So I rip away the sheets and stomp downstairs, and grab the first bottle of nail polish I see.
Melissa gives me a diabolical smile when I sit down cross-legged beside her on the carpet, but I show her my palm.
“Don’t wanna talk about it,” I mutter.
“…haters gonna hate, hate, hate…” she sings under her breath.
Somehow, despite myself, I smile.
Chapter 29
Haven
I should feel trapped here. Turns out I like the way this cage feels.
The press of bodies around me has desensitized my body. The music has drowned out my thoughts. And the booze is numbing all the awful memories and thoughts floating around in my head.
Should have started partying a long time ago. I totally get the appeal now.
I ruined my glittery pink nail polish. Apparently, it takes three to five business days to dry. But the lighting is dim, and there’s enough booze flowing that I doubt anyone’s going to notice.
Totally wish I’d had another shower though. I put on some deodorant before we walked over here, but I swear I canstillsmell Bastian’s body wash.
I can also still smellhim, but it’s got to be someone in the crowd who wears the same cologne or something. Not that any of the guys in this place could pull off that scent—the one that makes me think of leather-bound books and warm, spicy tea.
Melissa loaned me a shimmery pink cocktail dress for the party. It’s tight around the hips, and the shortest thing I’ve ever worn in public, but I feel like a goddess as I sway my hips on the dance floor.
Could be the tequila.
Melissa keeps dragging me off to Gamma Gamma Gamma’s kitchen for another shot, and I’m so happy to finally have my mind back to myself that I keep following her.
The alcohol’s playing tricks with my mind, though. I keep catching people staring at me. At first I thought I was dancing weird, but they’re not looking at my body, they’re looking atme.
Fuck ‘em.
Players gonna play.
Hater’s gonna hate.
I keep seeing Professor Rooke, too, but always out of the corner of my eye.
I’m pretty sure I’m not imagining the cute guy who keeps checking me out from the fringes of the makeshift dance floor in the sorority’s living room.
When he’s not checking his phone, of course, just like every other kid in this place. I left mine at home. Why bother bringing it when I’m too scared to turn it back on?
My suspicion about the cute guy is confirmed when Melissa taps my shoulder and leans in to speak to me.
“You into him?”
I shrug. Not being coy, but because I genuinely don’t even know what’s going on in my head right now.
She tips back her head to laugh, and then grabs my wrist, tugging me through the throng of bodies. Toward the kitchen, I’m assuming. Until she detours.
Right to him.
My palms begin to sweat, and all I can think about is if I look normal, or like a total dweeb.
He’s all in black, no designer labels in sight. Dark hair a little messy. Not deliberately, but like he hasn’t bothered to do more than run his fingers through it since he woke up. It’s refreshing seeing someone who isn’t obsessed with their appearance. Even if he does spend a lot of time on his phone.
