“Good girl,” he praises as I inhale the smoke.
His cocky attitude and imposing figure probably leave most girls weak in the knees. I’m sure this pretty boy is used to getting whateverhe wants from females.
But I’m not most girls.
Dragging his hand up to my mouth, I take a long pull before he even has time to catch on to what I’m doing. With my other hand, I pull on the neckline of his shirt, drawing him down to meet me part way. Our lips crash against each other in a flurry of teeth and tongue and smoke. I moan into his mouth as desire and drugs simultaneously pump through my veins.
“Well, well, well,” Sam drawls as he pulls back. “Aren’t you a fun surprise, new girl.”
“And don’t you have a girlfriend, football captain?” I quip back at him.
He smiles at me, licking his lips. My core clenches as he sizes me up like a predator, ready to devour. Why do the dumb jocks always have to be so damn hot?
“I’m not really a one girl kind of guy, if you know what I mean,” he answers with a small wink.
“Neither am I.” I match his cocky attitude. “A one girl kind of girl, I should say.”
“That’s hot,” he snarls before his lips meet mine again. His fingers find my hips, pulling me tightly against him.
Despite the cold weather, my body feels as if it’s on fire. His touch is harsh, aggressive, and exactly what I need. I may only be eighteen, but I’ve been with enough tentative, shy lovers to know that I need a harsher hand. And Sam certainly has a harsh hand.
The shrill ring of the bell causes me to jump. I pull away, almost smacking my head against the bricks behind me.
“Guess that’s our sign,” Sam says with a small laugh as he chucks the joint to the ground and stubs it out with his toe. “You’re coming to the party tomorrow though, right?”
“Isn’t a party a bad idea? You know, with the murder?” I ask as he pulls away and adjusts himself not so discreetly.
“Nah, Brad is on the run. No way he’s anywhere around here.” Sam slides his thick fingers through his sleek black hair. “Come on, it’ll be dope! Sex, drugs, and wannabe prom queens. What could go wrong, am I right?”
I fear that he’s most certainly not right.
STACEY
Eyes Without A Face by Billy Idol
The bass rattles through the floorboards as “Eyes Without A Face,” by Billy Idol blares through the speaker. I scan the room, glow-in the dark balloons adorn the space, bodies grind on each other. People gather around the dinner table, watching as a group of jocks play beer pong against each other.
My grip tightens around my red solo cup, when I notice Sam isn’t amongst the crowd. Something wicked shoots down my spine as I brush back my perfectly curled hair. The gloss on my lips sticks together from how tightly I'm pursing them before I relax them into the fakest smile I can conjure. My neon jumpsuit and tutu outfit with matching hot pink leg warmers is hot. My tits look great in the tight spandex. My blue eye shadow is perfectly done. My hair isbouncy. I look perfect.
Iamperfect.
One of the joys of being Queen Bee is never letting anyone see the crack beneath the beauty. Smoothing out my features, I walk towards the crowd. The party is chaotic, and searching through the darkness is not making it any better. But I need to seehim.
“Looking good, Stace,” one of jocks slurs, leaning on the corner of the table after completely missing his shot. I smile gracefully wishing he would just politely fuck off. “Wanna go somewhere pri—” Yeah, this is where it ends. I don’t bother listening to the remainder of his words before I turn away and walk towards the kitchen.
On my way there, everyone stares at me. Everyone knows this is my party. My rules. My house and my night. And yet, somehow it doesn’t feel like it. Because the most important person is missing… and something tells me—it’s because of her.
The new bitch.Jessica.
The girl with the bad attitude, split ends, and thrift store boots. Nothing like his type. I should know. Yet, something sets off alarm bells within my head. Just the thought of her thinking she can slither her way into my circle, has my blood boiling with rage. My hands grip my cup tighter and tighter until warm beer inside spills onto my hand.
She thinks I don’t notice how she looks at Sam. How she’s hanging around us— aroundhim. Then I spot them, hanging outside on the deck looking over the lake. It feels like a punch to the gut, that’sourspot. My brother and I haven’t always had it easy. Our parents suck.But we always have each other. And when the fighting gets too bad we always end up out there, on the deck, together. It’s our fucking safe space. My stomach turns, and I chuck the cup onto the ground. Slowly, I stalk around everyone, my eyes fixed on the way she gives him a shy smile that screams‘Pick me.Want me.Fuck me.’
Pathetic.
I slip out the back door, the cold night air greeting me and making my skin pebble underneath my dress. Sam is smiling, smoking, and looking at her with adoration and something that should definitely not fucking be there. Sam is mine. Everyone knows it. They just think it’s a normal twin connection, but they are so wrong.
“Yo, Stacey, great party, girl,” some random bitch I don’t know says as she steps in my way. Pulling me out of the hunt, my lips stretch into a smile. So foreign that I'm sure it’s uncanny.
