We make our way back to the den. Travis turns the stereoon and rock music filters through the speakers. “You guys play?” he asks, tilting his head to the pool table.
“A bit,” Ellie says coolly. She plays more than a bit and is actually very good. She’s always hustling random guys out of their money, pretending not to know how to hold the stick before she takes them for all they’ve got.
“Wanna play?”
She turns to me, seeking permission, and I give her a playful shove. “Go on.”
“Drinks are in the kitchen. Help yourself,” Travis tells me.
I head that way and find Liam pouring different things into a large bowl. “Would you like a drink?” he asks. I eye the red colored concoction in front of him. I have no idea what he’s put in there, and while they seem nice enough, I don’t know them at all. “There’s also beer and champagne.” He points to the table behind us, where several different bottles sit unopened.
“Champagne, please,” I say. One drink won’t hurt. Might loosen me up a little.
He reaches above his head and grabs a plastic cup from the cabinet, twisting the top off the bubbly and filling my cup.
“Thank you.” I take a small sip, refusing to wince at the warm, cheap flavor. “Hey, you guys were awesome tonight.”
He smiles wide, and this time two dimples appear, giving him this boyish look that would have any girl fawning over him. Lifting his cup to mine, he says, “Seems we have something to celebrate then.”
I tap my cup against his and match his long drink, already more at ease.
I sense someone watching me and glance over my shoulder. Penn is sitting on the couch with a dark-haired girl next to him.Where did she come from?She stares at him in awe, talking animatedly, but he’s not paying her any attention. He’s looking this way, scowling.
What is his problem? I glare back at him and I swear he chuckles before I turn away.
I’m not sure why I thought this would be like Brown parties. There’s no rap music you can dance to, and no one jumping on the table to dance or strip…not yet anyway. More people have filtered in now, playing pool, hanging out, or drinking. It’s mostly laid back.
I’ve been hiding in the kitchen by myself, working on the same cup of champagne, and watching everyone else. From here, I have a clear view of the living room where Penn is still on the couch, with the same girl beside him. Now and then, her hand strokes his arm or leg, and I roll my eyes at how desperate she’s being. He’s barely acknowledging her. He’s been kind of rude, playing on his phone a lot.
Liam is making out with some girl, and Ellie is still playing pool with Travis. I shift on my feet, wanting to sit down, but there are no chairs available. There’s only the couch Penn is sitting on. He hasn’t turned this way again, even though he must feel me staring. It’s not like I thought we’d be friends, but he could at least speak to me. He could say something rude or crass, but no. He is completely ignoring me.
I take another sip of champagne, letting the bubbles fizzle inside me before squaring my shoulders and marching in there. I take a seat as far away as I can from Penn and the brunette in the dress that may as well be a bathing suit, and pull out my phone. I’m flicking through crochet patterns when a potent smell hits my nose, causing me to cough.
A guy stands over me, wearing baggy jeans, a hoodie, and a gray beanie. A joint hangs between his lips. “Wanna hit?”
My nose scrunches from the smell.
I’m about to decline politely, but before I can, Penn cuts in. “Fuck off, Kyle.”
Kyle holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, man, just asking.”
“Ask someone else. She ain’t the one,” Penn says, and the way he says it, all judgy and condescending, makes my blood boil.
“Excuse me?” I snap, shooting a scowl in his direction.
“Oh shit.” The weed guy laughs before shuffling away. Probably sensing the tension brewing as Penn and I stare hard at each other.
The brunette beside him sits up a little straighter as if ready to pounce. I ignore her.
“I don’t need you to speak for me.” Does he think this is the first time I’ve been offered pot? Even at a prestigious school like Brown, there are drugs. Literally everyone smokes or does Adderall. Some do both.
He chuckles. “You sayin’ you wanna hit that, Barbie?”
The girl giggles, and my ears burn, a surge of embarrassment hitting me.
“I’m saying it’s none ofyourbusiness.”
He smirks, eyes staying locked on mine as he calls over his shoulder, “Yo, Kyle! Bring that back here, man.”
