Chapter 24
I’m supporting her. That’s what best friends do, right?
Truth be told though, I’m intrigued.
Owen will be going to the party, and apart from the brief encounters at school, I never see him with his friends. I’ve never seen him at a party, and I want to. I want a glimpse of the carefree version of him that he portrays at school.
Not the troubled protector he has to be at home.
His mask has become so good, I question who the real him is now. Sometimes I wonder whether he’s even fooled himself. Just like I trick myself.
“Ladies. Thank you for joining us,” Harry stands with five of his minions.
The two directly next to him are Carl or Steven, or something. They flank him on either side, their arms crossed over their chests. They’re not un-attractive, but there is something smarmy about them. Harry, on the other hand, is hot.
Tall, muscular, solid.
Dirty blonde hair and dark brown eyes. I know that if you stand close to him, you can see his slightly crooked nose. Along with the scar that runs faintly along his cheekbone, another on his eyebrow. The scars that Owen gave him. The crooked nose Owen gave him.
Girls stand next to us, all whispering and shifting nervously on the spot. Some are in their PE kits having just finished netball training, others still in their school uniform.
All of us young, na?ve, and desperate to go to the party.
“I wonder what the task is going to be,” one of them whispers.
“I heard they have some sort of obstacle course,” another replies.
“You’ve been hand selected by my boys and I to join us at my party tonight.
If you successfully complete your task, you will be the first ever year elevens to come,” Harry says, walking up and down the shower room, his voice echoing off the tiled walls.
“In a minute, each one of us will select one of you. From there, you will go with your partner to a cubicle.”
“This doesn’t sound at all dodgy,” I whisper to Gemma, who is staring at Carl, her eyes full of admiration. Oh shit, I forgot she fancies the pants off him. I bet she’s silently hoping that he chooses her.
“Then what?” one of the other girls asks, as two of them shake their heads and turn to leave.
“If you walk out the door, you can say goodbye to your reputation,” Steven says, and the boys all laugh. It’s enough to make them slow their steps.
“You will be blindfolded.” One of the minions turns around and grabs a black shoe box off the side and passes it to Harry.
“Each one of us will have a shoebox. The task is simple. With your blindfold on, you will put your hand in and guess what’s in the box. If you get more than six correct, you can come. Questions?”
“Will it bite?” one asks.
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Is it alive?” another one asks.
“This feels gross,” another one mumbles, so only we can hear.
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Harry answers.
“Is it safe?” Gemma asks.
“Maybe. Maybe not. If you want to leave, you can. Otherwise, we will begin the selection process.”
I glance to Gemma, who shifts, but doesn’t move to leave.
“This doesn’t feel right,” I admit as Harry walks up and down the line. He stops in front of Gemma, looks her up and down, bites his lip, reaches out his hand. But instead of grabbing hers, he grabs my tie.
“Mine,” he says, pulling me to him quickly as I fall into his chest. His hard chest. The waft of his aftershave runs straight into my nose. It’s thick, sweet, and cheap.
I pull a face.
“You’re next, Carl.”
Carl walks straight to Gemma and pulls her by the tie. She does the same, falling into his chest. But whereas I’ve pushed off him quickly, she falls into him and grips his biceps, peeking up seductively.
Well fuck, she isn’t going anywhere.
Harry leans forward, unties my tie, and leads me towards a shower cubicle at the end.
“Ladies first,” he says, holding out his arm.
I take a deep breath and step into the cubicle.