Chapter 4 #3
The group practically evaporates into thin air, enough brain cells functioning to figure out they’re in danger, and I’m given the breathing space to look for Joey properly.
Moving slowly and quietly, I slip into each room like a ghost. No one involved in the group sex notices me, thank God, because it’s much easier to be impartial during a search when you’re not making eye contact with the girl who sits in front of you in Health Ed while she’s being eaten out by her blond, cutesy best friend.
Zero judgment, but voyeurism has never done it for me.
After going room by room, I’m starting to think I’ll have to go back and search them all for a second time. It’s only after I make it to the en-suite bathroom at the very end of the hall that I find Joey all wrapped up in his particular brand of ‘fun’. I’m reminded of how much I hate the asshole.
He’s sprawled out on the floor making out with a girl and twisting her bare nipples while the second girl rides his dick.
The one he’s kissing keeps flinching away from his hands and her face is like a billboard of ‘not-enjoying-this-at-all’.
Still, she’s in this bathroom and she’s kissing him like she’ll die without his lips, so I hope the payoff is worth it for her.
I take a few photos and a little video before I leave them to it.
When I make it back to the dance floor, Avery has finished the bubbly and is letting off some serious steam.
I head over to her as Blaise throws his head back, roaring with laughter at something she says to him, though the music is too loud for me to hear it.
He’s drunk and having the time of his life, and it feels like the entire room is centered around the euphoric chaos oozing out of him, but maybe that’s just me.
When he glances over at me, I see he’s beyond drunk, more like fucking plastered, and it only takes me a second to spot the empty whiskey bottle discarded over by the wall.
Avery must’ve used it as a distraction, but by the look of him now, he’ll be lucky to survive the night without choking on his own vomit.
Instantly, my own desire to drink disappears because one of us has to be lucid enough to stop that from happening, but when Avery shoots me a grin and waves me over to join them, I grin back at her and the night is looking up.
I could stay here all night with them both, dancing and twirling and sweating my heart out, but then Blaise turns green and lurches away, stumbling outside to puke on the steps.
Charming, but I reach a new low because my infatuation with him doesn’t falter. I need therapy.
When he finally straightens up, his eyes are closed and he starts mumbling incoherently under his breath as a shiver runs through him.
I’m expecting Avery to bitch him out for it, but she doesn’t miss a beat.
She waits a moment to be sure he’s finished puking, then she tucks herself under one of his arms. Without a word of complaint, she turns back toward the school with a determined gleam to her eyes like she’s preparing for a Herculean task.
I mean, it kind of is because she’s already struggling underneath his weight, and the entire operation almost goes to shit when he stumbles.
I really, really don’t want to risk doing something to piss him off, but I only manage to watch them take two faltering steps before I sigh and duck under the other arm to help out.
I breathe through my mouth, absolutely determined to not drown in his scent, and Avery shoots me a grateful look.
She can guess how much I do not want to touch him, but I’m certain she’s still coming up short.
I tell myself it’s fine. I can feel his muscular arm across my shoulder, his chest is half draped over my back, and I feel like I’m dying, but it’s fine. Totally fine. I’m fine.
We make it to the tree line uninterrupted.
My bad leg is starting to protest the extra weight, and I make a note to take something to stop the inevitable swelling before I pass out.
If I don’t, I’ll be hobbling around the school for weeks, and I’m not signing up for that right now if it can be helped.
I’m busy keeping my brain preoccupied and not thinking about the pain I’m in, so I don’t notice Annabelle stepping in front of us until Avery abruptly stops.
A hot bolt of pain shoots up my leg in protest, and my teeth clench violently as I bite back a groan.
Glancing up at her, I curse viciously under my breath at the dumb bitch.
“Move, Summers,” Avery snaps.
Annabelle’s face is flushed and her eyes are glassy. She’s wearing a red bandage dress and absolutely ridiculous heels. They’re even taller than Avery’s, which I didn’t even know was possible, so she’s practically on stilts. Honestly, I’m surprised her ankles haven’t snapped yet.
“Give me Blaise. We came to the party together, and we planned to leave together.”
Avery doesn’t even bother with her usual icy facade, huffing as she adjusts her hold around Blaise’s waist so he doesn’t fall.
He’s gently rocking on his feet and making us both rock with him.
I’m glad I didn’t drink much because it’s already making my stomach protest. I can tell Avery is about to lose her cool and go full Beaumont on this bitch’s ass.
“Whatever you planned, he’s done for the night.
Get out of our way so we can get him back already,” I say, and Blaise chooses that moment to tuck his face into my neck and mumble nonsense into my skin.
The greatest achievement of my life so far is suppressing the shiver that threatens to take over my body.
Annabelle looks at me like she didn’t even notice I was there to begin with. “You? Fuck no, if he goes home with you, he’ll be tied to a fucking bed and forced to play out all your stalker fantasies.”
“And if he goes home with you, he’ll wake up an expectant father. Now fuck off,” Avery hisses at her and starts to walk again.
Blaise’s legs stumble, like he’s startled that we’re on the move again, and when Annabelle starts screaming at us, he lifts his head and yells out to her, “I told you to leave me the fuck alone, Summers.” Then he tucks his face back into my neck and sighs.
My leg is shaking as we enter the school building, and by the second flight of stairs, Avery declares that she’s going to gift the school an elevator.
Blaise is snoring and his feet are dragging along behind us as I fumble to get our door open.
Avery is looking sweaty and disheveled and when I grin at her, she pokes her tongue out at me.
Blaise is dropped unceremoniously onto the couch before Avery flings a thin blanket over him.
“Fucking rich kids,” I say, and Avery laughs all the way to the bathroom.