Lakeview sure knows how to throw a party.
I drove Asher’s BMW here—he told me it was his dad’s gift to him, and he doesn’t want it. “But, fuck it. Free car.”
He’d wanted to call an Uber like last week, but I prefer to be in control of when I leave. And volunteering to be the designated driver isn’t exactly a sacrifice. I haven’t touched alcohol or anything since I’ve been home, and I don’t want to go back to that.
In the New York party scene, I was always in a drug haze and never myself. I did stupid and reckless things. I was out of control. But now that I’m finally back home with Dad, I don’t want to mess things up. It’s like I have a second chance at life, and I refuse to waste it.
I still love to party and dance, but with drinking off the table, I make better choices. I don’t find myself without my underwear in a strange bed or jumping into a pool with all my clothes on.
I take a deep breath and repress those thoughts.
“Miss Mila Hart. You here to spy?” Walker Murphy asks me grinning widely. He leans lazily against the kitchen counter.
I lean over and cup my chin in my hands as I lean against the other side of the counter.
“Spy? Never. I’m partying with the winners tonight.”
“Hell yeah, girl,” he cheers loudly, his red Solo cup full of beer raised in the air, and a bunch of guys whoop in response.
When I met him last week, he had no idea who I was. Asher thought it would be funny to see which guys on the team tried to pick me up, and Walker was the first one to try his luck. He’d flirted hard. I’d enjoyed the attention, I’m not gonna lie. But as soon as Asher mentioned my dad, I became untouchable, and any guy who’d seemed interested kept their distance. Except for the cocky quarterback.
Walker said he was still game if I was, and I’d laughed. “I’ll ask my dad if it’s okay. I’m sure he won’t mind the star quarterback fucking his only daughter.”
He’d laughed and raised his hands in defeat. “Well played, Hart. Well played.”
We seem to have fallen into a friendship as easily as I did with Asher. They have a lot of similarities. They work well together on the field and are great friends off it.
I prefer to dance and have a good time. I wasn’t looking to hook up last week, and I’m not now. Asher seems to be enjoying himself with a blonde girl in the corner; I think she’s one of the cheerleaders I saw talking to him in the parking lot earlier. He did tell me to leave him behind if I can’t find him when I’m ready to go…he might be busy. I have no intentions of cockblocking him. Or breaking up the celebration with Little Miss Thang over there.
Asher catches my eye, I nod and give him a thumbs up. He raises his cup to me in a toast. I really love having Asher as a friend. Once we relegated our relationship to the friend zone, it’s been so easy to be around him. Yeah, every so often there’s a bit of sexual tension. But it’s more the fact that we can’t than we actually want to. The forbidden fruit. Our parents aren’t engaged or married, so it’s not wrong if we take a bite from the apple. But I don’t want that to happen, and I can tell he doesn’t either. So, the mutual agreement works well.
As the night wears on, party people disperse. Some guy keeps trying to dance with me, and I tell him, repeatedly, to leave me alone. He isn’t on the football team, but he’s a senior at Lakeview. So, I guess the whole “my dad is the assistant coach” doesn’t scare him away.
Eventually, he gets the hint, and I’m left to my solitude. I take a mouthful of soda from my red cup and look out at the huge yard from the deck. I’m not sure whose house this is—one of the players, most likely—but, man, the twinkle lights hanging in the trees and shrubs really give off a romantic vibe. Everyone out there, kissing and dancing, laughing, and just being free and young, makes me smile.
My stomach hurts a little, but I push the ache aside and drink more from my cup. Someone throws a girl into the pool and there are cheers all around. I laugh and feel lightheaded. What the hell? I ate earlier, but maybe I need some food.
I look at the couple kissing beside me, and they start to blur. I rub my eyes, and they aren’t in focus anymore. My stomach lurches. Oh shit, I think I’m gonna be sick. I stumble back inside. Holding the wall, I peer down a hallway that’s moving. Why is it so wonky? I’m just looking for the bathroom.
I feel a hand behind me, leading me.
I try to see who it is, but they hold me close.
I try to push away, but I can’t. They’re too strong.
“Are you okay? I’ll help you,” says a male voice that’s familiar. Is it the dancing guy?
“No,” I slur, trying to move away again.
“Jessica, where have you been? Get over here.”
My arm is yanked, and I don’t know who Jessica is… Is she Jessica? She leads me somewhere. The bathroom. I stare at the bright white tiles and throw up.
I feel something cold on my face… I’m on the floor…and the tiles are cool against my warm skin. How did I get here?
“Hey, do you have someone I can call? You’re either drunk, or you’ve been drugged. We need to get you home.”
“Drunk?” I croak out.
I didn’t have anything but soda. I feel heavy and strange, and my body is so warm. I open my eyes to my fingers, and I can’t get them to move right. They feel like they aren’t even on my body. I need to get my phone… Where is it? In my pocket? My jeans…I have jeans on. I feel the girl slip my phone out.
“Who do you want me to call to come get you?” I hear her talking to someone outside the bathroom. The voices are low, and the people speaking are confused about who I am.
Who am I?
“Who do we call?” another voice asks. She pushes my hair behind my ear. I close my eyes and picture him. The person I need, the only one who can help me.
“Jace.”
Then it all goes black.
