Chapter Three
Poppy
Prom
(Two months later)
The gym is unrecognizable.
Black and gold fabric cascades down from the rafters, along with strings of lights, glittering like stars that have been plucked from the heavens and trapped indoors.
Masks of every kind hide familiar faces behind lace, feathers, and sequins.
Some girls are wearing plastic crowns, pretending to be something more elegant than they are, as a band plays something slow and dramatic I’ve never heard before, a strange blend of electric violins bleeding into bass-heavy beats.
It feels like a lie dressed up as magic.
Pippa twirls in front of the photographer one last time, her bright fuchsia dress hugging all her curves.
She picked her dress on purpose, enjoying how her boobs practically pop out of the strapless top.
She’s wearing an elegant sequined mask adorned with gigantic bright pink feathers that stick up on the left and flawlessly accentuate her perfectly pinned hair like she just waltzed in from the nineteen twenties.
Daniel, our next-door neighbor for years, hovers behind her, straightening his tie for the fifth time, looking awkwardly devoted as she poses for their seventh photo in ten minutes.
He’s not a bad-looking guy, with his mousy brown hair flopping over his forehead and muscular frame that’s toned from being on the track team, but he definitely doesn’t hold a candle to Pippa.
She loves the camera, and the camera loves her.
“You look incredible,” he compliments her, for what’s probably the hundredth time since we got here.
She smiles, but her gaze flicks past him, focusing on the couple who just waltzed through the door.
Eddie and Amber walk in together, both looking radiantly beautiful in the casino’s overhead lights. It’s a new relationship, but one that looks right. Effortless.
Eddie’s hair is slicked back, and I can’t believe he’s actually wearing a tuxedo. Next to him, Amber’s in all gold, her arm looped through his, her blonde curls hanging down her backless dress. She looks absolutely stunning.
Pippa’s smile tightens, but Daniel doesn’t seem to notice.
He’s too busy falling even more in love with her.
Like a gentleman, he offers her his arm, and the only reason she takes it is because it’s there.
She’s not there to fall in love with the boy next door; she’s there to make Eddie jealous and steal him away from Amber.
But you can’t stop true love. From the moment Amber and Eddie met, it was like kismet personified. Each of them was equally attracted and pulled by something no one could have predicted.
They just don’t see how much it’s hurting Pippa.
Rich enters behind them, wearing a half mask that conceals his scars. I’ve barely met the guy, but I already feel closer to him than I ever have to Wesley. He’s like the brother I’ve always wanted. Stoic. Protective. Hanging out with Rich is fun for me. Wesley… not so much.
He stops just inside the door, miserably moving toward a shadowed wall when he sees Zoe on the dance floor with her friends, laughing like she didn’t just break his heart and joke about it all over school.
There’s a strange heaviness to him, like he’s contemplating life and everything that comes with it.
He’s pretending not to care but caressing the shadows like in their embrace he can somehow survive the night.
I feel bad for him and make a mental note to steal him for a dance later.
Wesley is the last to arrive with Morgan hanging on his arm like an extravagant, tacky ornament. She makes sure everyone knows she’s there by shouting, “I’m here, bitches!” the second she’s inside the door.
I hate how beautiful she looks. Her mask is pink and glittery, matching her dress that’s not up to dress code at all.
Her neckline plunges to dangerous depths, the back of it barely stopping before the swell of her ass, and the length isn’t below the knees like it should be.
One false move, and everyone’s going to see what’s between her legs.
She clings to him like he’s her property. For the last few months, he’s been casually flirting with her. Getting closer, making sure I see them together.
I hate that I’ve noticed, and the jealousy I feel when I see her hand lightly grab his pecs. It’s stupid. Wesley is a troll that shouldn’t exist in my life.
But he does.
In my thoughts.
In my dreams.
In my stupid memories that won’t go away.
God, that almost kiss lives on repeat in my head, like it’s taunting me and refuses to never go away.
It’s a terrible cycle, but so is seeing him here with a girl who’s been bragging about how she’s going to be taking his virginity tonight and removing him off the market.
Why my stomach twists and aches at that thought, I have no idea. Wesley can do what he wants with whomever he wants.
He’s my arch nemesis.
A sworn enemy.
An infuriating excuse of a boy who has too much charisma and a smile that just lives in your soul. He’s nothing to me… and yet… he’s everything all at once.
He scans the room like he’s looking for something…
someone. Then that heated gaze falls on me, his jaw tightening when Tony’s arm curls around my waist, his fingers pressing into my flesh like he’s staking a claim he hasn’t earned.
Something dark flashes in those pools of blue, like a quiet storm ready to create havoc.
It lasts for two seconds too long before he finally looks away, the heat still scorching my skin like it were laced with poison.
And maybe it is, because the more I look at Wesley, the more I wish I was Morgan tugging him toward the dance floor.
But that’s insane!
Why would I want Wesley, who’s been in and out of jail, when I’m here with one of the most popular guys in our class?
Tony pulls out a flask and offers it to me when one of the teachers isn’t looking. “Want a swig?”
Shaking my head, I nervously look towards the dance floor, searching for Wesley.
He’s watching me from over Morgan’s shoulder, eyes trained on the flask in Tony’s hand, and the way his hand is on my arm, holding it a bit too aggressively.
“Don’t be such a prude,” Tony grits out. “You need to loosen up for tonight.”
“What’s tonight?”
He grins. “You’ll see.”
A gulp seizes in my throat, and even though I try to inch away, Tony’s hold on me only gets more possessive.
Wesley sees it, jaw clenching as if he’s going to march across the room and lay Tony out.
Well, that’s not gonna happen. I purposely chose Tony for tonight, hoping to rid myself of the dreaded V-card before graduation. I just didn’t expect to be so repulsed by the idea the more I get to know him.
Tony places the flask back in his jacket pocket and forces me onto the dance floor. We dance through a few songs, but I excuse myself when a slow song comes on, needing a breather.
“God, you’re such a buzzkill, Poppy. Why can’t you be more outgoing like your sister?” He flashes a smile toward Pippa, who’s dancing with Daniel intimately, but has her eyes trained on Eddie.
He doesn’t seem to notice her.
Eddie’s gaze is focused only on Amber, moving in closer, his hands firmly planted on her waist. When they kiss, I see it in my sister’s eyes, the jealousy building. The hurt and betrayal she must feel.
It’s her fault she’s feeling this way. She never opened up to Eddie about how much she liked him, and when Amber asked if she was into Eddie, Pippa said they were just friends. Now she’s paying the price.
“I’m sorry, Tony. I’m just tired.”
He scoffs. “Well, if you won’t slow dance with me, I’ll find someone who will.” He immediately turns toward Zoe and pulls her into his arms, both of them not giving two shits that I’m supposed to be his date as she hooks a leg over his and starts dry-humping him in front of everyone.
It’s gross and embarrassing.
But without Tony, I’ve lost my shield.
The second I move to a safe place across the room, I’m no longer alone; his dark presence all consuming.
“Fuck, Poppy, you look so damn beautiful tonight,” Wesley whispers, the husk of his voice sending goosebumps along my forearms. But the second his fingers lightly dance across my arms, I freeze, no longer able to hold my tongue.
“I see Cinderella forgot his ankle bracelet today. Did your Fairy Parole Officer give you until midnight before you change back into your pumpkin jumpsuit?”
He laughs. It’s a hearty laugh that echoes throughout the room, grabbing the attention of others around us.
“That was a good one,” he compliments, smiling to the point of devastation. “By the way, that dress should be illegal.”
Not sure why it hits me differently this time. Like his compliment means more than it should. But I smile, the corners of my mouth slightly twitching.
“Funny coming from someone who actually breaks the law.”
My gaze tracks every step until we’re facing each other. He may be short, but he towers over me by at least two feet, the golden light bathing him like he’s some kind of Adonis.
“I’m rehabilitated.”
“Since when?”
“Since I walked into this room and saw you standing there next to your pathetic excuse for a prom date.”
“He’s not pathetic,” I challenge, though he really is.
“He’s practically fucking Zoe on the dance floor, Poppy. That’s not a date. That’s a herpes case waiting to happen.” He pauses, eyes perusing parts of me that make me feel incredibly exposed. “Do you even know what he’s saying around school?”
Shaking my head, I take a step back, hating how his heated breath makes the cells in my body tingle like magic.
“He’s saying he’s going to fuck you tonight.”
Mock laughter spills from my lips. “And?”
“And it’s wrong, Poppy. That douchebag doesn’t deserve something so precious.” He slides a hand down my side, stopping just at my hip before it’s viciously smacked away.
“Hands.”
He grins, showing off a flawless smile. “Where do you want them?”
“Anywhere but on me.”
For a second his smile twitches downward before he regains that familiar composure.