Chapter 5
Izzy
“The semester technically hasn’t started yet,” Victoria says as she drags me by the hand to Haverhill House. “Listen to Alexis
after tomorrow.”
I dig in my heels, stopping both of us in our tracks. I got dressed when she showed up at the house, armed with makeup and
assurances that we’ll only stay at this party for a little while, but Coach’s words are still echoing in my mind. She didn’t
explicitly tell me not to party, but surely “no distractions” also means “don’t get shit-faced at senior housing.”
On the other hand, Victoria does have a point. I’m sociable by nature, and maybe I’ll be able to focus on my classes better
once I’ve scratched the party itch. Just a little, mind you. A couple of beers, a few dances, maybe some flirting. I could
definitely use the latter, because I’m not going to forget about Nikolai until I find the right distraction.
“Two drinks,” I say, trying for a stern tone. Victoria’s lips twitch as she fights a smile. “Two drinks and like fifteen minutes
of dancing. That’s it.”
“Yay!” She pulls me into a sticky hug. The late August air is irrepressibly humid; it’s going to be a swamp at Haverhill.
Hopefully the beer is semi-cold. “This is going to be so much fun.”
Aside from being my best friend, Victoria is an excellent volleyball player. She plays libero, and even as a freshman last year, she led the defense with conviction. We met in middle school during volleyball camp, and we’ve only gotten closer over the years. Balancing the intense sports schedules of four kids wasn’t easy for my parents, and whenever a tournament of mine wasn’t at the top of the list, her family would keep an eye on me. We’d eat pizza in bed at the hotel while Friends played on the television, and the next day, try our best to dominate every set we played. I still get warm fuzzies whenever
I think about how excited we were when we both got into McKee.
She marches down the sidewalk, forcing me to jog to keep up. “These heels aren’t meant for fast movement, you know.”
“The faster you go, the sooner we can get you laid.”
“I said flirting , Torie.”
“The best way to get over a breakup is with a rebound.”
“And you would know? You and Aaron are practically an old married couple.”
Victoria is dating Aaron Rembeau, the goaltender on Cooper’s team. It’s serious enough that she spent the majority of the
summer at his family’s lake house in Michigan, tanning on his boat and bonding with his cousins. A tiny, selfish part of me
hates that it worked out so well with her hockey player, but I shove that deep. Maybe I’ll get to plan the eventual Rembeau-Yoon
wedding.
She smiles, twirling her hair around her finger. Thinking about Aaron’s six-pack, I’m sure. “Yeah. I love that goof.”
“Anyway, Nik and I were never dating. There’s nothing to get over.”
“You spent the summer screwing all around Manhattan. And the Hamptons.” She stops at the crest of the hill, putting her hands
on her hips. Haverhill House—which is actually a collection of regular houses that the university bought and converted into
off-campus housing for seniors—glitters just beyond, light spilling from the windows. “And wasn’t a yacht involved? I watched
those private stories like a hawk.”
“It wasn’t his—whatever. It doesn’t matter. He’s not even here.” I take a couple of halting steps. Damn these stupid heels. “Wait up .”
The guy at the door gives us an appreciative look-over before waving us inside. The price of admission to a party like this—looking
like a snack—never fails to gross me out, but I know I didn’t dress like this for the men at the party. Sure, they can look, but I squeezed myself into this tight yellow dress, strapped my feet into these
death-heels, and put on a full face of makeup because I love looking hot.
“Drinks?” Victoria yells over the scream-shouts of Olivia Rodrigo.
Someone got a strobe light in here, making the throng of bodies dancing and chatting and hooking up look almost alien. The
whole scene is already giving me a headache, but I dressed up and came all this way, so I just smile and nod.
I chug one beer, then another, and cut myself off there. Victoria does the same, then pulls me to the dance floor. We jump
to the music, singing along to the lyrics and letting our high ponytails whip around. Sweat drips down my temple; it’s as
humid in here as it was outside, but I know it just adds to the shine on my face. Glittery highlighter, clear lip gloss. Winged
eyeliner that Victoria applied with a steady hand.
After a couple songs, I start to notice the stares. My heels make my legs look extra-long, and my bright dress is practically
a beacon in the flash of the strobe light. Victoria spins me around, laughing as I nearly lose my balance. I do the same in
retaliation, and we fall over each other. I’m only buzzed, but I can’t stop smiling. The energy of the music and the crowd
around us is acting like magic, weaving a spell that keeps my hips moving.
Someone grips my wrist, turning me around.
It’s absurd, but I feel a pinch of disappointment when I see it’s just another guy with a too-charming smile. Strong jaw, trim waist, looking like he wishes he could taste me.
Nik is hours away, in Amherst. I have to get my head on straight. I’ll never move on if I can’t prove to myself that I’m capable
of it.
I muster a smile of my own, so the guy pulls me close, grinding against me. I sway my hips to the music, breathing in the
sour smell of his sweat. His hand skims up my side, settling on my rib cage. Possessive, even though I don’t know him. I turn
in his embrace, hoping to at least ask his name. He takes that as permission to brush his fingers just above my ass.
The smile slips off my face. Why do guys always want to jump to sex? I’m sure if I gave him the right look, he’d find an unoccupied
room in this house and pull a condom from his wallet. He’s not unattractive. He has a nice smile. If we met in class instead,
and he asked me to dinner, I’d probably say yes. I don’t want to fall into last year’s pattern, settling for hookups that
never led anywhere.
And yeah, fine, I spent the summer scratching that itch with Nik with no expectation of more. But despite the casualness,
Nik cared about me. He might not have cared enough to stick around until I woke up, that last morning, but I didn’t mean absolutely
nothing to him. The first time we met up, I asked him if he only wanted to sleep with me because it would be something to lord over
Cooper. But he shook his head and said he noticed me for the first time last year, at the game UMass played at McKee. He said
I was special, and I believed him.
A beam of light in a person.
So fucking beautiful.
The way he said my name never failed to make my pulse race.
“Isabelle,” someone says into my ear.
It was just like that. Just like—
My heart skips a beat.
I glance over my shoulder—and meet Nikolai’s gaze.
I’d know that face anywhere. Tousled brown hair and a face full of tantalizing angles. Deep, practically sinful eyes. A scar
that slices from the bottom of his eyelid all the way to his jaw, giving his face undeniable seriousness. He commands—no,
demands —attention.
And here he is, looking at the guy dancing with me like he wishes he could rip his head off.
I don’t hear the music anymore. I don’t feel the sweat on my skin. I don’t notice anything or anyone but him, smirking at
me like he never left.
“Sunshine,” he purrs. “Did you miss me?”