CHAPTER 10
I stand outside Lance’s house, staring at the flickering lights spilling from the windows and the noise of laughter mixed with music spilling into the night.
Lance’s parents’ house is in the high end neighborhood, with all the houses luxurious and fancy.
We may not be broke or poor, you know, since Mark’s a doctor and he’s doing well for himself, we don’t live in this side of town.
High school parties have never been my thing—just a tangled web of social dynamics I’d rather avoid.
But here I am, reluctantly following Tripp's enthusiastic lead, Lance’s pressure and long speech about how he’ll be disappointed if I didn’t show up, and also this is part of the hockey team’s latest bonding exercise.
It’s been a week since I joined the team, and I’m going to say, Lance is the best thing that’s ever happened to the team. He's like the glue holding the team together even though Hayes is the captain. He’s just too nice. You can’t help but like him. He reminds me a lot about Seth.
“Come on, Dakota! Just a few hours! I can’t believe I’m the one dragging you to your team party!” Tripp insists, his eyes sparkling with excitement as we get down from my car.
Yes, it has finally been fixed.
“I am going to fucking regret this,” I grumble, shoving my hands deeper into my pockets as Tripp drags me toward Lance’s fancy house.
There are a lot of cars parked outside, a lot of luxurious cars. Parties like this reminds me that Crestview Preparatory is for the rich and the wealthy. And Hayes fucking Griffin sits at the top of that pinnacle.
“Nah, you won’t. You spent four years in New York. You can handle any shit thrown at you.” Tripp says.
Yeah, Seth and I usually hit clubs in the weekends back in New York City. Top clubs. Perks of being an underground fighter. It was cool and fun. And it’s nothing compared to high school parties. So this is definitely going to suck for me even though it’s not my first high school party.
“Plus, I want to see you get a little loose for once,” Tripp says, flashing a grin as he pulls open the door.
As soon as we step inside, the music hits me like a wave, drowning out my reluctance. The house is packed, people dancing, chatting, and cups sloshing over. I feel like a fish out of water, the energy swirling around me while I try to find a spot where I don’t feel so exposed.
For a team bonding party, there are a lot of alcohol, girls making out with guys in the staircase and in the dark corner of the house, and so many people from our school that I don’t know.
“See? Not so bad!” Tripp nudges me like it’s my first high school party, already scanning the crowd for familiar faces. “Let’s grab a drink and mingle!”
I nod, but I’m not convinced. The last thing I want is to be cornered by some hyperactive classmates. I make my way to the kitchen, pouring myself a drink, and try to blend into the background.
“Look who finally decided to join the fun!” a familiar voice cuts through the noise. It’s Lance, wearing a broad smile as he approaches me. “Dakota! You made it!”
“Yeah, I’m here,” I reply, forcing a smile as I take a sip from my fruit punch.
“You remember Tripp,” I say to Lance, gesturing to Tripp’s lanky frame by my side.
Lance turns to Tripp. “Yeah. Sup, man.”
“Cool.” Tripp says, flashing Lance a small smile as they shake hands.
“I’ve seen you play. You’re good.”
“Thanks. I try,” Tripp says, obviously grinning even though I’m not looking at him, but surfing the crowd for a familiar face.
Tripp likes to act like praises don’t get to him. But he likes it.
“Just wait until everyone gets warmed up. It’ll be wild,” Lance says, grabbing my attention, his enthusiasm contagious.
I open my mouth to reply, but my gaze drifts across the room to where Hayes is sitting down on a long couch, surrounded by his usual entourage—his girlfriend, Shay, beside him.
The sight sends a jolt of irritation through me.
Hayes seems to command attention effortlessly, his charm radiating, making everyone around him laugh.
I hate how easily he fits into this scene, how he always looks like he belongs.
And right now as I watch him from across the room, I hate how good looking and irresistible he looks.
His dumb pretty face glows under the club lights, his dark brown eyes sparkle as he smiles at what Finn is saying.
God, I hate that he always looks effortlessly attractive.
“Hey, you okay?” Lance’s voice pulls me back, and I realize I’ve been staring far too long.
“Yeah, just—” I start, but I can’t finish my thought because Hayes has caught my eye, our gaze locked as the smile on his face suddenly turns to an irritated glare.
He glares at me, his dark gaze cutting deep into my skin. I glare back, not backing down from our intense gaze as I bring my drink to my lips to take a sip.
“Dakota,” Lance says, clearing his throat.
I look away from Hayes to stare at Lance who’s been watching me.
“I wonder what happened between you two in middle school. The tension alone can cut through glass.” Lance says, grinning at me.
“And I thought I was the only one who noticed it.” Tripp mutters beside me.
“Come on. Let’s join the others,” Lance says, and before I can protest, he’s already dragging me toward Hayes and his entourage.
“Look who I found lurking around.” Lance shouts as we reach the couch.
They’d drag two long couches and one single couch together to form a circle at the corner of the large living room. In the middle, there’s a glass coffee table with different non alcoholic drinks on top.
Lance sits on the long couch opposite the one Hayes is sitting on. I glance around, planting my ass on the single couch while Tripp takes the seat next to Lance. Everyone’s here. Shay, Finn, Ezra, Peach, Brooklyn, Kris, and Ian and Pete.
Peach is on her phone, sitting on Ezra’s lap with Brooklyn sitting next to Ezra with his arms around her small shoulder. She seems uncomfortable, like the last thing she wants is to be here, with some other girl sitting on her boyfriend’s lap while she pretends to be enjoying herself.
“Hey,” I say to my teammate as they reply with silent ‘heys.’
“You just got here?” Finn asks. He’s sitting next to Shay whose one leg is on Hayes' thigh and her head resting on his shoulder as she stares at me, her smile flirtatious.
“Mm-mm.” I reply, not hiding the boredom in my tone.
Two weeks with the team, and I’m still not close with them. Not that I’m trying. I didn’t join to make friends—I joined to play hockey. Lance and Zach are the only guys I can talk to easily, and honestly, they’re the ones putting in the effort.
“Wow,” a voice purrs, pulling my attention away. “You are a fine one.”
I turn to find Peach staring at me, her smile openly flirtatious. It’s the first time she’s ever spoken to me.
Every time I see her, she’s glued to her phone—scrolling, typing, probably filming something. TikTok, Instagram, whatever the hell she’s famous for.
“So you’re Dakota?” she says, standing abruptly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Before I can respond, she strides toward me and—without warning—drops herself straight onto my lap.
What the fuck?
Peach leans back comfortably, draping an arm around my shoulder. Her manicured fingers trail along the short hair at my nape.
“I’m Peach, babe,” she murmurs loudly enough for everyone to hear, drawing a round of whistles and jeers. “But you can call me whatever you like.”
My body goes rigid.
I hate being touched without permission. Always have.
I shift uncomfortably, trying to dislodge her without making a scene. My eyes flick up—and I catch Hayes watching. For the first time tonight, his expression isn’t smug or bored.
It’s something else.
“Please get up,” I say, keeping my voice calm even as irritation coils tight in my chest.
Finn snorts. “Don’t act like you aren’t enjoying my sister’s ass on your junk.”
I shoot him a flat look.
Finn and I don’t talk much—mostly because he’s Hayes’s friend. Also because he’s an idiot. Loud, crude, constantly bragging about girls he claims he’s slept with. When women turn him down, he calls them sluts. When they don’t, he claims he’s had better.
A dumb jock in every sense of the word.
I bite down on my tongue to keep from snapping back. Aren’t big brothers supposed to be protective? Not encouraging random guys to grope their little sister?
How much dumber can one person be?
Peach finally stands, a flash of embarrassment crossing her face before she smooths it away with a practiced smile. She walks back and settles onto Ezra’s lap instead.
“Don’t take it personal, Peach,” Ezra says smoothly, his tone dripping with condescension. “It’s not your fault. You’re just not his type.”
His eyes lock onto mine, a taunting smile curling his lips.
I know exactly what he’s implying.
The shed.
The beating.
The lie.
A memory that never really leaves—no matter how hard I try to bury it.
Ezra thinks I’m gay, and he’s trying to out me.
Not that I’m ashamed of being bisexual—but listening to Ezra run his mouth about my business? That’s something I won’t tolerate.
“What? You don’t like brunettes?” Peach asks, running her fingers through her hair as she looks at me.
Ezra laughs. “Nah, Peach. He’s—”
“Seriously, shut the fuck up, Ezra.” Hayes snaps, cutting him off so sharply the room goes quiet.
Everyone freezes.
Including me.
Hayes glares at his childhood friend like he’s one second away from throttling him. “You don’t know when to shut up, do you?”
Ezra stares back, stunned. “What the hell, man?”
“I don’t need you speaking for me,” I snap, turning on Hayes. “I can handle myself.”
Hayes scoffs, finally looking at me. “Ungrateful little Dakota,” he sneers, his eyes dark.
“Oh yeah?” I fire back. “Maybe I wouldn’t be if I didn’t have to deal with your ego every five seconds.”
Hayes chuckles, slow and cruel, flashing those perfect white teeth. “It’s not my fault you’re fucking pathetic. Can’t help it if you’re just… you.” He looks at me like I disgust him.
Lance shifts uncomfortably. “Guys, come on. It’s a party. Let’s chill.”
“Yeah, Dakota,” Tripp adds, his voice tight. “Let it go.”
Hayes smirks. “Listen to your lap dog.”
Tripp stiffens. “What the fuck is your problem, man?”
“Yeah, Hayes,” Pete jumps in. “What’s going on?”
“We’re supposed to be bonding,” Lance says.
I let out a short laugh. “Right. Let’s ignore the fact that Hayes thinks he owns the place.”
The glare he shoots me could draw blood.
“Maybe if you weren’t so insecure,” Hayes says lazily, leaning back against the couch, “you wouldn’t try so hard to get attention.”
Heat floods my face—anger, humiliation, something else I refuse to name.
“Real mature, Hayes” I say flatly. “Real fucking mature.”
He tilts his head, eyes gleaming. “What? Got a taste of your own medicine and didn’t like it?”
I bite back the comeback that would shatter his ego completely.
Instead, I turn—slowly—toward Shay, who hasn’t taken her eyes off me since I arrived.
“Cute outfit,” I say casually. “You pick it out yourself?”
She giggles immediately.
Shay is beautiful—tall, polished, effortlessly confident. And absolutely not my type. This has nothing to do with her.
“You’re kidding,” she says. “Didn’t think anyone would notice.”
I smirk. “First thing I noticed, actually. Your boyfriend should’ve known better—unless he’s into watching someone else steal your attention.”
For a split second, my eyes flick to Hayes.
His jaw tightens.
The room erupts in jeers and laughter. Shay laughs harder, clearly enjoying herself.
Hayes shoves her thigh off his lap and stands abruptly.
His eyes lock on mine—pure fury.
Then he turns and storms out.