Chapter 3 #2
Her bark-colored eyes flicked to meet mine and different emotions passed through them. Confusion. Hurt. Anger. The last one was quickly covered up with a fake smile. “Are you two together?”
Alicia and I weren’t as close as she was with Evie. We’d never tried to close the gap between us, either. However, I still didn’t want to hurt her. I’d never wanted to hurt anyone.
Yet I had. Because I was a coward. Because I didn’t want to get hurt.
I wanted to tell her we weren’t together—that I didn’t want this. Instead, I did what I always did. I just stood there.
Brandon let go of my hand to take the two beers that the guys manning the kegs held out to him. “We’re together,” he told her as he handed me one of the beers.
Alicia's fake smile wavered. “That’s so great.”
“What’s great?” Evie said as she walked up next to Alicia.
Evie was as tall as Alicia and had skin just as sun-kissed.
Tans were odd to see at the beginning of spring.
They had both gone somewhere tropical over winter break and spent every day tanning at the beach, which was why they still had a lingering glow.
Evie had shoulder-length, very pale blonde hair, unlike Alicia’s long, curly, toffee-colored hair.
“Brandon and Lottie are dating,” Alicia said with an overly cheerful tone.
Evie’s face fell. “Oh.”
“I was surprised, too. I didn’t think there was anyone at school who met her standards.” Alicia let out a fake chuckle, as if to pass her jab off as a joke. “You know how Kendrys are.”
“To be honest, I wasn’t sure if she was into men or women,” Evie said with a furrowed brow. “She really hasn’t shown any interest in anyone. When did this happen?”
“Let’s not interrogate them, Evie?” Alicia said, her tone sounding off—like standing there listening to the details of how I’d stabbed her in the back was the last thing she wanted to do.
Evie picked up on that as quickly as I had. “You’re right. We can get all the details another time.” Evie hooked arms with Alicia and the two of them took off toward another room in the house.
“Your friends aren’t very nice to you,” Brandon said just before taking a sip of his beer.
I didn’t know how to respond to that. Explaining why I deserved Alicia’s anger would betray her more and I wasn’t about to agree with him.
So I just stared down at the cup he’d handed me earlier, wondering what to do with it.
I couldn’t drink it. In fact, I’d never drunk beer before.
Beer was a big no to Mother. According to her, alcohol was empty calories.
She didn’t want me to drink, but understood that to keep up appearances amongst my peers, I’d need to.
Therefore, I was allowed to drink liquor straight up. No mixed drinks or beer.
Brandon touched my arm. “It was just an observation. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m not upset,” I lied.
We made our way down to the basement. It had been converted into a huge entertainment space with a bar in the corner, an air hockey table and pool table in the center, and a wall lined with full-size arcade machines.
That seemed to be where a lot of Brandon’s friends were.
I knew all of them. So introductions weren’t needed.
Rumors must have spread amongst them because none were surprised to see me there with their friend.
I got bored fast when they started talking about sports. It made me wonder if this was what it felt like to be an escort. Not the kind who slept with men for money, but the ones who attended events with rich men who didn’t want to go alone.
My wandering thoughts were brought back to the present when Brandon’s arm hooked around my lower back and his hand rested on my hip. It felt possessive. I didn’t like it.
Time seemed to slow down. Being uncomfortable usually did that.
I had no choice but to stand there as they talked, joked, and laughed with each other.
A few times, one of his friends tried to engage with me with questions about how Brandon and I had gotten together.
I never got to answer; Brandon spoke for me every time.
After those few attempts to include me, no one tried again.
Brandon was now on his fourth beer, while I was still holding my untouched first. With each drink he chugged down, the more he touched me.
First it was the stroking of his thumb just above my buttcheek.
Then his hand curved more around my hip until his fingers were caressing my hipbone.
Now it was fully on my ass. I tried to shift my weight from one foot to the other, thinking he might realize where he was touching me or pick up on the fact that I was uncomfortable.
His hand didn’t move. Instead, he pulled me closer to him.
His cologne filled my nose. It didn’t matter if I turned my head away, I couldn’t escape the smell.
I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The longer I stood there, the warmer the room got. I needed a break. I needed space.
I leaned close to his ear so only he would hear me. “I'm going to the restroom.” I didn’t wait for a response. My feet moved me away and out of reach.
There was a restroom in the basement. Thankfully, it looked occupied, which gave me an excuse to go upstairs.
I abandoned my beer on the first flat surface I came across. The only thing left in my hand was my purse, which I was clutching tightly. The farther away I got, the better the air felt. It wasn’t enough, though. I needed more or I was going to collapse in a full-blown panic.
I headed out the back door as soon as I saw it. There were a lot of people outside hanging out around and in the giant pool. With the weather still being a little chilly, it was surprising seeing people in the water.
I didn’t know where I was going. I just kept moving. I’d go hide behind a tree or a bush if I had to.
Weaving around people felt never-ending. It made me want to start running.
Trapped.
I was feeling trapped.
When I spotted a stone path that led toward the side of the house and away from the pool area, away from people, I took it without thought to where it would end.
The farther I walked, the quieter and darker it got.
Not completely dark, though; little solar lanterns lined my path and each of the trees around the property had bright lights in the ground at its base, pointing up to illuminate its trunk and branches.
As soon as I rounded the corner of the house, I stopped.
Out of view, I put a hand on my chest and began pacing back and forth, each time walking just a few feet along the wall, staring at my dimly lit shoes.
I rubbed at my chest, gasping with each breath as I tried to calm down.
The music was not as loud, the sound of people talking and laughing was distant, but my heart still drummed in my ears.
What am I going to do?
I didn’t want to go back.
Calm down.
It was hard. I was too overwhelmed. I needed an outlet. Not having one pissed me off.
I breathed out a curse. “Fuck.”
It helped. Getting angry helped.
I cursed again and again, my voice getting a little louder each time.
My phone began ringing in my purse. What if it was Mother?
What if it was Brandon looking for me? Something inside me just snapped.
I stopped pacing and threw my purse as hard as I could at the side of Tristen’s house.
My bag hit with a loud thunk. The impact made it pop open, and as it fell to the ground, almost everything inside spilled out onto the stone path.
My wallet, makeup, a just-in-case tampon, and my phone clattered and slid near my feet.
My phone finished ringing and the screen showed that I had a missed call from Evie.
She rarely ever called me. I could only assume it was to interrogate me about my relationship with Brandon.
Feeling ridiculous, I squatted with the intent to pick up my things, but my arms felt too heavy to move. I let out a defeated, loud sigh as I stared at the mess.
“You okay, Lottie?” a familiar male voice asked.
I turned my head slowly in the direction of the voice.
Monroe and two guys I didn’t recognize were standing about fifteen feet away, off the path, under a brightly lit tree.
All three of them were stunned still as they stared at me.
I should have been embarrassed by what they had just witnessed.
Maybe deep down I was just a little, but I was too stressed out to care.
Monroe had a joint in his hand—freshly lit, by the look of it. I stood, abandoning my stuff still on the ground, and made my way over to them. As soon as I was off the stone path, my heels sank into the grass. I let out another curse, stepped out of my pumps, and continued barefoot.
The three of them watched me approach. I could tell from a quick glance that Monroe’s friends were not from the north side of the bridge, not that I cared.
It was their ripped jeans, faded graphic tees, tattoos, and piercings that gave them away.
One of them was blond. Or maybe he wasn’t.
His roots were dark. The other stood between Monroe and the blond.
He was the tallest of the three and had short, brown hair styled to look messy.
From what I could see, he had the most tattoos out of the three.
Where Monroe and his blond friend had tattoos scattered in different places on their arms, the brunette had full sleeves.
I met Monroe’s blue eyes, which looked dark without the sun to show off their color, before I plucked the joint from his fingers.
His brows rose, but he didn’t say anything as I brought the joint to my lips. I wasn’t that freshman waiting on the curb for her ride. I had smoked many times since then. So when I took a puff, I didn’t cough.
I had this ridiculous hope that getting high would immediately take away my troubles. It didn’t. As I exhaled, though, I did feel my body relax a little.
I found myself staring at the brunette’s T-shirt.
It was black with a faded whiskey company logo on it.
I didn’t really like whiskey. It burned too much going down.
I supposed all alcohol did. Maybe that was why I didn’t like to drink that often.
No, I definitely had a better reason for not liking alcohol.
“Lottie?” Monroe said, pulling me from my daze.
I looked to my left, meeting Monroe’s eyes again. He was frowning.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I think I got engaged today,” I blurted.
His frown was quickly washed away by surprise.
“I don’t know why I’m surprised. Everything else in my life has been planned for me.
Why not pick the guy I’m supposed to fuck the rest of my life.
” I took another puff and held it in for a few heartbeats before exhaling.
“The worst thing about having your life planned for you is that you can see the future. I’m going to go to a college I don’t want to go to, while shackled to a guy I don’t want to be with.
It’ll be expected of me to be the perfect, loyal fiancée.
And by perfect, I’ll have to be supportive of his hopes and dreams all while faking an orgasm every time I have to have sex with him.
He’ll be loyal to me. That is, for at least halfway through freshman year of college.
His excuses will be that he got too drunk or he was tired of getting teased by his frat buddies for being tied down or some other stupid reason I won’t care to know.
I’ll turn a blind eye because what else am I supposed to do?
We’ll get married after graduation and I’ll go work for my grandfather’s company.
I’ll eventually get promoted quickly because I’d rather be at work than home.
My husband will continue to sleep with other women but won’t bother hiding it anymore and his excuse will be that I work too much.
Again, I won’t care. Better them than me.
Also because I’ll be too busy sitting on my assistant’s face, not having to fake anything, between meetings in my corner office. ”
I was pretty sure my verbal diarrhea left them speechless, because no one said anything for a good minute. Until Blondie finally spoke.
“What the hell did you put in that joint, Roe?”
I glanced at Blondie as I took one last small puff. He was staring at Monroe with a stunned expression.
“I’m a little scared to ask her to give it back to us,” Blondie said. “Or are all girls at Kendry this candid?”
I held the joint out to him. “I’m having a pity party, and I wouldn’t say we’re all honest, but we’re definitely all entitled pricks at Kendry.”
Before Blondie took the joint from me, the brunette snagged it from my fingers. “At least you’re aware,” he mumbled as he brought the joint to his mouth. His voice was deep, and his eyes were narrowed as he stared at me.
Monroe gave the brunette a disapproving look.
“Except for you, Monroe,” I said, capturing his attention.
“Except for me what?” he asked.
“You aren’t one of us,” I said, making him frown again. “And don’t ever try to be. You don’t want to be like us. After graduation you’re going to go off and be amazing, successful, and powerful. You’re too smart not to.”
His frown never let up. “Have you been drinking?”
“No.” I could see why he thought that. I’d spoken more to him now than in the past four years combined. I didn’t know why. I always did things around him I didn’t normally do. Maybe this time was because I was desperate for an outlet.
The sound of my phone ringing from the ground made me close my eyes and sigh.
“I have to go back.” Despite being relaxed from the joint, my voice still held reluctance.
Fear was my only reason for turning around and walking back to my stuff.
“Thanks for the vent session,” I said over my shoulder as I scooped up my heels.
As I was quickly putting things back into my purse, Monroe spoke. “What if I don’t want to be powerful?”
With the last of my things picked up and stuffed into my small purse, I stood to face Monroe. He had the joint and was exhaling the smoke through pursed lips.
“What if I want to be an assistant?” he said.
Blondie huffed a laugh, and the brunette rolled his eyes.
It took me a second, but I realized what he was implying. My heart did a little skip. Not out of fear. It was a different feeling I wasn’t used to. It was a little bit euphoric and made me feel jittery beneath my skin. “I’m not sure you’re qualified to be my assistant.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Oh, I’m qualified.”
I had a witty retort, but before I could say it, my phone rang again. Whatever I was feeling with Monroe was quickly snuffed out. I needed to go back before Brandon came looking for me. “I’ll have to take your word for it,” I said as I took the path back to the party.