“We never agreed to a summer of yes, we agreed to a hot girl summer.” I remind her. “You can’t go changing the rules mid-game.”
“Do you want to get laid or not?” She arches her brow, which she’d plucked earlier only to color in little hairs with a pencil. That right there should have been my first clue that she’s certifiable.
“Not. Especially not if it means risking a broken ankle.” I plop down on the bed and cross my arms over my chest. “I’ll just wear my chucks.”
“At least try them on.”
“No.” Her eyes go wide and her lips pucker into a pout. She looks like a sad, anime character. “That’s not gonna work.”
“Pretty, pretty please.” She bats her lashes.
“Fine,” I huff. “If I put the fucking shoes on will you leave me alone?”
She shakes her head. “I make no promises.”
I chuckle, slipping the damned things on. “It feels like a tiny foot prison.”
“Beauty is pain. Now stand up,” she instructs.
“You’re like a skinny Asian dictator.”
“Thank you.” She curtseys. “Now, see if you can walk in them.”
I let out an exaggerated sigh and heave myself off the bed. I make it about three steps before I drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Chloe doubles over, laughing so hard tears start to stream down her cheeks.
“Fuck off.” I kick the shoe off and slip my socks on. “I’m wearing the Chucks.”
“Fine,” she wheezes. “We’ll work up to it.”
We get to the party about twenty minutes later. I follow Chloe through the front door. There are people everywhere. It’s like The Grove on steroids. There’s no furniture in the living room, but there are bodies everywhere. Papa Roach’s Last Resort plays through the speakers and there’s a group moshing in the empty space.
“Holy shit!” I yell to Chloe.
“I know right.” She scans the crowd. “It’s like half of Newton is here. Even some kids from the west side”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I ask.
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
A kid bumps into me, nearly spilling his beer all over my new clothes.
“Watch it,” Chloe hisses in his direction. “Let’s find the guys.”
I nod and she grabs my hand, leading me through the throng of people. My heart beats in time to the music. My anxiety perks up and I grip her hand tighter. The kitchen is less intense, still people everywhere, but the music isn’t as loud and the energy isn’t nearly as chaotic.
“They're probably in the basement,” Chloe tosses over her shoulder. We head through a door just off the kitchen, down a narrow staircase into a finished basement. A large flat screen is mounted on the wall, an old couch sits in the center, and an air hockey table is off to the side. There’s a piece of plywood laying across it, serving as a makeshift beer pong table.
“Chloe!” Aaron yells from the head of the table. His hand is in the air as he aims a plastic ball at a plastic cup. “Come give me a good luck kiss.”
Chloe bites her lip and drags me towards them. She lets go of my hand when she reaches her boyfriend and plants a loud kiss on his cheek, leaving a glossy pink stain in the shape of her lips.
I giggle as two warm hands wrap around my waist. “Glad you came, New Girl,” Reese says, pulling me to his side.
“I do have a name you know,” I tell him with an arched brow. I don’t think it’s as effective when I do it as it is when Chloe does, but fuck it. I’m here, wearing make-up and a mini skirt. I might as well try and flirt.
“Ahhh, yes, I think I remember.” He puts his hand on his chin and pretends to think for a moment. “Roni, is it?”
I tap my index finger against his temple. “Not just a pretty face, are you?”
“Did you just call me pretty?” He laughs.
Good lord, I just called this boy pretty…to his face. I bite down on my bottom lip. “Well, you kinda are,” I tell him. I said it, so no use in backtracking now.
He brings his cup to his lips. “You’re kind of stubborn, aren’t you?”
I shrug. “My Gran used to say, Veronica, chile, you could start an argument in an empty house.”
He laughs again. “Veronica, eh?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Eww, no one calls me Veronica but my Momma and sometimes my Gran when she has a point to prove.”
“I like it. It suits you.”
I snort. “Now I know you’re full of shit.” I instantly slap my hand over my mouth. Great, Roni. First, you call him pretty, now he’s full of shit.
I’m never getting laid.
“Reese,” Aaron yells, “will you stop bothering the girl and come take your turn.”
Reese flips off his friend and hands me his cup with a smirk. “Don’t roofie it.”
“Lucky for you, I left the date rape drugs in my other skirt.”
He shakes his head. “What am I going to do with you, Veronica?”
I lift his cup to my lips and mumble, “You can start by calling me Roni.”
“Never.” He smirks then saunters over to the plywood.
There’s something fruity in his cup, and it goes down easy, too easy. The thought worries me a little, but I can’t deny how useful some liquid courage would be right now.
I stay back, watching as Aaron and Reese alternate throwing little balls into each other’s cups. The game wears on, and I find myself laughing with Chloe as Aaron tries to make a ridiculous behind the back shot. “I gotta pee.” I giggle.
“Want me to come with?” she asks, sipping her drink.
I shake my head. “No, I’ll be right back.”
Weaving through the crowd, I make my way back into the chaos upstairs and stand in line behind a couple of girls chatting animatedly about something they’re looking at on Instagram.
The line moves at a snail's pace and now I’m regretting taking those pre-game shots at Chloe’s. I inch forward as a pair of hands pulls me back, and I jump in shock, turning around to spot Devin’s goofy grin. Clutching my chest, I gasp. “Jesus, you almost scared the piss out of me...literally,” I add thumbing to the bathroom line. His eyes drop to my crotch and I slap him in the chest. “Eww. Don’t look, perv.”
“Come on,” he says, amused, “I know where another bathroom is.”
He leads me up the stairs and down a quiet hallway, into a dark room, locking the door behind us. “It’s over there,” he says pointing to a closed door.
“Thank God,” I say, practically sprinting to the toilet. After I pee, I wash up and go back into the room. Devin is sitting on the bed with a bottle of tequila perched on his lips. His coffee eyes meet mine and my heart slows to a dull thud, thud, thud.
He rises, his body moves through the room with ease, and then, like magic, he’s here, in front of me.
“Hi.” I grin up at him,
“Hi.” He grins back down at me.
“Is this where you’ve been all night?” I ask glancing around what I’m assuming is a guest room. There are no personal touches, just a bed and some generic artwork on the walls. It’s dark, save for the glow from the street lamp peeking through a slit in the curtains.