When we finally reach David’s house, loud music and the raucous laughter from a bunch of drunk college kids fill the air. I text Keaton to let him know we've arrived at the party, setting the stage for the night ahead.
By the time we reach the porch, Keaton still hasn’t replied. The uneasy churn in my stomach sharpens, gnawing harder. Something’s off, but I try to ignore it.
There's a reason for warning signs.
A yellow stoplight warns you to slow. Flammable symbols warn of fire danger, and the skull-and-crossbones symbol warns of deadly chemicals. Yellow and red flags warn swimmers, just as a partner hiding their phone is a red flag for trouble.
Warnings surround you daily, urging vigilance to prevent harm.
All day, they’ve been flashing inside me, louder and louder. Yet, I kept ignoring them, pretending everything was fine.
It's a mistake I'll never make again.
Can Anyone Join This Party?
Charlie | The Past
Ishouldhavecaughtthe warning signs flashing in the cruel smirks of the queen bees as I searched for Keaton. Their delighted replies that he was off with Rianna were another alarm I ignored.
But why would I?
For four years, they’ve made being vicious their brand of cool. I figured this was just another episode in their endless series.
"Come on, Char. Let's go find him," Amelia yells, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from them.
Amelia knows me well enough to sense when my anger is about to boil over. Even the nicest people snap eventually, and these girls are pushing me to the edge.
We push through a sea of writhing bodies and stumbling drunks, leaving the tension of the hallway behind. The floor pulses with the music’s bass, luring me to lose control, but Amelia tugs me along before I can surrender. Black lights have transformed the house into a surreal neon wonderland.
Passing the game room, the sweet, skunky haze of weed curls into my nose—a forbidden treat I don’t get to sample tonight.
"Hey." I yank my hand, pulling us to a stop. "You said I'm supposed to be letting loose and having fun. Why do you keep pulling me away from all the good shit?"
"So we can find your boy."
I roll my eyes. "You heard them. He’s with Rianna. As usual. He knows I’m here—I texted him the second we arrived. Keaton will show up when his clingy friend finally lets go."
Everything I say tastes bitter. Even I can’t ignore it now.
Rianna became a problem the moment she and Keaton got close last year. At first, I didn’t care. That changed two months in, when I saw the way she looked at him. I called Keaton out, but he just laughed it off, insisting I was imagining things. That stung, and I made sure he knew it. He apologized, and I believed he meant it, so I let it go. But soon after, she started making those sharp little comments, always disguised as jokes. She’d call me insecure, say I was jealous because I couldn’t believe a guy and girl could just be friends. The worst was when she’d joke about loving him, which told me Keaton had confessed what I’d said. Things got tense between us for weeks. I knew it hurt him, too, but he was the one who put us here. Then one morning, he pulled me close in bed, apologized, and promised to make it right.
To give him credit, he did. Or at least he tried.
He wouldn't hang out with Rianna as much, and their conversations became less frequent. We were good again. We were the Charlie and Keaton that we used to be, and our relationship only got stronger.
Months later, she turned up at our place in tears, apologizing and swearing she never meant to make me feel replaced. She claimed she had no feelings for him. A lie I saw right through, but I let her talk. Rianna insisted Keaton loved me too muchfor anyone to come between us, that I was all he talked about. Against my instincts, after talking with Keaton, I let them hang out again. He’s never given me a real reason to doubt him, never shown any signs he wants more than friendship with her. Unless he’s a master at hiding it. She saves her attitude for when he’s not around, and I refuse to give her the satisfaction of telling him. That’s what she wants. He hasn’t taken her side since, and he always puts me first. I wish he’d pick a different best friend, but it’s not my place to control him.
"Fuck that bitch." Amelia's lips pull back from her teeth into a snarl. "Let's go take him away from her because we both know once he sees you, he's going to forget all about her for the rest of the night."
I sigh and stride ahead, fully aware Amelia won’t rest until she gets what she wants.
After searching everywhere inside the house, we spill out into the backyard. The shift from the packed rooms to the open air is jarring. The pool is packed. Some people naked, some half-dressed, but most still in clothes. The air reeks of spilt booze and abandoned bottles.
"Yo, Char. Looking good, babe. You two go grab some swimsuits from the pool house and join us."
Something in David’s eyes makes my skin crawl, but Amelia’s excited squeal tells me resistance is pointless. I force a tight smile and nod.
David Baladucci is campus royalty, rich enough to burn cash for fun and never run out. People orbit him, hungry for a taste of his world, and he loves every second. Teachers pass him to keep their jobs, and the dean lets him do whatever he wants. He’s cocky, insufferable, and convinced he can have any girl he wants with a flash of that wicked grin. Annoyingly, he’s usually right. Only a few girls have dodged him—me and Amelia included, though it doesn’t stop him from trying. My long relationshipwith Keaton means nothing to him. He’s not evil, just a world-class asshole, and we’re always trading jabs.
