Chapter 2 #2
It was already packed. The familiar faces of all my former classmates filled the cookie-cutter house.
Most of them turned to greet Cherry first, and then their eyebrows arched in confusion when they saw me.
I knew exactly what they were thinking. I wasn’t supposed to be here.
Cherry led me to the kitchen. The pounding bass of the music bled into my thoughts, so loud I felt it in my ribs.
I wondered how long it would take before someone called the cops.
The neighbors were probably already regretting their life choices.
“So,” Cherry said once we reached the kitchen counter.
“Pick your poison. Oh wait,” she teased, “it’s you.
” Her hands skimmed past the alcohol bottles and landed instead on a bottle of soda.
She poured it into a red plastic cup and handed it to me without missing a beat.
I gave her a sarcastic smile, just for show.
She already knew how much I appreciated that she never tried to convince me to drink.
“And for me…” she trailed off, turning back to examine the bottles like she was considering a potion.
I tuned her out. Booze talk didn’t interest me.
Instead, I looked around the room. I’d gone to Hawking for four years.
I knew most of these people like a bad habit.
And yet, tonight they seemed… different.
Looser. Lighter. Smiling with their whole faces like nothing could touch them.
It wasn’t real. I knew that. It was the alcohol and the pills talking, whispering sweet lies to their brains.
I was caught in that observation, studying the faces I thought I understood, when someone stepped up beside me.
I saw the blonde hair first. Then the tattoo on his neck.
And finally, the smirk tugging at his lips, like he’d caught me mid-lie.
“I thought you said you didn’t drink?”
I pursed my lips, running my eyes over his face instead of answering his stupid question.
He was handsome. There was no way around it.
He had a sharp jaw, his lips full. His eyes were blue, but not the kind that invited attention.
They weren’t light or striking in an obvious way.
They were dark, heavy with depth, the kind of blue that swallowed light instead of reflecting it.
The color reminded me of deep water, the kind you couldn’t see the bottom of, the kind that looked calm until you imagined what lived beneath it.
His face carried evidence of impact. Faint scars cut through his skin, uneven and pale against the rest of him, as if they’d been earned over time rather than all at once.
Nothing about them felt dramatic or intentional.
They were simply there, markers of fights that had already happened and were no longer being explained.
And at that moment, all of it annoyed me. I didn’t know him and he didn’t know me. He belonged to a different world, the one that claimed Holden. He didn’t have a right to be here, at a party with my friends from my high school. And he definitely didn’t have a right to look hot while doing it.
“She doesn’t,” Cherry’s voice snapped me back to reality. I felt her elbow land on my shoulder as she leaned into me. I looked over. She was eyeing tattoo-boy like he was a snack. “But I do.” I was amused by her bluntness, and the new purr she’d suddenly adopted in her voice.
“She doesn’t? Looks like she does,” he said, tilting his cup until it tapped against mine.
“Soda,” I muttered, rolling my eyes, taking another sip.
“Who the hell are you?” Cherry asked, swiping a strand of hair from her face. “You don’t go to Hawking.”
“And considering graduation was last week, you don’t anymore either,” he said. His words were aimed at Cherry, but his eyes hadn’t left my face. “West Bridge.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” she pushed, “who are you?”
“Austin,” he said. The same name he gave me last weekend. The one I’d forgotten.
“Austin,” Cherry repeated. “I’m Cherry.”
“Cherry?” Austin raised his eyebrows, finally flicking his gaze toward her. “Like the fruit.”
“Like the fruit,” she echoed, holding her hand out. He reached for it, but right before their hands touched, she pulled hers back. “Should we really shake hands or just make out?”
I laughed, turning aside. Austin’s mouth curved into a smile that didn’t rush. His eyes met mine, steady and unreadable, and then he spoke, like it was always his move.
“I think I already had my full serving of fruits and vegetables today.”
“Oh?” Cherry lifted an eyebrow, unfazed. “Let me guess. You’re looking for a serving of something else? Maybe… something that starts with B and ends with lair.”
“Oh my god, Cherry. Shut up,” I said, because there was no version of this conversation where she stopped on her own.
“What?” she shrugged, grinning like an idiot. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“He doesn’t even know me,” I protested, flicking my eyes between the two of them. Austin was watching us like we were his favorite show.
“You don’t know her?” Cherry asked Austin. “You’re a stranger?”
“We just met,” Austin said. “Actually—”
“Hey, Blair.” He was cut off by an approaching guy. It took me a second to place him. He graduated last year. Brandon, I think. “Haven’t seen you at these parties before.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess. This one dragged me out,” I said, jerking my thumb toward Cherry.
“Well, it’s nice to see you,” Brandon continued, offering one of the two cups he was holding. “I thought you might be thirsty.”
“Oh, actually I don’t—” I shook my head, keeping my arms at my sides.
“Drink,” Cherry said at the exact same time I did.
Like lightning, she grabbed the cup and tilted it back into her mouth.
“But I do. Thanks!” I looked up at the ceiling.
Wondering, once again, why God insisted on testing my patience by giving me a best friend like Cherry.
“Oh,” she added, completely unfazed, “I spy someone whose clothes I want to rip off. And sorry, Austin, it’s not you this time. ”
“Wait, Cherry—” Too late. She was already halfway across the room. Her hand landed on Lucas’s chest as she batted her eyelashes.
“She’s… well, she’s something,” Austin muttered, pulling my focus back to him.
“That she is,” I replied, sipping from my cup. “If something was unmedicated ADHD that learned to talk back.”
Austin chuckled, the sound low in his chest. Then, suddenly, his face tightened. His laugh cut short. His gaze turned sharp as he looked over to Brandon, who was still standing beside.
“Is there a reason you’re still standing here?
” Austin’s tone had changed. His voice was edged now.
He was staring Brandon down like he was measuring how fast he could take him out.
Brandon looked at me. Hesitated. I could see the moment he debated whether or not I was worth the trouble.
Apparently, I wasn’t. He shrugged, shook his head, and walked away.
Brandon disappeared into the crowd, swallowed by noise and movement.
Austin didn’t look away immediately. He stood there a moment longer, jaw set, like he was making sure it was finished.
I stayed where I was. Austin did too. For a moment, I wasn’t sure what to say.
Or if I should say anything at all. I waited for him to break the silence, for some explanation or dismissal, but he didn’t offer one.
A minute passed, then two. Maybe five. Long enough for it to start feeling intentional.
The silence stretched. Not hostile, just…
present. Heavy in a way that made me too aware of how close Austin was standing, of the solid line of his body beside mine, of the fact that he hadn’t walked away.
Finally, because the quiet had started to feel awkward and I didn’t know what else to do with it, I asked him about Brandon. “What was that about?” I said. “You don’t like him?”
Austin’s mouth curved, just slightly. Not a grin. Not smug. More like quiet satisfaction, like he’d waited me out on purpose. “I don’t know him,” he said evenly.
I tilted my head. “What? If you don’t know him, why were you so rude?” I asked.
“Who says I have to know someone to dislike them?” Austin shrugged. “It’s all about the vibes. I’m good at reading people, you know. Like I can see right through everyone’s act. Right down to their core.”
“Oh really?” I muttered. “Somehow I doubt that.”
“No, seriously,” Austin insisted. “Like your friend, what was her name? Grape?”
“Cherry,” I arched my brow. That name’s not exactly forgettable. Judging by the grin on his face, he hadn’t forgotten at all.
“Right. Cherry. Let me guess… loud, bubbly, forward, blunt… but inside? Wildly insecure. Let me guess again, no one sees that but her closest friends. And judging from the way you two finish each other’s sentences, that’s you. And only you.”
My smile dropped. He was right. That was Cherry. Wrapped up in a tiny red bow.
“How’d I do? Pretty good, right?” he said, grinning like he already knew the answer.
“You did alright,” I said, trying to hide my surprise.
“Hm,” he hummed, leaning closer. His voice dropped. “And I bet you want to know what I see about you, Yellow.”
“Yellow?” I asked, repeating the name he seemed to have given me.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “Yellow. Your hair.” He tugged gently on a strand of it. “Your dress. Your personality,” he added, backing away. “Yellow.”
“You don’t even know me,” I said.
“Yeah, maybe,” he said, unbothered. “But I see you. And you’re Yellow.” No words left my mouth. I just stared. There was something about the way he said it. Like he really could see me. And that thought scared me. “How’s your brother?” he asked, his smile fading.
“My brother?” I echoed, the trance finally breaking.
“Yeah,” he said, frowning. “Last weekend? Last time I saw you, you were climbing into an ambulance with him.”