It’s easy to understand why campus gossip theorizes that there’s probably some cult activities but because The Clones throw some of the best parties, no one dares to ask them.
I move through the crowd of the frat house, bodies hot and sticky against me. The smell of cheap beer and throw-up due to the aftermath of a keg chug gone wrong lingers in the air, almost suffocating but not enough for me to want to leave just yet.
I try to avoid the weird stain on the couch as I lean back against the cushions next to Bethany. I reach for the red solo cup she holds out to me and sigh against the plastic when it’s just ice-cold soda.
I’ve had about a beer or two but I don’t really want to get plastered and leave my car here for the night. I’ve done thatbefore and it led to me having to slap Ian Lawson in the face for drawing a huge dick on both sides of my car. I bring the cup up to my face, the condensation doing very little to cool me down.
Bethany and I both groan when Sarah drops her weight on us, sitting on my lap and folding her legs across Bethany’s thighs. “Lover boy is watching you again.” She grins.
Bethany gently pulls the denim of Sarah’s skirt down a little, to cover more of her bare thighs. Then she laughs. “He’s been watching her all night.”
I keep my eyes closed and head tilted back against the couch. “If I pretend he doesn’t exist, he’ll go away.”
Aside from the music that’s surprisingly playing at a decent level—I’m guessing The Clones don’t want the cops called again—it grows quiet between the three of us. Suspiciously quiet.
I open one eye to see Sarah and Bethany making kissy faces toward me. When they realize they’ve been caught, they burst into a fit of laughter.
“If living in delusion helps you get by then we fully support you, D.” Sarah can’t even say the words with a straight face. “I don’t know why you don’t just—”
“No,” I groan, trying to shove her off me but she doesn’t budge. If anything, she settles her weight even further on my lap. “Don’t you dare finish that fucking sentence.”
“We’re not saying to marry the guy but I’m sure the sex would be amazing,” Bethany argues. “Besides, it’s been a minute since you got laid.” She shrugs her shoulders like she’s stating scientific facts.
I take another sip of soda. “And how would you know that?”
Sarah perks up. “You’re bitchier the longer you go without sex.”
“The both of you can go to hell.”
“Oh come on,” Bethany whines, resting her head on my shoulder. “I bet fifty bucks if you walked over there, took him bythe hand, and led him up those stairs, he’d follow you around like a puppy dog.”
The thought of that is a little too intriguing. So much so that it has me pressing my thighs together and shifting as best as I can with Sarah’s weight on me.
I dare to steal a glance over at Lucas, who’s standing in a circle with a few other guys—some on the team, others I’ve never meant before. They’re talking and laughing, and Lucas’s arms are crossed over his chest. He’s standing with his friends but his attention keeps shifting over to me, like it hasn’t only been a few hours since I ran into him at the mall.
I felt his stare the moment I walked into the house about an hour ago.
He never stays in the same spot, never talking to the same people, but he’s always watching me. And not in the way I’ve been used to.
He’s watching my body, sure, but I also notice the way his eyes scan the crowd quicker whenever I move from my own spot. Almost like he’s simply just checking that I’m still here.
I try to avoid the urge to get closer. Try to remind myself that I’ll never be the one to walk up to a guy but as the night goes on, I’m wondering if every rule I’ve ever enforced upon myself is completely stupid.
“Didn’t think I’d still find you with your clothes on.”
My eyes slowly move away from Lucas toward the front of me. I’m not in a hurry to give the owner of that voice much attention.
“Hey, Grace.” I don’t bother to pretend to smile. Especially not when I see her friend, Addison, standing next to her. “Didn’t think I’d see you still sober and not vomiting into your ex’s lap as you beg him to take you back.”
The brunette’s eyes widen, her jaw clenching. I feel a sense of accomplishment when she huffs and crosses her arms over herchest. She looks at me with pure disgust and I’d like to remind her that the feeling is mutual.
I get why she hates me so much but I didn’t know she was dating Chase when I slept with him. He told me they weren’t all that serious, a fling if anything.
Could I have checked with Grace first to see how true that was?
Sure, but at the time I was just an eighteen year old who would do anything for male attention. I like to think that I’ve grown but no matter how many times I’ve apologized to Grace for the past two years, she’s always had it out for me. But she’s gonna be disappointed if she thinks I’m going to let her treat me like shit because of it.
“I wasn’t begging,” she argues. Her voice slurs slightly but she’s still sober enough for me not to feel bad if I have to resort to slapping her.