And then he’s storming across the grass, and I’m left holding in a scream.
That fucker! I think, gritting my teeth briefly before forcing out an exhale. Why am I doing this, letting him get to me? I let Parrish get to me, too, and look how well that’s going. I’ve got to stay strong here.
As I watch in disbelief, Chasm makes his way over to the drunkest girl he can find and starts hitting on her.
It sounds bad, but just wait. Just wait. I was mad, too.
My jaw drops with disgust, and I practically stumble over to where Lumen’s sitting, on a towel beside Danyella.
“Is he really doing that?” I whisper, realizing that I have yet to answer Lumen’s question. Am I into her? Based on my reactions as of late, I seem to be into everybody. Parrish. Chasm. Maxx. Ugh. I probably shouldn’t trust myself in the romance or sex department for a while; clearly my judgment is muddled.
“Doing what?” Lumen asks, her gaze following my outstretched hand. “Oh, Chas? He always hits on the drunkest girl at the party. Usually takes her home, too. I’d say nothing shady was going on because no one’s ever said anything, but he is one of the most popular guys at Whitehall …”
“I’ve talked to him about it in the past.” Danyella tosses her braids over her shoulder and gives me a look. “And Lumen’s right: I’ve asked some of the girls but none of them have a bad word to say about him. Half the school seems to be in love with the guy.”
I frown hard, my stomach weak with the idea that Chasm could be taking advantage of drunk girls. He always brags about how many girls he’s done it with—in my bed, in particular. I frown harder.
“Yeah, okay, you are not into me,” Lumen says with a long sigh, glancing over at me in an assessing sort of way. “Too bad. You’re cute, too.”
“How do you know I’m not?” I retort back, and she laughs, her blond hair wet and hanging in clumps around her shoulders. She gathers it together and wrings it out while I watch. I cannot even believe she dunked herself in icy Washington water. That’s cray.
“Because you’re into Chasm,” she tells me, and I scoff.
“I’m into Parrish,” I blurt, and then immediately regret it as both girls turn to look at me. Wait. Did I just say that aloud? Did I mean that?
“Oh,” Lumen says, and then she frowns, too. “Well, I’m sorry then.” She gives me a pitying look that I’ll likely remember later. “That sucks.”
“Why?” I ask as Chasm starts to lead the girl up the hill, toward a house I hadn’t really paid much attention to now. Ah. Figures. One of the students here must live on this property. It looks like a park, but it could be part of some fancy-pants yard.
“Because being into Parrish is a lot worse than being into Chasm.”
I glance back at Lumen but Danyella’s nodding like she agrees wholeheartedly.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell them both, and then I’m up and running in the direction that Chasm just went. This piece of work! I think, imagining him taking some drunk girl back to her room and … doing something. I won’t let myself delve into visions of what could be, intent just on stopping it. And yelling at him. And then being disappointed in myself for even considering kissing a guy like this.
There’s a loose cluster of trees that guard the house from the lake, morphing into the thickness of woods behind it. I slow my run briefly, blinking in surprise at the sight. This place looks oddly familiar to me, like I might’ve been here before.
Like I might’ve been chased through here before.
“I knew it,” I breathe, looking up at the canopy above my head. It’s about sunset now, and I was last here in full dark, but I can feel it somehow. This is where I woke up that night. I wasn’t sleepwalking, I think with a jolt of fear, moving along a stone path that leads toward what must be the back door of the house.
Chasm was involved that night. Parrish, too, probably. How could I have missed that?
My hand goes to my neck as I step up onto the back porch and notice that the door is already cracked. There’s no point in knocking, right, if what I’m here to do is teach Chasm about proper consent with a kick to the balls?
Slowly, I push the door open, running over that night in my mind. The way the person chasing me smelled, the blood that splattered when I hit the second attacker, the prick of the needle in my neck. Isn’t that a fucked-up prank for high schoolers? Even bullies like Parrish and Chasm?
But then I think about the fact that Chasm just picked up a drunk girl from the side of the lake and brought her … here. Wherever here is.
I step into the house and pause, noticing a row of photos along the wall beside me. There’s a small boy with jet-black hair posed with a smile in front of an old woman with silver hair. She’s sitting on a wood porch with one leg propped up, her elbow thrown across her knee. In front of the pair of them is a basket filled with vegetables.
With a squint, I lean in and take note of the boy’s face, of the familiar shape of his mouth and eyes, the amber color of his irises. Oh. Oh. This is Chasm’s house?
I pause, feeling suddenly more awkward than if it were the drunk girl’s house, or some other random person that’s still hanging out down by the lake. My left hand drops to my side as I notice the shoes kicked off near the back staircase. I kick my own off—I’ll try to respect Chasm’s dad, even if Chas is an idiot—and make my way up the stairs.
That’s when I hear his voice, low and cool and calm. The sound of it gives me chills, but not in the way I was expecting. I’m pleased to hear it. And that bothers me. I move forward across the hardwood floors, ready to throw open the first door I see, when I hear something that surprises me.
“You can sleep here as long as you need and go home when you feel better,” Chasm is saying, and I find myself leaning forward so I can peak through the crack in the door. The drunk girl is sitting on the edge of a bed, a blanket wrapped around her, and a glass of water and some pills on the nightstand.
“Thank you,” she breathes, slurring her words slightly.
Chasm sighs and puts his hands in his pockets.
“You should always watch how much you drink at parties,” he says, pushing the water glass closer to her. “Even at small hangouts like this. Boys can be monsters sometimes. Trust me: I am one and I know how they are.”
“You’re the best, Kwang-seon,” she hiccups, and I frown again. That asshole! He lets other people—other girls, for that matter—call him by his real name? What a hypocrite. A pang of hurt rings in my belly, but I ignore it, watching as he urges the girl to drink the water and take what I’m assuming are painkillers. As soon as he’s sure that she’s had enough to drink, he plugs in her phone to charge, and hands her a remote to the wall-mounted TV.
When the girl reaches out a hand to touch his arm, Chasm very gently pushes her away.
“You don’t think I’m pretty?” she pouts, like she’s on the verge of a drunken meltdown.
“You’re gorgeous, babe, but I’m not a predator; you’re plastered.” He goes to stand up and she grabs onto the bottom of his shirt, clinging to him with tears sliding down her face. How Chasm handles this situation will determine whether I kill him or not.