12. Noah
12
Noah
I t’s just after ten when I finally show up at the East View High party just outside of town. I wasn’t planning to come tonight, but Liam hasn’t quit bugging me about it. The second he told the world his parents were out for the weekend, he started planning the first party of the semester, and naturally, every last person in East View showed up.
I’ve spent most of the night chilling with a few of the guys from St. Michael’s, but since moving schools, they haven’t been able to hold my attention, not since coming back here to this place. I’ve been here a week, and to say it’s been a dumpster fire is an understatement.
Tuesday with the rumors about Linc and Shannan’s mob attack on Zoey were a tipping point. It threw me right over the edge, and the guilt for not protecting Zoey like I always promised I would has eaten at me all week. The school has turned her into an outcast, and while she’s held her head high and suffered through it all week, I haven’t been man enough to step up and put a stop to it. If I did, I’d have to admit that I actually care.
Fuck. The school counselor has been earning her paycheck this week.
Shannan has gone out of her way to make life hell for Zoey, but despite how Zoey just sits there and takes it, I know that she’ll eventually bite back, and when she does, Shannan better run. Zoey has always had a backbone, but she keeps it hidden like a secret weapon.
I don’t get what Shannan’s angle is though. Is she trying to impress me or get my approval? Because it’s not working. If anything, it’s just showing me how fucking awful she is. Sure, I might have thought about fucking her when I first got to East View, but now that she’s messing with Zoey, there is no way in hell I’ll touch her. Liam can have her.
I don’t even know why I care so much. Maybe it’s out of habit or a way to protect Linc’s wishes. He would hate the way things are between us now, and that’s on me. He’d hate it all. My relationship with Mom, my relationship with Zoey, the way I’ve let down Hazel.
Fuck, he’d hate that most of all. I need to make it up to Hazel.
Zoey was right, Linc would be so ashamed of me, and that thought kills me. Zoey’s been right about a lot of things. How I’m too scared of my own feelings, how I’m a fucking coward. I hate how easily she can read me. When I first got here, I thought the ball was in my court, that I was the one who could see right through her, read her so perfectly, but it’s been the opposite. She’s becoming a mystery to me, while after three long years, she still knows me better than I know myself, no matter how hard I try to push her away and hide it. She makes me vulnerable.
Trying to push the thoughts of Zoey aside, I walk up the pathway toward Liam’s home. It’s pretty big for East View standards. His family clearly has money, but not the type of money they can just easily throw around and show off. Most families are like that around here. Middle to upper class. It’s why the majority of the kids around here drive expensive cars. If it weren’t for the over-the-top fees of the local private schools, I can guarantee most of these assholes would have been enrolled there instead.
My family is no different. Well, it used to be before Linc died. My father left us after that, and the guilt eats at him, so he overcompensates by throwing money at me to avoid having to deal with the fact that he’s a piece of shit. I’m not complaining though, that money bought my Camaro and paid for the killer matte black paint job. It also kept me out of jail, so there’s that.
People have spilled out on the front lawn of Liam’s property as the music blares from inside. There are kids sitting on the roof just outside the bedroom windows and spilled drinks from one end of the front porch to the other.
Clearly this party has been in full swing for a while, and I’m surprised it hasn’t been shut down yet. Though from my experience, the cops tend to let us party as long as our noise is contained and we’re not bothering anyone. They only need to worry when we’re not partying, and everyone is out on their own.
People I don’t recognize say hello, and when I stop for a second, someone shoves a beer into my hand. I talk with one of the guys on the team, pretty sure his name is Jason something . . . Maybe Harding? I don’t know, but all that matters is he’s a good player, and so far, he hasn’t let me down in training. I haven’t had a chance to get to know him yet, and from what I can tell, he seems to have his head screwed on, apart from the fact that he just fucked one of the cheerleaders in the bushes outside Liam’s home.
Come to think of it, was this the asshole who spent his summer trying to get between Zoey’s legs? Or was that Cameron Landry? I don’t fucking know anymore.
Dropping my cigarette to the lawn, I quickly stub it out with my toe before finally heading inside. The house is crammed with bodies, most of the guys are standing around and watching the girls dance while calling out crass comments. The floors are sticky, and I keep to the edges of the room as I scan Liam’s home, not willing to risk walking through the girls just yet. I need a few drinks before I can lower my standards enough to put myself through that shit.
A game of beer pong is set up on the dining table, and I find Liam at the head of it with a girl under his arm as he throws the ping pong ball across the table, directly into the cup at the other end. Everybody breaks into cheers as Liam hollers and takes a swig of his beer before dropping his lips to the girl’s and furiously eating her face.
Not giving a shit if I break up their little celebration, I step into Liam’s side as people call out to me, wanting my attention. “Hey man,” I say as he pulls away from his girl.
“Yo, you made it,” Liam cheers, grabbing my hand and pulling me in to clap me on the back. “I was starting to think you’d bailed.”
“On the first party of the year? Nah. Just had shit to do first.”
“Fuck yeah,” he says, nodding to some kid who scurries into the kitchen to grab me a beer, despite the one already in my hand. “Let’s get you fucked up. There’s a party to be had!”
I grin, not really in the mood to get fucked up, but after the week I’ve had, I could use the drink. The kid returns and offers me a beer, and I take it gingerly before cracking the top. Lifting the rim to my lips, I take a quick swig and scrunch up my face. This shit tastes like piss, but I’ll drink it anyway.
Liam bails on his game, and we head outside to where the rest of the football team is chilling by the firepit. The guys welcome me with open arms, and before I know it, another beer is shoved into my hands. The loud music flows out to the yard, but it’s muffled enough that we can actually hold some form of conversation, not that the guys are interested in talking when there are girls draping themselves all over them.
Shannan hovers like a bad stench, but I’m not about to make a scene by telling her to fuck off, not yet at least. As long as she doesn’t try to get naked and grind all over me. She’s fine to pretend she means something here. Besides, she’s dancing with her friends, and so far, the rest of the guys seem to appreciate her efforts. Me on the other hand, I couldn’t be less interested.
I fuck around with the boys for an hour before getting up and making my way toward the back door, but I only get a few feet away when Shannan steps directly into my path. “Where are you going?” she purrs, her hand plastered against my chest.
“None of your damn business,” I say, pushing her hand off me.
Shannan shakes it off, and as I go to step around her, she steps with me. “Come on, don’t be like that,” she says, reminding me just how persistent she is, only when I look at her, all I see is the bitch who’s been making Zoey’s life a living hell all week. “Why don’t you come dance with me?”
“I don’t dance,” I say, attempting to get around her again.
She puts her hand up on my chest again and steps even closer, pushing up on her tippy toes to whisper in my ear. “That’s okay,” she murmurs. “I can dance enough for the both of us. Unless you’d rather just skip all the bullshit and take me upstairs instead.”
Fucking hell. This chick doesn’t give up.
I pull back and look down at her, my face scrunching in disgust. It’s one thing getting with the cheer captain, but hearing that kind of desperation is the biggest turnoff. “I’ll pass,” I say, shoving her off me again. “Fuck Liam instead. He’ll give you what you want.”
Shannan gapes at me as I walk past her, and I can guarantee that she’s never been rejected before, especially by one of the football players, but I’ve got better things to do than play pass the cheerleader.
Making my way inside, I head for the kitchen and find another beer before cracking the top and lifting it to my lips. I’ve already had a few, too much that I won’t be driving home tonight, but not enough to fuck me up. Not yet at least. There’s still time. After all, pushing away the people I love isn’t the only thing that helps numb the pain.
Wanting to avoid Shannan’s bullshit for a while, I make my way through Liam’s home, cutting through the throng of partiers and stopping to say hi to the few people I’ve gotten to know this week.
The music is so loud, I barely hear what anyone is saying, and I zone out, glancing around the party. Couples are hooking up in the hallways and lingering on the stairs while sloppy, drunk girls fumble around, knocking into each other. Girls squeal and laugh as they spill their drinks everywhere while random guys make asses of themselves trying to hit on them.
A familiar laugh sounds over the music, and my gaze shifts back toward the dance floor, and I suck in a breath when I find Zoey dancing with her friends, and fuck me, she’s breathtaking. I can’t tear my eyes off her.
She’s got a drink in her hand, and it’s clear from the light flush in her cheeks that she’s already had a few too many. She dances so carefree, more relaxed and happier than I’ve ever seen her before. She’s simply stunning, and for just a moment, something thaws in my frozen heart.
Her body moves to the music, and goddamn, it’s hypnotizing. In those boots and that tiny skirt, I’ve never wanted her more. I’ve always looked at her as a kid, and well, that’s because we were kids, but now? Fuck! No wonder every guy at school has been desperate for a taste.
A wide smile spreads across her face, and I watch as her friend, Tarni, holds up a bottle of straight Vodka and pours it right into her cup. “Alright, girl,” she calls over the music, leaning into Zoey. “Which one of these assholes is gonna pop that cherry?”
Oh, hell no. Over my dead fucking body.
Zoey laughs and glances around the room as if actually looking for someone to fuck, and a deep anger swirls through my veins. Only as she looks around, those big green eyes find mine through the darkness, her smile so fucking bright it hurts.
She doesn’t respond to Tarni’s question, just simply keeps watching me as she continues to dance, and I can’t look away, the two of us locked in a trance. Zoey laughs to herself, sipping her drink as she moves to the music, her wide stare drawing me in.
I’ve never seen her like this before—like a fucking angel sent right from the heavens—and for the first time in three pain-filled years, I don’t feel plagued by darkness.
I inch toward her as she dances for me, and for some reason, nothing can hold me back tonight, and as I watch her, it feels as though we’re the only people in the room.
My heart thunders.
Zoey doesn’t dare take her eyes off mine, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s where those eyes have always belonged.
It feels so damn right.
She finishes what’s in her drink, and I take another step toward her, that deep, sultry gaze beckoning me, daring me to take everything I’ve ever wanted. She tosses her empty cup over her shoulder, and it hits the guy behind her, but she doesn’t seem to notice, her attention solely on me.
The guy turns around and steps into her, his arm slipping around her waist and forcing her attention up to his gaze, stealing those eyes away from me. He leans down and murmurs something into her ear, and the way she smiles up at him and laughs has a fierce jealousy pulsing through my veins.
My heart races, and I can’t help but watch as he pulls her into him, that perfect body of hers folding against his like it should be doing to mine.
My hands ball into fists at my sides, and while I’ve done absolutely nothing to deserve her, I’m not ready to watch someone else sweep her away.
I have no right to try and hold on to her after the last three years of pushing her away. It’d make life a shitload easier if she just pretended I didn’t exist, but this . . . no. I can’t fucking stand seeing her like this.
I force my stare away, needing another drink, and this time, it’s going to be something a lot stronger than a fucking beer. I turn away and stalk back toward the kitchen, my hand slipping into my pocket for a cigarette.
How the fuck could I let her get to me like that?
Zoey James has me weak, and I don’t like it.
Just before stepping out to the kitchen, I glance back and find her through the crowd, needing to know if this was all for show and if I still had her attention, but instead, my rage hits an all-new high.
The guy tries to kiss her, and I watch as she turns her face away, shaking her head and trying to tell him no, but he doesn’t listen. She pushes at his chest, but he holds her tighter, his arm locking around her waist and keeping her pinned against him. His other hand trails down to her ass, squeezing tight, and her soft cry for him to stop is like a knife right to my chest.
Zoey looks around for help, but her friends are nowhere to be seen, and then she looks for me across the room, but I’m already there, having crossed the dance floor in a matter of seconds, moving toward her before I can even fully comprehend what’s happening. Her eyes widen, finding me right behind the guy, and before she can say a word, I grip his shoulder and whip him around.
He barely has a chance to see what’s coming before my fist flies toward his face. The force of my punch throws him back, and Zoey jumps aside, narrowly avoiding being knocked out by his flailing arms.
The asshole comes back at me, roaring with anger before his friends rush into his side, pulling him back. They clearly have more sense than he does at the moment. “Leave it,” one of his friends urges. “That’s Noah Ryan. You don’t wanna start shit with him. It’s not worth it.”
The guy fights against his friends, trying to tear out of their grasp, roaring at them to release him, but I couldn’t give a shit about him as I turn to Zoey, anger booming through my chest. “You’re drunk,” I spit at her. “Go home. You don’t belong here.”