Chapter 15
Fifteen
Zee
Am I crazy for going to this party instead of spending the night with Kon?
A little.
But coffee with Kon only brought more questions I can’t ignore.
Like, what the hell was all that tension with Liv? She supports us getting together. So why’s he so weird about it?
He likely thought his warning would stop me, but it’s done the opposite. If Liv has more details, I need to hear them.
I just wish she had mentioned the dress code.
The bass muffles around me when I step inside Eastmount Manor. The vaulted ceilings and shiny dark wood make me feel as small as a moth.
It’s hard not to make an entrance with a sparkling chandelier hanging low over the foyer. It casts a hell of a spotlight on the shiny marble floors.
And on me.
I’ve worn the same skirt I wore to the interview, paired with a baggy, cropped tank. I've scrubbed my high-tops as clean as they can get.
But I still don’t fit in.
Every other girl in the room wears white. Silk. Lace. Cashmere. There's hardly any skin on display.
I tug my top down further, glancing around at the faces in the room. No one gives mean looks, but there are looks.
Plenty.
A group of young women pauses their conversation, champagne flutes hovering by their painted lips. Young men watch from a railing overlooking the foyer, sipping from their whiskey glasses like they're watching a movie.
Everyone here looks like they’re ready for a photoshoot, while I look like I fell off a Target catalogue.
I move into the next room, two young men smiling as I walk through the archway. Large leather sofas sit backed against the wall, a roaring fireplace in the middle. Young women sit on the laps of men, whispering in their ears.
My eyes flick back to the fireplace, narrowing on something above it. Stepping towards it, the image sharpens, the dim lighting enough to make the gold shine.
The fuck?
It’s the same symbol stamped into my father’s head.
I squint.
Is this the same symbol I saw in Atlas’s car?
Heat pricks my neck.
Something shifts in my peripheral vision, outside the window nearest the door.
I turn to it.
My body stills.
There's a shadow. Right in the middle. And it’s staring right in here.
Sugar Skull?
Looking around the room, no one else notices. They're too involved in their conversations.
My phone vibrates in my hand. Bringing my screen into view, a text appears across it. One that makes my stomach churn.
Unknown: leave
“Pardon me.”
A smooth, deep voice comes from in front of me, my shoulders rising.
Oh, damn…
A young man towers over me, his long, shiny dark hair cut blunt at the ends. It works for him, framing that sharp jawline. He greets me with a sparkling smile and a flick of a card.
I take it, his finger lingering on my skin when I do.
I’m expecting his contact info, but instead there’s a two-digit number.
Eighteen.
Looking up, he’s already walking away with his hand in his pockets.
Glancing back at the window, heat dances on my neck again.
It’s still there.
That shadow.
Unmoving.
I move towards the window.
“Pssst.”
A whispered call comes from my right.
Pulling my eyes away from the window, a tall guy leans against the fireplace. It’s a face I’ve seen before.
That scar. The one I made.
Ezra.
He looks as unbothered as he did at the bar, leaning against the brick wall with a glass of liquor in his hand. He’s dressed like the other guys in a blazer, except he doesn’t have a shirt underneath, exposing ripples of muscles I didn’t expect.
I glare.
He tilts his head, calling me over even though he’s just a few feet away.
I snarl before a squeal comes from behind me.
“Zee! You’re here!” Liv.
Turning around, she holds a glass filled to the brim with clear liquid. She pushes it towards me, some spilling over the sides and onto her white outfit. Her pinkish hair stands out tonight against her basic shiny slip dress. She wears it up, adorned with pink butterfly clips.
“I’m so happy you’re here!”
“You didn’t tell me about the dress code.” Taking the glass, I take a sip. A piney bitterness washes over my tongue.
Gin.
I take a longer sip next, the burn in my chest settling the spin in my gut.
“You’re fine! Look around you.” Her hands land on my shoulder, spinning me around the room.
My eyes scan for the shadow. Then Ezra.
Both gone.
“Every guy in here wants you on their dick tonight,” Liv says.
I almost choke on another sip. “Is that why Kon was worried?”
I don’t realize I’ve said that out loud until Liv’s eyes widen. “Professor Velochok?!”
“Keep it down!” I hide my face behind the glass as I take another long drink. Some girls glance over, forcing me to keep the glass there longer.
Liv laughs, vodka coming off her breath. “I need to hear this. Let’s get more drinks!” She takes my hand, tugging me through the room and back through the foyer.
We end up in a large kitchen, Liv pushing through the crowd as my eyes wander the space.
Like the rest of the manor, the kitchen screams old money.
Marble floors and expensive wood decorate the cabinets.
There’s even intricate crown moulding in the ceiling, a smaller chandelier hanging above the island.
“Excuse us!” Liv shouts, pushing through bodies. “Forbidden ass coming through!”
Heads shoot to us as Liv loudly makes her way to the stack of alcohol set on the kitchen island. She grabs a bottle of vodka and pours some into a glass before handing it to me.
She holds the whole bottle to my glass. “I’m really happy you’re here, Zee.”
“Well, then.” I lift my glass higher. “To me.”
Liv laughs. “To you, Zee.”
We take another drink. Then another.
Liv refills my glass every time I take a sip, and I’m not sure how many we have in the span of an hour.
Between sips of vodka, Liv gossips about other students. Heirs to fortunes. Kids of celebrities, musicians, athletes, and politicians.
Then there’s me.
“Why are you so nice to me?” I ask as Liv refills my glass again.
My high-tops dangle above the floor as we sit on the counter, a bowl of salty potato chips between us.
Liv shrugs. “You’re more like me than them.”
"You hardly know me."
She laughs. "It's totally obvious, babe. Or you would’ve given me your business card by now.”
Card. Reaching into my bra, I pull out the card the hottie gave me when I came in. “Wait, do you know what this card means?”
“How bold.” Liv takes it with another laugh. “It’s a claim.”
My head jerks back, Kon’s words ringing through my head.
“These claimings happen every year, and it’s outdated, lame and misogynistic.”
“Did you get one?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m not staying. Told daddy this morning. And you inspired me.”
“Wait. You’re leaving?” I notice the slur in my voice, my tongue fighting to find words. “No!”
Liv's eyes widen like an idea hits her before she takes my hands. “Leave with me!”
I laugh, “I just got here.”
“Here is boring. Let’s shake all these fucked up expectations." Liv kicks a foot into the air before she spins and grabs me by my shoulders. “We can like…really do something with ourselves.”
I laugh as I watch her, letting whatever she’s ingested get to her head. “I need the money. That’s why I’m here."
Or you want another cuddle with your stalker, you fucked up whore.
“I have money.” She spreads her arms wide, spinning around. “I have all the money in the world, honey!”
“Liv!”
A voice cuts through the kitchen.
My head turns to it.
The bartender from Smith’s storms into the room, her long dark hair flowing behind her. Her cream pleated skirt and golf shirt almost match the other girls'. But that oversized boxy cardigan sets her apart.
“Alaina!” Liv runs up to her, meeting her in the middle. She throws her arms around Alaina, but Alaina doesn’t look too happy.
Alaina pushes Liv back, glancing around the room. “Get it the hell together, Liv!” Then Alaina’s eyes land on me, hardening. “Why are you with her?”
“Who, Zee?” Liv laughs. “She’s not—”
“Come on!” Alaina grabs her arm in a tight grip, pulling Liv out of the kitchen.
“Wait!” I call after them, a stumble in my step when I hop off the counter. “What’s going on?”
Liv holds up a hand, rolling her eyes. “It’s okay,” she slurs. “I know her.” Alaina tugs her along. “Ow! Alaina!”
I can see Alaina’s grip tighten from here, her knuckles whitening as she says something in Liv’s ear. Then she stands tall, giving Liv a nudge forward. “Go. Now.”
Liv looks back at me with a pout.
“Don’t you leave!” She points at me. “I’ll be right back. Promise.”
Alaina glares before she follows Liv out of the kitchen.
There goes my only friend.
Taking Liv’s giant vodka bottle, I follow them out of the room, watching as Alaina takes Liv down a long, dark hallway.
My eyes narrow on something in the distance.
In the corner of the hallway.
Heat dances on my neck as I lean in closer.
My phone vibrates in my hand.
My head snaps down.
Kon: where are you?
Rolling my eyes, I type back a response.
Zee: @ the party waiting to be claimed
His response is instant.
Kon: not funny
Looking ahead, I search for the figure I saw in the distance before my phone vibrates again.
Kon: just go home
Zee: ur no fun
A hand lands on my shoulder.
My muscles tense.
I spin around.
My words stall when I see who it is. “Reggie.”
His crisp black shirt clings to his muscles, pants pleated to perfection.
“Zee,” he replies, his eyes wandering over my outfit. They linger on my crop top as I stand taller. "Care to dance?”
Reggie takes my hand, pulling me to the middle of the room. Confident. And he smells good, too. Peppery and smoky. He takes the bottle out of my hand and gives it to a girl walking by. Then he leads me to the dancefloor.
A house song gets louder as we get on the floor. Glancing around, we’re in what looks like an actual ballroom. My eyes flick up to the ceiling to see a mural of angels above us.
“This is a small one,” Reggie says, reading my mind.
“It’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen."
His hands slide onto my hips. “That won’t be the last time you say that.”
I laugh at his lame joke, his grin widening. One that’s kinda charming. He pulls me closer with the same controlled confidence that most men in Eastmount have. But right now, in this moment, it’s just me and a hottie on the dancefloor, swaying to a hypnotizing rhythm.
Reggie spins me around so my ass hits his hard body, then his arms come around me. The rhythm picks up, and he moves his hips a little faster against mine. I’m not a great dancer, but with him, I don’t have to be. He leads me. It's easy.
Reggie whispers in my ear. “Ready?”
“For wh—”
Before I can finish my sentence, he takes one hand, pushing against my hips so I spin out, then he pulls me back in with a low dip.
Our gaze meets. He leans closer.
Crash!
He lifts me to his body, glass shattering around his shiny designer loafers.
Heat sits on my chest as I glance back at Reggie. He raises his head without panic, looking around the room.
When I look down, my brows furrow. A bottle of gin spills out onto the floor, shards of glass around it.
“Did someone throw that at us?” I ask, my chest tightening.
Reggie laughs, light and smooth. “We’re competitive.” He pulls me closer, his hands on the small of my back. “I don’t blame them. Let me take you away, Zee.”
"Like in one of the rooms?"
"No. Away. For the weekend."
Now that makes me laugh. “You don’t know me. What’s with everyone trying to take me away? Is Eastmount so bad?”
“It’s not." Reggie's hands glide down my body. “They can see you’re special, Zee. I see it too.”
“And what makes me so special?”
“Come to the mountain this weekend.” Reggie pulls me to him, circling as we step over broken glass. His chest presses against mine, his lips close. “Come with me, and I’ll tell you exactly what makes you special.”
I’ll admit Reggie’s coming on strong. “Wh-what would Kon think?”
“I don’t have to worry about Kon, do I?” The confidence in Reggie does something to me, and I’m too intoxicated to run the math on this, but I try.
I’ve never been on a mountain retreat, but my mind’s already there. I imagine Reggie and me sipping expensive cocktails by a fireplace with a real fur rug.
I’m knocked out of my daydream as something cold splashes over my back.
“Oh shoot!” A girl behind me exclaims.
When I turn around, a girl in a short white dress stands behind me, an empty glass in her hand, her eyes on the ground.
“I’m sooo sorry.” She reaches for my back, her cheeks flushed.
“Don't sweat it." I wave her off. “Reggie, do you have a napkin?”
I turn back.
He's gone.
“Reggie?”
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!”
A piercing scream rips through the room.
The music stops, replaced by chatter as students move to the sound.
I follow them to the long, dark hallway I was in earlier.
“It’s Olivia,” someone ahead whispers.
"Liv?" My heart pounds, and before I know it, I’m pushing through the crowd."Liv!"
When I get to the front, the crowd stares into an open door.
A bedroom. Wood panels and marble.
That’s when I see her.
Liv sprawled across a bed, her eyes wide open.
A silver knife to her chest.