I grunt in frustration, then face my best friend. “Look, I know you’re protecting her, and you don’t think I’m good for her or whatever, but it’s not going to stop me from trying.”
Ivan looks me in the eye. I hold his gaze, inwardly flinching. My best friend is a scary son of a bitch when he puts his mind to it.
“Hurt her, and MJ will be all over you like a bad rash. Got it?”
“Jeez. Yeah.” I slap a hand on his shoulder. “Now if we’re done here . . .” I head out with the drink in my hand.
I’ve only had one drink, and my head is starting to spin. After asking where the bathroom is and excusing myself, I stand and head inside the house.
Navigating the gyrating crowds is a challenge, especially on shaky knees and when I’m seeing double. Someone grabs my ass, and I whirl around to glare at the person. I might be tipsy, but my senses are on high alert. For just a moment, Mom’s words to always stay aware and take care of myself flash inside my head. I wonder what would happen if someone decided to confront me. Would I be able to fight them off?
Panic seizes my chest as I stumble forward.
Wandering upstairs, I finally locate the bathroom. Thank God it’s not occupied.
I shuffle inside and lock the door, then turn around and grip the porcelain sink. Closing my eyes, I take in deep breaths. Breathe in. Out. In. Out.
After repeating this process until my heart slows, I open my eyes and splash cold water on my face. After that, I rinse out my mouth and spit the water. I repeat the process twice, then turn off the tap, flip the toilet seat down, and perch on top of it.
Even though college means having new experiences, I should still be smart while doing it.
I don’t know how long I’ve been in here when an impatient, heavy knock startles me out of my thoughts. I open my purse and dig out my lipstick and mascara and reapply my make-up. I toss them back in when I’m done. Feeling more confident about my appearance, I readjust the strap of my purse on my shoulder before stepping out of the room, apologizing to the lanky dude scowling outside the door before going back downstairs. I feel much better after washing my face, but my vision is still a bit unsteady. I turn the corner and almost stumble into Gage and a black-haired boy kissing passionately. His large hand cups the back of his partner’s head, pinning him in place.
There’s just something incredibly hot about two men kissing. I’m not sure how long I stand there watching these boys kiss when someone shoves into my back, jolting me out of my stupor. My cheeks heat with embarrassment. Jesus, Grace. You’re such a perv.
Heading to the kitchen, I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator, then pause to stare at the interior contents.
What the hell do these guys eat? The fridge has more Gatorade and water in it than food. I have no idea what soccer players should or should not eat to keep their bodies in shape, but whatever it is I’m certain a diet of solely Gatorade is far from healthy.
Slamming the door shut, I shuffle my way to the living room and out the front door, wanting to grab some fresh air and silence. I find a quiet little spot on the swing in the front yard, sit down, and uncap the bottle, then drink half the contents.
“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.” Levi’s voice interrupts my solitude, and my stomach tightens with anticipation.
“Just needed some air,” I say, capping the bottle and turning to face him. “And a little space.”
His fingers wrap around the rope on the swing and give it a gentle push. I lift my feet off the ground, allowing my body to sway.
“Sorry to interrupt.”
“It’s okay, I guess. Sometimes silence can be too daunting, so yeah . . .”
“So you’re happy I’m here?”
“Sheesh. Stop fishing.”
He laughs. “You having a good time?”
“Yeah,” I say, thinking of a follow-up to that one word. I take a sip of my water and sigh when words fail me. “I’m not good at small talk.”
“It’s all right. I can talk enough for both of us.” He flashes me a big grin.
“I bet you can.” I laugh and shake my head, averting my gaze to the ground.
Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he moves to prop his shoulder against the tree trunk and then fishes out something from the back pocket of his jeans. A joint, I think.
He pulls a lighter from the other pocket and lights it up, taking a deep drag before offering it to me. I’ve never smoked pot, but I can’t say I’m not a little curious about how it would feel.
“Oh, come on, Miller. Just a little.” His eyes twinkle in challenge.
I laugh. Reaching forward, I take it and put it between my lips. I inhale deep.
My eyes water, and I start coughing, bending down on the swing and breathing in to feed my lungs with air, then between inhaling and exhaling, I say, “I’m going to die because I decided to take on a bad habit.”
Levi takes the joint from my fingers and snuffs it out before thumping my back, while murmuring, “Don’t fucking die on me. I don’t want you to haunt me because I killed you.”
Glaring at him, I slowly sit up on the swing and realize how close we are. I hop down gingerly and take a subtle step away from him, pretending to stretch my body.
He opens his mouth to say something, but someone yells his name. He sighs, then tells me he’ll be back in a few minutes as he jogs toward the back of the house.
I sit back on the swing, push myself with a toe, and just enjoy the gentle sway. It reminds me of when Mom used to take me to the playground when I was a kid, and she’d hum under her breath and smile at me whenever our eyes met.
The sound of a twig snapping rips me out of my memories. I jump down from the swing, my fists automatically clenching and my feet planted firmly on the ground.
“Hey, Grace,” a sugary-sweet voice says, right before a girl with blonde hair appears in my line of vision.
I squint, trying to make out her features with the help of the light from the porch. She looks oddly familiar. Then it clicks. It’s the girl from Josie’s Waffle House. Levi’s girlfriend.
“Hey.” I don’t know what to make of this meeting, so I keep my guard up.
She eyes me, but I not being able to read her expression makes me nervous. “I’m Jessica. Jessica Knowles.”
Her gaze sharpens as she searches my face, but for what, I don’t know. I shift, uncomfortable under her scrutiny.
Oh yeah, now I remember. At the concert last summer, I’d been so nervous at the thought of being around big crowds and so focused on not making a fool of myself that when introductions were made, my thoughts were preoccupied. Plus, she hadn’t said much to me or anyone else during the concert.
“Nice to meet you again.” I smile politely.
Her lips curl into something that resembles revulsion. “You really don’t know who I am?”
I shake my head, taking a step back when she steps forward. I don’t know if it’s from the expression on her face when I saw her at Josie’s or the look she’s aiming at me right now, but something about her causes the hair on the nape of my neck to curl.
She laughs again, the sound making me think of nails on glass. “How’s your mother doing?”
She knows my mother?