I followed him, and, lucky us, it was as we entered the living room that a guy and a girl making out on the couch got up, practically tripping over each other to find privacy. I watched them go as Archer plopped himself down and patted the cushion beside him. Sitting down, I glanced at the mass of bodies near the set-up speakers, watching how lost they seemed to be in each other.
“So how often do you have parties like this?” I asked, taking another sip of the drink.
Nope. Still tasted like shit. Still made me wince as it went down my throat.
Archer shrugged, sipping his own drink before holding the red cup on his knee. “You’d be surprised how boring it is in Midpark,” he said, grinning. “And when things get boring, you tend to find stuff to do.”
That’s how it was everywhere, not just the rich suburbs.
Archer and I talked for a while. I kept trying to like the drink, but it was a little over half gone and I decided I absolutely hated it. I hated it with my whole being. I was not a fan of drinking, or alcohol, or whatever specific type was in this cup. I didn’t even know what it was.
I blinked, shaking off the pit that began to form in my gut. Maybe drinking on an empty stomach wasn’t a good idea. I didn’t know—I’d never drank before. “What is this, anyway?” I asked after a while, turning to look at Archer.
It looked like he sat away from me, as if he didn’t want to touch me on the couch.
That was weird.
His blue eyes were averted, and it seemed like he stared off into space. “I don’t know,” he answered gruffly, sounding like he had before, when he’d been jerky and mean to me.
What the fuck was wrong with him? This hot and cold thing was getting really old. I thought, stupidly, we were past that.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” I asked, moving a hand to my head. In the back recesses of my mind, a headache had started to form. This drinking thing really was shit, wasn’t it? Who the hell wanted to do it for fun?
“It means I don’t know,” Archer answered, turning to look at me. No, not just look. Glare. He outright glared at me, no longer smiling, no longer friendly in the slightest. His handsome face read cold and jaded, and that pit that had started to form in my stomach only grew.
“Why are you acting so mean?”
“I don’t know, why do you ask so many stupid fucking questions?” he shot back.
Shaking my head, I got up. Not sure where I was going, since Archer was my ride and I had no idea where the hell he’d taken my jacket, but I had to go somewhere. I couldn’t sit and bear witness to his transformation into King Douche again.
Still holding onto the cup and what was left inside it, I took a step away from the couch. I had to stop for two things. The first reason being the room started to sway, not looking right. The second reason was that someone now stood in my way, blocking my escape.
A slender, pretty girl with blonde curls and cold dark eyes.
Brittany. Of course it was fucking Brittany. I couldn’t get a break tonight, could I? I was looking forward to this party, to this date, and then Archer had to go and turn into a dick, and then Brittany had to show up. I mean, what the flying fuck?
“Where do you think you’re going?” Brittany asked. She looked great in what she wore, I was loathed to admit. She held onto a cup herself, this one full.
“I’m…I’m leaving,” I said. It was hard to speak, for whatever reason. My words sounded slurred, faint, almost. It was ridiculously hard to stand in my boots. My whole body felt heavy, and I just wanted to sit back on that couch and go to sleep.
I was too lost in my muddled head to realize that everyone dancing had suddenly stopped; someone had even turned the music off.
What in the world was going on here, and why did I feel like I’d just been punched by a semi-truck?
“Sorry,” Brittany said, “you can’t leave yet. You and I have to talk.” She took a step forward, moving as smoothly as a human could in heels, like they were just an extension of her legs, like she was born with them. “You see, you’re new around here, and already you’ve been a bad, bad girl.”
I shook my head, unable to say anything other than, “What?”
Behind me, Archer got up, sauntering over to Brittany’s side. Brittany shot him a smug look before bringing her eyes back to me. “Oh, don’t act like you don’t know. You stepped on my territory. You fucked my boyfriend.”
The world continued to spin, but for a whole new reason now.
I glanced to Archer, barely able to make out his face through the haze. The pit in my gut grew to epic proportions, and I wanted—as stupid as it was—to cry. I watched in pure horror as Archer’s arm wrapped around Brittany’s waist and pulled her in, and he gave her a hard, fast, passionate kiss the whole room saw. Some, I noticed, were even recording it.
Was the whole purpose of tonight just cruelty?
My heart felt like it’d been ripped out. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I was in love with Archer, but I liked him. I liked him a lot. And, anyway, if he’d been dating Brittany this whole time, why didn’t he say something? I never would’ve slept with him if I’d have known he was taken—I wasn’t that kind of girl. I didn’t make those choices.
Once their kiss was over, Brittany turned to me. One of her hands was wrapped in his hair, the other still held onto the cup. It was that same cup she threw at me, drenching me in whatever sticky alcohol it was, dousing my face entirely. My hair, my neck, most of my chest. I immediately dripped with the stuff, and I stood there, blinking, in utter shock.
This was not happening, was it? This was some strange, bizarre nightmare, some stupid teen movie on Freeform. This was not my life. It couldn’t be. I got into a fight with my mom for this? For that dick?
No. No, no, no.
I wanted a redo of tonight. I wanted…
A lot of things. I wanted a lot of things, things which I apparently would never have.
I turned to walk out of the room, to leave, to storm away—although I wasn’t feeling half as well as I should’ve, and with my coat gone, I’d be too cold outside to go far, especially since I was so drenched—but two sneering faces stopped me. Brittany’s friends, the girls I’d seen hanging around her that first day when she’d asked if I was Ollie’s new toy.
One of them, the red-headed one, held onto a phone, laughing as she recorded my dumbstruck expression. The other, a dark-haired, dark-eyed girl with equally dark skin held onto a pillowcase. She whipped it over my head, dousing me with fluff, feathers that had been stuffed into the case. The small white bits stuck to every place on me that was wet, and I even got some in my mouth. Hell, the gesture practically knocked me over.
“Next time you think of fucking someone’s boyfriend,” Brittany spoke, her voice suddenly right behind me. I dared not turn around—mostly because I didn’t think I’d be able to. “Remember this, because if there is a next time, I won’t be so nice about it.”
Once I was sure I wouldn’t fall over, I turned my head, spotting Brittany looking smug. Archer stood beside her, avoiding eye contact because—apparently—he was a lying sack of shit.
It really was true. I couldn’t trust anyone in this town. I—
I really didn’t feel good. I just wanted to go home, and for a long while pretend like this night never happened.