If I would’ve been feeling better, I would’ve put up more of a fight. I would’ve said something, done something. Raised hell like I knew I could. But tonight, tonight I wanted to tuck my tail between my legs and leave, go home and lick my wounds. Shower. Maybe throw up. Who knew? I wouldn’t rule anything out.
I lurched forward, barely able to keep myself up as I pushed past Brittany’s two friends, who each called me their choice of words. Slut and bitch being the two. A whole chorus of laughter bounced into my ears, and I could not get out of that house fast enough.
No one in Midpark was my friend. No one cared about me. I would never fit in here; it was stupid for me to even want to try.
My head throbbed by the time I stumbled to the front door, slipping in my boots. It was like the floor was slippery…or my legs weren’t working quite right. My whole body felt off, somehow. I’d thought initially it was because I’d drank on an empty stomach, but what if this was something else? What if this was worse?
What if…what if I’d been drugged?
Fuck. I shouldn’t have taken anything. That was one of the cardinal rules of going to a party if you were a girl, even I knew that. But no, I had to be so smitten with Archer that all logical thought processes flew out of the window of my brain when I saw those cute dimples and those dreamy blue eyes.
Shit. I had to get out of this house. I had to call someone. I went for the doorknob, well aware that Brittany and her crew had followed me into the hall. It took every ounce of strength in my body to pull open that door and walk out into the cold air of night. I stumbled down the front steps, practically tripping over my own feet as I tried to get to my phone in my dress’s pocket.
My pockets were still dry, so there was that, at least. A tiny bright side in this otherwise shitty, horrible night.
I really didn’t want to call Mom. She’d only tell me she told me so. If it were up to her, I’d never leave the house except for school.
My whole body swayed as my boots hit the ground, and I began to lose my balance. My butterfingers dropped my phone and I breathed hard as I stared at it, knowing I had to bend down and pick it up.
The problem was, I didn’t know if I’d be able to stand back up once I did.
It didn’t matter, though. None of this mattered. If I fell down, if I didn’t get back up, the only one who’d care in the end was my mom. It was obvious Archer didn’t like me. This whole time he’d been playing me, and I went along with it like the sap I was.
God, I hated feeling so weak, so sick.
I fell to my knees, but my hand didn’t reach for my phone right away. I stayed there, shivering in the cold, feathers stuck to my body, feeling my shoulders slump. Laughter emanated from the house; if I had to guess, Brittany and her friends had followed me, followed me to watch, to laugh…maybe even to drag me back into the house once I passed out.
And then who knew what would happen. Who knew what these rich kids would do to my unconscious body.
Damn it. I was screwed.
Chapter Twenty-Two – Jacob
The last thing I wanted to do on a Friday night was follow Jazmine Smith, but alas, as I prepared to spend my evening parked on the Fitzpatrick’s street, I saw someone pull up and park in front of the gate. I had gotten a burger from a local drive-through, about to bite into it, but when I saw that car, I stopped, put the bag aside, and waited.
I couldn’t see who was in the car, but I saw them talking to the guard at the gate. The guard didn’t let him in, though after a few moments, the gate did open, and Jaz walked out, wearing tall boots with a leather jacket.
Was that a dress?
I didn’t wonder it because the dress fit her well—I wondered it because it meant she and whoever was in the car were going somewhere. Somewhere that merited that outfit. She almost looked like she belonged here, in Midpark. A pretty girl born to money, spending the money wherever and however she could.
She got in the car, and they drove off.
It wasn’t my first time tailing someone. I knew how far I had to be for them to not notice me, how to tail them without drawing their attention. I followed them for probably about twenty minutes before I saw them pull into a long driveway. I slowed on the road, not wanting to actually go into the driveway with them.
Keeping my attention split between the driveway and the road, I pulled off to the side and reached for my phone. A quick map of the area told me the house sat pretty far back from the road, so it might be safe for me to get a quick peek up there.
The smell of my burger permeated the car, and I let out a groan, knowing I should stay here and eat it. But instead I got out, closing my car door quietly. I crossed the road and headed up the driveway, keeping off of it, hugging the trees sitting near it. The house was in the middle of woods, it looked like. A rich man’s cabin that wasn’t quite a cabin.
I kept my jacket closed, turning my collar up. This winter had been an abnormally cold one for Midpark so far. We got a bit of snow every now and then, but overall, usually winters weren’t too bad. This year just seemed like the year of eternal cold.
After five minutes of walking, the house came into sight. It was an impressive place, newly-built. Tons of cars sat off to the side, and I spotted the car Jaz had gotten into. Lights were on in the house, and I wondered if this was some party. I really should steer clear, but my gut told me to stay.
Once I was close enough to see the address on the stone wall, I typed it into my phone and saw what popped up. The Pots family owned this, and I bet they were out of town. They had one daughter, a Brittany Pots, who was also a senior at Midpark High, just like Jaz was. Maybe they were friends.
Or maybe not.
It didn’t seem like anyone else was coming up the driveway, so I hazarded a walk to the house, even a few peeks into the windows. The kids inside were drinking, from what I could see. So this was a high school party, Midpark style. I should just leave Jaz here and go home for the night. Whoever had hired me surely didn’t want to hear about her partying habits.
Although, maybe Mr. Anonymous did. It seemed Mr. Anonymous wanted to know literally everything there was to know about her, which I found odd. He wanted me to stay close to her, to watch her, to get to know her.
That was unusual, wasn’t it?
Whatever. It wasn’t my place to judge. God fucking knew I’d been judged enough in my past; I didn’t need to add more judgment to the world. It already had enough.
Eventually I’d had enough creeping. I stuck my hands in my pockets and started walking back. What else was there to do? It wasn’t like I could barge into that party and have a good time with those kids. Fuck no. I’d learned my lesson when it came to Midpark High students years ago.
Fuck. I still wasn’t over what happened. I still couldn’t forgive myself for letting Celeste go.
I was midway past the group of cars when I heard the front door to the house open. Instinct took over, and I darted to the nearest car, crouching behind it so whoever it was couldn’t see. If they happened to walk to this particular car, by the time they reached it, I’d be gone, having snuck away while they walked.
I didn’t hear footsteps, though. Not many. A few, but then they stopped. Then it sounded like something fell…and a faint sound of voices in the background, coming from the house.