18. Monster Mash
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
monster mash
IMOGEN
HALLOWEEN
This is the worst party I’ve ever been to.
Whoever’s in control of the music has the worst fucking taste of all time. Five Pitbull songs in a row is just a little too much, and the house is packed so full that everyone’s bleeding out into the backyard along with the music. I have to admit though, the unscheduled entertainment’s been surprisingly good. Who’d have thought drunk frat boys continuously screaming ‘Mr. Worldwide!’ while they hurl themselves off the balcony onto some mattresses would be so much fun to watch.
“Piper, no offense to Jay, but next time we pick the party.”
“Agreed,” she mutters, checking the time on her phone and letting out a frustrated groan. “God, we’ve been here for 45 minutes.”
“Does that mean we can go home?”
“I’ll have to ask the keg master,” she chuckles, gesturing off to the side.
Jay’s all the way across the yard helping people do keg stands; he’s keeping a very organized lineup, kind of like an amusement park ride. Looks like this might be his true calling.
“Well, maybe you can get a word in after this and we can—“ Someone slams into me from behind, spilling my drink all down the front of my dress. “Fuck!”
“Sorry!” A girl calls, flashing me a pained smile as she slips past me.
“She’s lucky this is latex,” I mutter, wiping the wine off.
I’m dressed like Barbie, in a bright pink dress that’s about two sizes too small for me, and a pair of matching stilettos that have been slicing into my feet all night. I even changed my phone case to match the color of my dress. When I do a costume, I go all-out.
I miss my dad’s Halloween parties. You couldn’t get in the house without a costume and if you didn’t have one, he’d find something stupid for you to wear. Obnoxiously, other than the three of us, most people here aren’t even dressed up.
I pull out my phone as we sit on the sidelines, the chaos of the night unfurling around us. I open a reading for Abi’s class, trying to get as much out of it as I can while Piper takes a bunch of selfies from different angles. I’ve got a paper due next week that I’ve barely started because I’ve been struggling with the material.
And hey, since we’re killing time, why not try to comprehend Pierre Bourdieu with some THC and a couple glasses of wine in my system?
“We need a selfie.” Piper elbows me in the ribs. “Evey from the Mummy meets Dominatrix Barbie.”
Grateful for the distraction, I set my phone down in my lap, laying a kiss on her cheek just as she snaps a picture.
“Oh, that’s a cute one!” She gushes, already touching the photo up to be posted.
“Hey, ladies!” Jay calls, dragging a bewildered looking man toward us. “This is my friend Ryan!”
I look up into a pair of stunning blue eyes that take me a little by surprise.
“Your friend,” I reply, staring Jay down. “Known him long?”
“Yeah, totally, and you guys have a lot in common!”
It’s sweet that Jay’s trying to help me get over my whole… situation, but I’m not really sure about this, even if Ryan is really cute. That said, I’m not with Roman, so it’s fine right? Maybe this’ll be a fun way to get him out of my head.
“Hey, Jay?” Piper asks, a very intentional tone in her voice as she gets to her feet. “Can you teach me how to do a keg stand?”
I want to roll my eyes, but resist the urge. She’s so obvious.
“Sure,” Jay replies, grinning from ear to ear as he stares over at me. “You need anything?”
“Nope.” I raise my glass. “All stocked up.”
He throws me a wink, flashing finger guns for good measure as he and Piper disappear into the crowd. They always think they’re going to introduce me to Mr. Right at these kinds of parties. It’s never going to happen, but I’m not the sort of girl who says no to a potential good time.
“Sorry,” Ryan clears his throat. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just telling… was it Jay?”
“You mean your good friend?” I chuckle.
“Hey, I firmly believe you can learn a lot about someone on a keg stand. It’s life changing,” Ryan replies, sipping his drink. “The truth is, I’ve kind of been wanting to talk to you all night and I meant to wander over here earlier, but you just looked…”
“Bored?” I ask.
“Angry.”
“Unfortunately, that’s just my face.”
“Ah, I see. Well, it’s a very good face,” Ryan laughs.
I toss some curls behind my shoulder.
“Actually I was trying to get some reading done for class. Resting bitch face is just a tragic side effect.”
“You’re studying? At a Halloween party?”
He looks gobsmacked.
“I mean, what else am I supposed to be doing? Beer pong? Jump off the roof?”
“Oh, I don’t know, how about you make friends with someone new and interesting?” He puffs out his chest. “What’s your name anyway?”
“Imogen.”
“Pretty name.”
“Thanks. Got it from my dad.”
“Oh, cool, was his name Imogen, too?”
He’s got a real All-American-Boy thing going on that’s surprisingly appealing. It helps that he’s decently quick too, even after one of Jay’s keg stands.
“Hey, I’m not gonna take that from–” I look him up and down. “What are you supposed to be dressed as?”
He glances down at his football jersey with a sly grin.
“My scholarship.” He gestures to the empty seat next to me. “Can I sit?”
There’s a little twinkle in his eyes that reminds me of Roman. I kind of hate how much space that guy occupies in my head.
“You’ve earned it, I guess.”
“Do you go to EBU?” Ryan asks, leaning back in the chair.
“Yeah. I’m a PhD student.”
“That’s cool. Are you in, like, medicine, or…”
“Sociology.” I rub the back of my neck, already regretting the direction the conversation’s taken. “I, uh… I research the kink scene.”
“Oh wow, that’s intense.”
Sometimes when I tell men my dissertation topic, they get a little… well, creepy. Even other academics. I did a whole presentation on it for a class at NYU and one of my classmates followed me all the way back to the subway asking me questions about it, while not-so-subtly trying to get my number.
“So, are you, uh… a practicing kinky… person?” he asks with a shy smile.
I grab a bottle of wine from my purse, one I nabbed from the kitchen before it got overwhelmed by the stink of over-enthusiastic dancing, and take a swig straight from it.
“I’ve been known to be. For the right partner.”
A cheer erupts from the kegs, and I glance over to see Piper raise both arms before letting out a primal roar that garners even further applause. I’ve never seen Jay look more proud.
Ryan shifts in his seat a little, trying to grab my attention back.
“So, uh, what would a guy have to do to be the right partner?” He purrs.
As his eyes dance up and down my body, I don’t find myself responding the way I did with Roman. The butterflies have flown away, there’s no heat in my cheeks, and even though I think this guy’s cute, I’d much rather be spending the evening spanking my boss with his own belt.
“I’m sorry.” I’m flooded with guilt as I watch the disappointment in his eyes. “I’m kind of… waiting for someone.”
I really should have just stayed home tonight. Lying in bed watching Netflix and avoiding my assignments would have been a lot better than having to look at Ryan’s big puppy dog eyes.
“Damn, I could have sworn Josh told me you were single.”
“You mean Jay.” I elbow him gently. “And I sort of am— it’s… complicated.”
“I get it,” he murmurs, pulling his phone out of his pocket, his fingers flying across the keyboard. “I don’t want to stand in the way of true love, but if he keeps you waiting for too long, let me know?”
He hands me his phone and I see the word ‘Barbie’ written at the top.
“You’re a bold guy, Ryan.”
“I think it’s my best quality.”
I chuckle, taking the phone and punching in my number.
“Thanks for not being a jerk.”
“Had to shoot my shot, right?”
“Yeah, you did a pretty good–”
Suddenly, I hear angry shouting from inside the house, dragging my attention away. It’s so loud it cuts right through the music, and I look up just in time to see the glass of the back door practically explode as someone is thrown through it. Screams erupt as a guy in a football jersey comes barrelling through the shattered glass.
He’s fucking huge. Hulk-level huge. The guy looks like he pops steroids like Skittles.
“You motherfucker!” He bellows, picking up the second guy by the collar of his shirt and punching him in the face. “You fuck my fucking girlfriend?! I’m gonna fucking kill you!”
Everyone rushes for the action, Ryan and Jay included. Fists are flying and it’s hard to tell what’s going on until I manage to catch another glimpse of Jay trying to break up the fight. He leaps onto Hulk, trying to pull him away but it only makes the guy angrier. He throws Jay off of him, grabbing him by the shoulders and kneeing him in the face before Jay’s body goes limp.
“Oh hell no.”
I sprint for the packed crowd as Piper’s bloodcurdling scream echoes through the backyard.
“Get away from him!” She roars.
I make my way toward them, pushing through a crush of football players who smell like the inside of a brewery. When I get there, I’m immediately greeted by the sight of Jay covered in blood, with a gash above his nose the size of the Grand Canyon.
“Pinch the bridge and tip your head forward— oh, fuck, Jay! I think it’s broken!” Piper turns around, her face twisted into a snarl as she stares at the group of people fighting on the lawn. “Who the fuck did this?! I’m gonna fuck you up!”
“Babe–”
The piercing screech of a police siren slices through the noise.
“Emerald Bay Police Department!”
It’s only seconds before people are scattered like leaves in the wind, and we’re quickly caught up in a stampede scrambling for the back gate, the two of us struggling to keep Jay on his feet.
“We have to get him to a hospital!” Piper shouts.
Behind us, more screams, cursing, and the sounds of police radios swirl together in a chaotic din. We keep going, pushing through the crowd until we get to a back alley. People split off into every direction, some of them laughing, others shouting out the location of another party a few blocks away.
“I don’t need a hospital!” Jay laughs. “We can keep partying. I’ll just text?—”
“No the fuck we can’t!” Piper snaps. “Your nose is broken.”
I can see exposed bone in the glow of the street lights, and his eyes are already starting to swell up. He’s trying to act tough, but he’s blinking a lot, wiping away tears as he stumbles.
“Piper—”
The venom in her eyes makes Jay freeze, clearly much more concerning to him than the blood dripping down his face.
“Jay, baby, I love you so much, but if you don’t let me take you to the hospital, I’m gonna send you there myself,” she snaps. “Now pinch your fucking nose!”
I already know that I do not want to be in that waiting room. It’ll just be hours of Piper reaming Jay out, and him telling her that he ‘had no choice.’ If Jay sees a fight, he immediately involves himself; it’s like he’s got a compulsion to get his ass kicked.
“Piper!” He groans. “Come on, can’t we talk about this?”
Unfortunately for Jay, she’s already on the phone with the taxi service, and I take that as my cue to get the hell out of dodge.
“I’m going home!” I shout. “Text me, Pipes!”
“I will!” She waves. “Love you, babe!”
“Love you too! And Jay, let her take care of you!”
I can hear him groan as I plug my brother’s address into a map app and start the trek home. A few years ago, I might have followed some people to another party, even after my friends had to bail, but now all I really want to do is crawl into bed ASAP.
The air is chilly and I immediately regret not bringing my jacket with me. After about ten minutes, my feet are killing me as well. I can feel the faux leather slicing up my skin and I slide my shoes off, wincing at the sight of my toes now looking like little sausages.
The GPS says Logan’s place is only another 15 minutes. I can walk barefoot for 15 minutes. I just need some music or a podcast, something to distract me. I dig through my purse, trying to find my AirPods, but after a few moments I can tell something’s wrong. I stop, my stomach churning and toss my purse onto the ground, crouching down and using my phone as a flashlight as I push things aside, feeling around for something sharp and metal.
“Come on,” I murmur. “I know you’re in there.”
I take out the bottle of wine I brought to the party, my charger, wallet, pepper spray, asthma inhaler, and… that’s it.
No keys.
“No fucking way.”
I dump my purse upside down and shake it like a madwoman. Nothing comes out, but I only shake harder, letting out a desperate whimper when I get the same devastating result.
That’s when the memory hits me like a freight train: I put my keys down on my nightstand, just for a second, when I was grabbing my phone. I never picked them up. How the fuck did I forget to pick them back up? Logan even asked me if I had them before I left because…
He was going to lock up after me.
Because he was going to be out of town for a couple days.
I dial his number. He’s in San Francisco for a conference for the weekend but it’s not that late at night. It’s only… well, I guess it’s technically morning.
The call goes straight to voicemail.
“Shit.”
I remember having this fight with dad so many times. I would do things too fast without thinking, and always wind up losing something: Keys, my debit card, my wallet, my homework. I left my very first phone at a fucking bus stop and sobbed until I was sick. My dad was pissed. He told me that if I wanted to keep nice things, I had to make sure that I didn’t misplace them.
I let out a frustrated sob, years of self-hatred bubbling up in my chest. It’s not like I did it on purpose. Sometimes I still feel like a kid who just can’t get it together. I sit down on the pavement and grab the half-empty wine bottle, flicking the cap off and tossing it behind me as I take a deep swig. Everything’s finally started to come crashing down.
I moved to a place I barely know, I can’t find an apartment to save my life, I slept with my brother’s best friend, and I still can’t get him out of my head.
And the cherry on top? I’m locked outside with nowhere to go.
I sniffle, digging for my phone to text Piper when I hear a sound that makes me jolt straight up.
“Imogen?”
Roman’s standing behind me, bathed in the gentle golden glow of the street lamps.
My goddamn hero, somehow looking perfect at 1 AM on a Friday.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”