“Uh, okay ... See ya.” Shaking his head, he walks off.
My lungs release, and I inhale. Well, that went swell. Cringing, I turn away from the crowd in embarrassment.
Get it together, Evangeline.
Stop being such a freak!
That’s when I see him. Easton Rutherford. He’s sitting on the couch, leaning back, legs spread comfortably. A group of guys surround him, a few of them talking over each other animatedly. A small glow ignites in my chest, and I can’t look away.
It’s been two months since his parents were granted permission to foster me. I’ve noticed him watching me, but like that boy who spilled his drink on my shirt, I always choke up and get weird when he comes close.
I hate it.
But this is my first party, a fresh start. I’ve thought a lot about how I’m going to talk to him tonight. I even practiced at home in front of the mirror. I can be normal. I know I can. I hope so anyway.
Inhaling a deep breath, I pull my shoulders back. It’s now or never.
Just as I take a step in his direction, a girl I’ve seen at school, Whitney, cuts in front of me and walks up to the group of guys. I don’t know what she says, but it makes them laugh. I’ve done a lot of things with guys ... but I’ve never made them laugh. I take a small step back.
Carter catches my gaze again. On his way to the kitchen, he tips his red Solo cup toward me. I force a smile. He winks before disappearing behind the kitchen wall, and I remind myself that I can do this. It helps. At least until a second later, when a guy I don’t recognize suddenly blocks my path.
“Hey, cutie.” He’s older, maybe sixteen or seventeen. “You look a little tense. Want a drink?”
I shake my head. Rub my arm. “I’m okay.”
He slides his tongue across his teeth, looking me up and down, and I know that look. I know it well.
“You sure?”
“Yup.” I start to walk away, but he matches my pace beside me.
“You look like a girl who could really loosen up.”
I shoot him a glare, and he laughs.
“Hey, no, not like that. I just meant a dance. You look like you can dance. I bet a little alcohol would help calm your nerves.”
I turn a corner, wandering into a hallway that’s packed with couples making out against the walls. Bursts of coldness wash over me as I try to avoid touching any of them.
“I don’t drink.”
“So, you’re a bitchanda virgin. I get it.”
My breathing intensifies, pace quickening. “Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Following me.”
He laughs. “But you’re so easy to follow.”
Sweet.
Dainty.
Docile.
“Don’t you know guys like the chase? It’s half the fun, especially with a girl like you.”
