Chapter Fifteen
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Let’s fucking goooooo, bitch!” Poppy shouts in my face after I knock on her door.
Whatever she’s on has her stumbling in her thigh-high boots as she pulls me into her room. I swallow hard as I take in her purple mesh top and matching bralette. My chunky black sweater and jeans are definitely not cut out for tonight’s dress code. At least I had the foresight to throw on a few rings from the box Solina kept on her windowsill. After almost losing my fingers after my phone call with Tiffany, being warm is more important than looking the part.
There’s no sign of any liquor bottles in Poppy’s pristine room. Despite being a single, it’s twice the size of mine and Claudia’s—the attached bathroom alone is big enough to fit my entire half of our room. Everything from the comforter to the curtains to the area rug to the caramel macchiato candle on the vanity is matching rose gold. My nose prickles. Beneath the sweet notes of vanilla and espresso is the familiar scent of freshly flat-ironed hair.
No one else is invited to the pre-party, like I’d thought. Yet Poppy cranks up the volume on the portable speaker on her bookshelf like there’s a crowd to entertain.
“Have some,” she orders, thrusting a Hydro Flask into my hand.
All it takes is one whiff for my stomach to lurch at the all-too-familiar scent of tequila. After my poor decision-making on New Year’s Eve, I’ve sworn off hard liquor for the next decade. I lift up the Hydro Flask just enough to make it look convincing. Poppy reaches into the mini-fridge beneath her bed and pulls out a water bottle filled with something bright pink, taking a swig before waving my hand away when I try to hand back the Hydro Flask.
“Keep it,” she insists, taking a sip of her new drink before crossing the room toward her closet.
While Poppy’s busy sorting through her clothes, I take a seat at the vanity beside her bed, cluttered with makeup brushes and bottles of perfume.
“A leather jacket probably isn’t a good idea, right?” she calls from inside the walk-in closet.
“It’s ten degrees out.”
Poppy hums in thought, and I turn my attention back to her room. Fairy lights are strung along the edge of the bed, photos and ticket stubs clipped to the lights with wooden clothespins. Closest to me is a Polaroid of Hunter and Poppy on the beach together, winking at the camera while they suck on Firecracker popsicles. Most of the photos are of her and Hunter, I realize. Them roasting marshmallows over a firepit, popping champagne in a hotel suite, sprawled out on the couch at a rustic cabin. There are only two pictures Hunter isn’t in. One of Poppy hugging a pale blond woman with striking blue eyes, and another of her on the shoulders of a dark-skinned man with a shaved head and salt-and-pepper beard. Her parents, I assume.
“Hunter said you two might be headed to the Poconos with his parents for spring break,” Poppy says as she walks out of the closet, a trench coat slung over her arm.
I shrug. That’s the first I’m hearing of it, so I might as well play along. “Guess we’ll see.”
Poppy hums again, swaying as she walks toward me and perches herself on the edge of her bed. “Good luck, you’ll need it,” she says with a giggle before taking another sip.
“What do you mean?” I ask with a raised brow. It shouldn’t be surprising that the people who raised someone like Hunter would be tough pills to swallow, but how bad are they that even Poppy can’t put up with them?
Poppy sticks a reusable straw into her drink, swirling it around before laughing to herself and replying, “Let’s just say his mom knows what she wants.”
Before I can push her for more, she’s swinging her legs off the bed and pulling me out of my seat, twirling us to the beat of an EDM song and singing along even though there are no lyrics. Some of the drink in my Hydro Flask spills over, making her stop dancing. I’m ready to apologize for staining her carpet when she leans forward, her pupils big as moons as she rests her cold hands on my cheeks.
“You’re so pretty,” she whispers as she traces the freckles along my cheeks and runs a hand through my limp dark brown hair. “I can see why Hunter likes you so much.”
A new song kicks in, and Poppy twirls away with the beat of the music before I can ask her what she means.
“You’re really pretty too,” I say, having to shout to be heard over the bass. And it’s not a lie. Everything from Poppy’s room to her hot-pink eyeshadow is picture-perfect. She’s the girl they put on brochures, the girl boys dream about.
Maybe she’s the type of girl Solina wished she could be.
Poppy smirks, sliding back toward me and taking the Hydro Flask from my hand. “You’re sweet,” she whispers against my lips before taking a swig. There’s something wicked behind her eyes, her smirk more than just cocky. It’s jolting, as if seeing her in the right light sent an electric shock through me. I take a step back, my skin vibrating until I put some distance between us. Hunter hurt my sister, but that doesn’t mean he was the only one.
“Can I play something?” I ask, gesturing to the portable speaker on her bookshelf.
Poppy hums around another sip of her drink, pulling her phone out and unlocking it before handing it to me. “Better be good.”
The bass of the song thrums beneath my fingertips as I quickly tap across the screen. She doesn’t watch me for long, quickly focusing her attention back to swaying along to the music, but I still need to move fast. Poppy may be high on who knows what, but I can’t risk getting caught looking through her texts when she’s barely a foot away from me.
While Poppy loses herself to the beat, I quickly navigate to her phone’s lock settings. The layout is somewhat familiar. I’d made sure to study it on my phone on the train ride here, just in case. Disabling the Face ID lock altogether would be way too obvious. She’d have it back up before I could ever get a chance to snag her phone again to get a proper look.
I make a show of pretending to scroll as I look intently at the camera, waiting for the phone to memorize the lines of my face. A groan gets caught in my throat as it prompts me to tilt my head down, then to the left.
“I’m totally blanking on the name of the song,” I say as I mime typing out something new while a loading icon appears on the screen.
Poppy stops dancing long enough to give me a confused look. “You asked to play a song you don’t even know the name of?”
I take a sip of my drink to buy myself some time, watching the loading icon spin and spin and spin until finally the page updates. Alternate Face ID added.
“I thought it had a different name,” I say too quickly, some of my drink sloshing down my chin. I tap away from the Security page and close the tab before handing it back to Poppy. “Sorry,” I mumble while wiping the sticky underside of my jaw.
All Poppy does is laugh, shaking her head at me before grabbing a miniature pink silk purse off her desk. “Let’s go,” she says, swaying to the beat as she walks toward the door. “Before they have too much fun without us.”
I nod and follow along behind her, grateful that she’s too blitzed to notice the sweat dotting my brow or the tremble in my hands. Poppy may seem shallow, but there’s no telling what more there is to her. I breathe easier knowing I have a way in now, if I need it.
Hopefully after tonight, I won’t.