Chapter Seventeen Eve of ution
Seventeen
Eve of Execution
Tonight is Everett’s party, and all I can think is This is a mistake.
I can’t believe I allowed Jasmine to talk me into going, and my nerves are sky-high as Kabir—Kab, as he keeps insisting I call him—pulls onto Winding Way.
The secluded residential road overlooks Sturgeon Lake and is lined on one side with sprawling brick mansions set far apart from each other.
I’m sandwiched between Jasmine and Connor in the back seat of Kab’s Camry, next to Topher, who’s also from football.
Layla, Kab’s girlfriend, sits in the front seat, mouthing every word to some rap song I’ve never heard of and grooving like she’s in a dance club, hands up over her head.
When we pull up at the biggest house on the street, I try not to gawk. Everett’s grandparents are loaded.
“Party!” Layla whoops, stepping out onto the curb, still bopping along like she’s in that club. She’s wearing a next-to-nothing outfit that shows off her ass. Most of the girls on the lawn are taking this opportunity to flaunt the goods, it seems. Even Jasmine’s wearing a too-small halter top.
Me? Flannel and jeans, as always. I so do not fit in with this crowd.
Why am I here?
The party is already in full swing. Kab took forever to pick us up; from Layla’s disheveled hair, I deduced the reason.
When we get to the backyard, it’s wall-to-wall Crockett students, dancing to the hip-hop music blasting from the exterior speakers.
It isn’t even sixty degrees out, yet a bunch of kids have stripped to their underwear, splashing in a kidney-shaped pool.
Several kegs are stacked by the patio door, and the smell of weed is thick enough to get me high with just a couple more whiffs.
I feel like the entire school is here tonight. People are practically oozing out the windows.
“Ryan!” someone calls.
I don’t have to search the crowd. Everett stands a full head taller than almost everybody, and the sea of people seems to part to let him through. He’s wearing a sky-blue jersey with the number 11 on it and carrying a red Solo cup. His face is flushed, and his grin is boyish glee.
“You came!” he says over the music.
“I did,” I say as someone behind him screams, “Belly flop!” and launches himself into the pool. Girls squeal, soaked by the resulting splash.
Everett grabs my arm and leads me deeper into the party. I hear Jasmine call, “Have fun!” but when I turn to find her, the crowd has already swallowed her up.
“You want a drink?” he offers.
I nod. I don’t usually drink much, but I feel out of my element and might need some help loosening up.
There’s a drink table near the pool cabana. Everett tugs on my hand and we walk toward it. He pours some watery keg beer into a red cup, passing it to me.
“I really thought you were gonna bail on me,” he says as he watches me take a small sip.
“I almost did,” I admit.
He laughs, leaning in a little closer. “C’mere,” he says, taking my hand again to lead me closer to the cabana. “I can barely hear you.”
We find a more secluded spot by the pool. The moonlight casts soft shadows over his face, emphasizing his handsome features. Smiling at me, Everett brushes a stray hair back from my face, letting his fingers linger just a bit too long.
Then a soft laugh and a muffled moan break through the quiet.
We both glance around until we land on the source: Chase and a brunette, locked in an intense make-out session against the wooden cabana.
He has her backed up against the wall, his hands resting on her waist, hers tangled in his blond hair.
Everett snorts. “Oops.”
I edge away. “We should probably leave them to it.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t wanna interrupt the master at work.” He winks at me. “Although I gotta admit, I was hoping you’d be the one having the most fun tonight.”
As we walk off to give Chase some privacy, I give Everett a sidelong look, unable to stop my next words.
“I don’t think Chase likes me very much.”
“He doesn’t like anyone,” Everett replies, chuckling.
“He likes you,” I point out.
“Because we’ve known each other forever.”
“Yet you don’t travel in the same social circles.”
“Chase doesn’t have a social circle. Stays to himself.”
“But he’s here.”
“He comes to these things to drink and hook up,” Everett answers with a grin. “Not to make friends.”
“Everett!” someone shouts from the patio sliding door. “Pizza guy’s here!”
“Coming!” he shouts back before taking my hand. “C’mon, keep me company while I deal with it.”
We end up getting separated when the crowd presses in on us. Everett disappears ahead of me, and I’m almost at the patio when Sofia blocks my path. She’s wearing a skimpy bikini top and a short denim skirt, her dark hair tied up in a high ponytail.
“Hi, Ryan,” she mocks.
She’s drunk—I can smell the alcohol on her breath when she leans into me.
“Sofia,” I say politely.
“He’s going to get tired of you so fast.” She’s slurring her words as she flicks her unimpressed gaze over me. “So fast. You’re totally not his type. He just wants to fuck you.”
Before I can say a word, one of the other cheerleaders grabs her by the arm and says, “Sof, it’s okay, she’s not worth it.”
Sofia stumbles off, and now even more people are looking my way. I search for an ally, but Connor is in the water with Kab and Layla, laughing his ass off. And Jasmine is…I spot her on the other side of the pool, flirting with Bo, her brother’s teammate who she clearly has a crush on.
Sighing, I slip inside to search for Everett.
The interior of his grandparents’ house is gorgeous. The two-story living area features a massive stone fireplace and leads into a huge, country-style kitchen with granite counters. It’s like something out of a Southern home-decorating magazine.
Everett’s nowhere to be seen, so I keep walking until I find a smaller living room.
The den, I suppose. A few seniors are sprawled all over the brown leather sectional, watching a big-screen television.
Nikki is there too, draped over the lap of a dark-haired boy.
Their glassy eyes tell me they’re either drunk or high.
I glance at the screen. It’s tuned to the news, and the ticker underneath the reporter says countdown to thorn execution.
Really? So it’s like New Year’s Eve to these people?
My stomach threatens to revolt, but Everett suddenly appears in the hall.
“There you are,” he says. He pulls me to the side, against a pillar near the sweeping staircase, and kisses me. “Let’s go up to my room?”
I don’t have time to answer, as someone lets out a sharp, wall-shaking scream.
Everett’s eyes widen with concern. “Squirt?” He pushes off the pillar, bursting into the den. “What’s going on?”
I follow right behind him to find Nikki sitting bolt upright on the couch, her face a mask of horror. Everyone in the room is staring at the TV in shock and confusion. Everett glances at it, then sucks in a breath. Before I can blink, he’s kneeling in front of his sister, taking her hands.
“Hey, it’s okay, squirt,” he soothes. “Listen to me, Nikki. It’s okay.”
I don’t understand what’s happening until I read the new caption on the screen.
gabriel thorn hangs himself on eve of execution.
Gabriel Thorn hung himself in prison.
My father hung himself.
My father is dead.
For a moment, all I can do is stare, the words not seeping in. They hover out there, because I don’t know how to feel.
Nikki rips her hands from her brother’s, digging the heels of them into her eye sockets. “This can’t be happening! What about justice? We were supposed to get justice!” she screeches.
Everett’s expression doesn’t make sense to me. His eyes are bleary, maybe even a little watery.
Why are they so upset about this? I get that everyone in this town hates my father, but nobody else in this room is shaking as hard as Nikki is…
Slowly, understanding trickles in.
Everett told me his mother died.
But…he never told me how she died, and now the pieces are sliding together to form a sick puzzle. His mother didn’t just die.
My father killed her.