me. “I’ll be watching. If anything happens, I’m slamming a fist through that mug, Rowen.”
“Don’t worry,” Ember says. “I’m not the one he’s in love with.”
“You’re full of shit, Ember. That’s not true.” It’s not until I stand do I realize how much gin is in my system, the room tilting when I move towards the stairs. Ember moves with me, and when I glance back, Mac glares at us over the railing.
“Then why’s that bottle half gone?” She takes the joint from my hand. “It hasn’t been that long since I saw you crack it.”
“You’re new here, but drinking a half bottle of gin at a party isn’t unheard of in The Hill.”
“Sure, but you’re telling me if you weren’t bothered about Hannah, you wouldn’t be whipping that girl with your belt?
” Ember uses the joint to point at a redhead with giant tits in the corner of the room, her arms strapped to an X-cross.
“Or have that girl bent over a bench?” She turns my attention to a girl from the volleyball team in nothing but a red bikini.
She’s spread-eagled with a vibrator between her legs. Pretty, but it does nothing for me.
Walking through the double doors to Mac’s yard, the chill of the air hardly soothes whatever the fuck is happening in my gut. “Hannah and I are not good.” Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my pack of cigs, tapping one out.
Ember leans against the wall next to me, finishing the rest of my joint. It’s quieter out here, my spinning thoughts slowing as I stare up at the moon. It shines on the large pool, imported tropical trees surrounding it.
“You know,” she says, choking back the smoke in her lungs. “You sound exactly like I did last semester.”
“Listen, Ember.” I put my cigarette to the end of her joint, lighting it. “Hannah and I are not you and Mac. We’ll never be.”
“No, but that doesn’t mean it has to be nothing. And you listen, Ryung, I never saw your miserable ass relax until you and Hannah did the dirty dance.”
“Ember…”
“She hasn’t called, Rye.” Ember grabs the bottle from my hand. After taking a long drink, her eyes drop to her old Oxfords. “Since she left. She hasn’t called, or texted. Nothing. It’s been days.”
“She left?” A thousand-pound weight lands on my chest. Taking a puff, I try to shake it off. “Good.”
“You don’t mean that,” she says. “I’m worried, and you’ve known her longer.”
“You’re worried because she’s manipulated you into being her friend.” With another puff, I look out at the shimmering pool. “She’ll land on her feet. She always does.”
“You do still care. You’re just angry.”
“Why do you care?” The words bubble out. “She did nothing but humiliate you last year. She’s only after one thing and that’s looking out for herself.”
“She’s the only one here who apologized for everything. We’re friends. Even I know that’s rare in The Hill. What’s rarer? Whatever the fuck you two have.”
“Ember, the fuck are you on?”
“Empathy,” she spits back, frustration in her voice. “Help me figure out if she’s okay. I know you want to.”
“No.”
“All this because she told everyone you slept with the Coach’s wife?” Ember makes that sound much more trivial than it is. “You started it!”
“She started it, Ember!” The roar in my voice startles me. “She’s not the victim here!”
“Everything alright?” Mac appears by the door, his glare heavier than it was inside.
Ember ignores him, way too involved in my shit. “You know Hannah didn’t mean to send that photo. Marisol did.”
That weight twists. “That’s not the only line she crossed.” Flicking my cigarette to the stone, I use the heat inside me to stomp it out.
“This is still about Hannah?” Mac stares at the way my boot turns the cigarette into a pile of mush before I reach for another. “Fuck, Butterfly, you were right."
“I know,” Ember says. “He knows it too.”
Fuck this. Fuck her. Fuck them.
“Whose side are you guys on?” My eyes dart between them. I brought Ember out here to calmly get her off my back. Not for them to tell me shit that just doesn’t make sense.
“I just want my friend to be okay,” Ember says. “And I need you to stop acting like you don’t care if she is!”
“I don’t!” Before I know it, I’m taking the bottle out of Ember’s hand and smashing it on the stone. The glass shatters over our shoes. No one flinches.
“That proves my point.” Ember laughs. If it wasn’t for Mac, I’d find another way to shut her the fuck up.
"Face it, Hannah is the only person to make you crack. And she’s made a hell of a fracture.
You can handle a scandal. What you can’t handle?
Is her. And that fucks with you, and your little bitch boy ego, doesn’t it? "
Stepping to Ember, her back hits the wall. She doesn’t waiver, blowing a puff of smoke in my face.
“Try it and you’re dead.” Mac’s hand comes to my shoulder with a firm grip.
“Take her inside,” I growl, my heart pounding way harder than it did after a couple of lines.
“Punishing yourself and her doesn’t mean you’re over it,” Ember says, her eyes narrowing into mine.
She fights like Hannah, and I can see why Mac almost ruined himself for her.
“If she called, you’d answer. Stop kidding yourself and wasting my time.
” With that, she turns towards the door.
“Come on, Mac, if he’s too self-involved to help me find her, I’ll figure it out. ”
Mac lets out a low whistle before his hand slams into my back a couple of times. It feels like a friendly thing to do, but I get the warning. “Don’t let yourself bleed out, Rowen. The guys miss you.” He turns to follow Ember. “You’ve lost enough.”
Then it’s me and the moon.
My back hits the brick wall, bass bumping through the window next to it. My cigarette burns to the filter, so I flick it across the stone. Pushing my hand in my pocket, my phone sits against it, Ember’s words in my head.
Has she really not heard from her? Or was she saying that so I’d admit what she wanted? That I’m heartbroken. That I can’t handle her. That I’m a little bitch boy…
Pulling out my phone, I unlock the screen and hold my breath.
No missed calls.
I tap her name, my last text to her staring me in the face.
Ryung: I’m not done with you
After typing out some words, my finger hovers over the blue arrow.
Ryung: Where are you?
I delete it, pushing my phone back in my pocket as my craving for another cigarette reaches its peak.
I need something stronger to bury the memories of this semester.
To bury how it feels to have Hannah Alfonso consume me.
To forget how it feels to have her body on mine, my hand around her throat, her gasps in my ear.
My eyes squeeze shut.
That can’t be in my thoughts. She can’t be in my thoughts. Not anymore.
I haven’t had sex since that night, and the guys might be right. Any girl inside would kill to spend the night with me. So, I’ll do what the Crowns do best: drown our darkness in sin.
Just as I’m about to turn inside for more gin and a pill or two, my pocket vibrates.
My feet stop, Ember's words resurfacing.
Pulling out my phone, I’m greeted with an unknown number.
My eyes narrow on the area code. It looks familiar, but I can’t place it. I watch it ring, the timer in my head getting louder and louder.
Fuck it.
I answer, bringing the phone to my ear. “Who is this?”
I wait for a response, distortion coming from the other end. Moving away from the house, I raise the volume. I can hear two voices. They're faint. Familiar.
“Ryung?” A voice crackles through, a jolt firing through me.
“Krystal?” Something fumbles in the background, and I bring my finger to my free ear, listening closer.
“Rye, are you there?”
The voice changes to another familiar one. One that makes my entire body stiff.
“Hannah?”