I whisper to the girls my plan and they snicker and agree.
“Spare me, please,” Ella calls out as I pick up the mic again. I just ignore her and find the song.
“I know you all like the pop and rap stuff, but I’m from the Midwest and we tend to listen to country from time to time. So, here we go. A little Aaron Tippin. This one’s for you,Lenny.”
Kiss This (link to lyrics) begins and when it gets to the chorus, Dree and La join me, each spanking a butt cheek when we sing the words “Kiss This.” We put on quite a show that ends with applause and laughs.
When the song is complete and I’m out of the spotlight, I’m throwing up next to one of the bushes in Brent’s backyard. Not from the liquor because I’m merely tipsy, but from what I just did.
Elan comes over and rubs my back, handing me a water bottle. “You okay?”
I look at him as I rinse my mouth and spit, then I shake my head.
“No. I’m really not. I don’t know why I’m so hateful. This isn’t me. I swear to you, I’m a quiet person who prefers to read than to go to parties. I just… he gets to me,” I admit.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Elan asks.
“Not really. I’ll just say that the person I met last Friday is the opposite of the Leo I met this week,” I admit.
He nods. “I bet he’s thinking the same about you.”
I sigh and hang my head. “Probably.”
“C’mere, Foxy J.” Elan pulls me into a hug and it feels nice to have someone hold me who has seen me at my worst—and this has been my absolute worst.
“My behavior is deplorable. I can’t seem to contain it whenever he’s around. I don’t understand my lack of control,” I whisper.
He hands me a stick of gum from his pocket, likely so he doesn’t have to smell my puke breath anymore. “He hurt you in some way, so you’re reacting.”
“I’ve been hurt before—a whole lot worse than this, and I’ve never acted like a bitchy little brat.”
“Sounds to me like you and Becks need to have a chat,” Elan tells me.
I cringe. “I don’t foresee that happening anytime soon. I mean, look what I just did. People are still staring.”
“They’re staring because you made a beeline for the bushes to puke right after you told Becks to kiss your ass via song. No one’s ever acted that way toward him. While I think he’s a total prick, others think he’s a hero.”
“Yeah, I know. Mr. Popular. Mr. QB.”
“I think you’re wrong about him not wanting to talk to you,” he tells me.
“Why’s that?”
“Because he’s headed this way.”
I cringe and hide my face in Elan’s shirt. He chuckles.
“No hiding, Foxy J.”
I nod at Elan. “I’m doing this under duress.”
He chuckles. “Noted.”
Leo reaches us and from the expression on his face, I can see he’s livid—as he has a right to be. “Can I speak with you in private?”
I sulk and nod. He grasps my upper arm gently and I feel a zing shoot through my body. I remember those hands, those fingers. The feelings he drew out of me. Gah.
We pass through the kitchen and into what I think might be an office or library, maybe both. He closes the door and turns to me.
“What am I going to do with you?” he asks, and I just stare. I could give him some suggestions, but they’d be very inappropriate and wouldn’t solve anything.
I shrug.
“Jillie, we need to talk about… everything.”
I nod. “We do. You go first.”
