Chapter 11
“Ilook fucking stupid,” I whisper to my empty room.
It’s the only costume I could find. I refuse to wear the blonde wig, since the low-cut cottagecore pink dress with the pastel green corset begs for attention enough.
I don’t remember this Goldilocks costume fitting this poorly senior year of high school, but that’s probably because my ass and tits have only gotten bigger over the years.
I probably will have a nip slip tonight. I hope I’m drunk enough not to care.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and I catch a text from Chrishell. We’re out front.
I give myself one last glance, examining my curly hair that I half attempted to wrangle into two pigtails, my bright pink cheeks, my thigh-high socks, and my shiny pink heels.
I look cute, even if it feels like I’m asking for too much attention, but maybe that’s what I need, someone to get my mind off of Lewis and my annoying stepbrother for the night.
Goddammit, I must be ovulating because why the fuck do I think another dick in my life is even a semblance of a good idea?
Yep, most definitely ovulating because as I skip out of my bedroom, I subconsciously make as much noise as possible, the horny side of my brain hoping Derek sees me in my new attire.
Alas, the slut wins, because right before I descend the steps Derek's voice tickles my eardrums. “Where are you going?” I flash my gaze to him, leaning against his doorframe and sizing me up with a calculating grin.
I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly self-conscious for some odd reason. “A costume party.”
“Really? I was going to guess church.”
“Ha, ha.” I walk down the stairs.
“Where’s the costume party?” Derek asks, his breath against my ear. I nearly stumble, surprised how fast he got so close to me.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Hm, you seemed to enjoy me getting into your business yesterday.”
My cheeks heat, and I turn toward him, slapping his chest. I hoped we could pretend yesterday didn’t happen at all, but it looks like that’s not an option. “Shut up!” I grit my teeth. “I’m going to Zinc with Chrishell.” I keep walking.
“Yuck.”
“I heard it’s nicer now. The crowd grew up with us.”
“No, not Zinc.”
“Asshole.” I roll my eyes, hand on the doorknob.
“You love it.”
“Have fun jerking off.” I swing the door open.
“I will. I’ll be thinking of you, of course.” It’s the last thing I hear before I slam the front door behind me.
“Hey, girl!” Chrishell waves from her Range Rover, and I’m thankful for the cover of night to hide my surely flushed skin.
“Hey!” I call back, walking toward her car.
“You look hot,” Rachel says from her passenger seat as I crawl into the back, her face devoid of emotion.
“Thanks.”
Rachel and I were never close growing up.
She was always around, following Chrishell, but we never really clicked.
Nothing is wrong with her, but we just weren’t each other’s people, and that’s okay.
Glancing at the two women in front of me as I strap myself in makes me realize that, besides Chrishell’s cosmetic procedures, neither of them has changed much.
Rachel is still low-key, her hair slicked back in a bun and a simple gray t-shirt and black pants.
Chrishell is her total opposite, with blown-out bouncy hair, a full beat, and a white corset with matching shorts, not to mention the giant wings behind her that I’m honestly impressed she can navigate around while driving.
Maybe their yin-and-yang thing is what makes their friendship work, since they’re still close after all these years.
I’m too shy to be close to Rachel. Growing up, I needed Chrishell to bring me out of my shell.
“You two look great, too,” I say as Chrishell backs away from my house. I lean forward, examining them further. “What are you supposed to be?” I ask Rachel, since her costume is not super obvious.
She pulls up a mouse-ear headband from her side and holds it in my line of vision. “I’m a mouse, duh.”
“Right.” I turn to Chrishell. “And you’re obviously an angel?”
“Victoria's Secret Angel,” she winks. She pulls down the visor as she drives, rubbing a smudge under her lip. “And I’m hoping some hot guy will want to learn all about my secrets tonight.” She smiles at Rachel, who rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Wait, aren’t you engaged?”
“Oh, right.” She lifts up her left hand and slips off her ring, stuffing it in the middle console.
Rachel turns to me. “She cheats on him.”
“I do not!” Chrishell shrieks. “We have an agreement.”
“They don’t fuck.”
“Marriage is more than fucking.”
Rachel gives Chrishell a side eye. “It’s sure a big part of it.”
Chrishell pats her arm. “Roger isn’t a sexual person, which is fine with me. He is more than happy for me to enjoy myself elsewhere.”
Rachel turns to me again. “Yeah, he’s rich.”
“Rachel!” Chrishell yells, slapping her arm. “Whatever. Yeah, he’s rich. I’m not embarrassed by it.”
I hold my hands up and fall back into my seat. “Hey, I’m not judging you!”
She smiles at me through her mirror. “See, you always were understanding, unlike Miss Judgy over here. That’s why we had to bring you tonight. That and it’s been like a month since I got laid, and I knew bringing you around would help.”
“Help?” Ew, no thank you.
“Yeah, your tits always bring the groups of guys over, and I’m glad to see you have them on full display tonight.”
“Um, what about my beautiful face and my sparkling personality?”
She laughs. “Yes, you’re also completely hot and funny. Want any more compliments?”
“No, thank you. I’m good for a while. But you’re full of crap, I did not draw boys in growing up.”
“Are you kidding me? Even your brother wanted to fuck you.”
My mouth pops open. I’m stunned speechless.
“Chrishell!” Rachel reprimands.
“What? It’s true!”
I find my voice. “It’s not true!”
“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes.
“And he’s not my brother.”
“Stepbrother. Same thing.”
“Absolutely not the same thing.”
“Why, because that makes it okay to fuck him?”
“No!” I yell, truly panicked that she’s about to discover what’s going on between us.
She looks at me again in her mirror. “I’m fucking with you, Isabella.”
I force a laugh, hoping my discomfort doesn’t show.
“Come on, let’s get hype so when we can get to Zinc, we’re ready to go!” She turns up the radio; electronic house music blares through the speakers.
I attempt to still my trembling heart, hoping I didn’t give myself away. I don’t need more stress right now. This night was supposed to be for running away from my worries, especially Derek, and yet he always seems to come to my mind. It’s like his presence follows me.
My heart settles as the music vibrates the car. Chrishell and Rachel sway their bodies in front and sing along with the very few lyrics present in the song. I join in, hoping that the rest of the night can be this effortless.
Zinc is an hour drive away, but it goes by quickly with the girls. “They have valet now?” I ask as we pull up to the front, and a man in a polo shirt runs to open our doors.
“Yup, this place has really stepped it up from high school. They had a whole remodel inside, too,” Chrishell yells across her car as she walks around toward Rachel and me. “I don’t know if it will compare to all your fancy New York City nightclubs, but to us hillbillies it’s pretty fucking fancy.”
I want to tell her that I barely ever went out in New York; it wasn’t really Lewis’ scene, but she’s already too far ahead of me, sauntering up to the bouncer. By the time I’ve trudged up to her, the bouncer has already unclipped the red velvet rope and holds it open for us to enter.
“Damn,” I say to myself, because no one would be able to hear me over the booming music swelling from the dark room.
Chrishell was right. A lot has changed from the lackluster club of my youth.
Bodies gyrate all around me, only visible by the ever-present flash of strobe lights streaming over the crowd.
As far as I can tell, everyone is in costume, most of them as slutty as mine.
A circular bar sits at the center of the giant room, rows of illuminated bottles of alcohol stacked in a display that reaches the tall ceiling.
A second level overlooks the dance area, holding velvet couches and cocktail tables separated by railings.
“Come on, let’s get a drink,” Chrishell yells over the music, grabbing me and Rachel and pulling us into the herd.
Eyes take me in as we slink by; some are in masks, some in face paint, and some with entire furry animal heads. It’s a bit unsettling to see so many grown adults in costume nowhere near Halloween, but it will probably seem much more normal once I have alcohol flowing through my system.
“Three lemon drop shots!” Chrishell yells to the bartender as soon as we reach the counter. The blonde woman nods and pulls out tiny glasses.
“Shots?” I whine.
“Yes, shots! Look at this place. We have some catching up to do.”
The bartender drops the yellow drinks, and Chrishell demands we take them immediately. The sickly sweet liquid burns on the way down, but after a second, it already makes me feel more carefree.
“Another round!” Chrishell yells, and this time I don’t protest.
“Can’t we have something less sweet?” Rachel asks with a scrunched expression.