Kit
Age 17
My initial reaction to the sweet, yet bitter and kind of awful drink was nothing but a gag that made Brett snicker from beside me. I contemplated why anyone would put themselves through drinking one, let alone enough to get drunk.
Then I was subjected to watching Delaney, dressed as a fallen angel, dance around the bonfire clad in a short, black dress that hugs her every curve, sexy fishnets, and heeled boots. Her eyeliner is perfect, and her smile is a sultry tilt of the lips that has the attention of several guys here.
One of those guys is none other than Bowen. Of course.
They claim they’re done, though. And this time, it’s “for real.” But the way he’s watching her?
It’s enough for me to give the drink another try.
And another.
Another.
Until all of a sudden, I’ve stolen three of them from the cooler, and everything feels way less serious.
“Does he think he’s being stealthy?” I scoff, throwing my thumb in Bowen’s direction. “He’s probably picturing her boobs right n—” I glance over at my best friend, but his chair is empty. I find him several chairs away, smirking down at a brunette.
He’s got his charming smile on. The one reserved for the female population. Judging by how the chick tucks her hair behind her ear, biting at her own smile and glancing away shyly…whatever he’s doing is working. Even though he’s dressed like the little girl fromDespicable Me—black hair up in a pony, his curls straightened so it would stick straight up like hers does.
I groan, sinking further down in the chair and finishing off what’s left in my bottle.
The only positive? I’m feeling much more mellow. I hardly care that I was dragged here, practically against my will, tricked into a fucking unicorn onesie so Brett could squeeze me every five minutes and squeal about me being so fluffy.
I hardly care that Bowen climbed into the back seat with me when Tucker took the passenger seat up front because I was being a baby and procrastinated leaving the house. Don’t care even a smidgen that Bowen hasn’t looked at me all night. Hasn’t looked at me since last weekend when he touched my bruised face. Climbed into bed with me and tried to talk…
Nope. Don’t go there.
Hardly fucking care.
The party isn’t as wild as I feared it would be. Maybe twenty-five people, most from school, from what I can tell. It’s Halloween, so everyone is dressed up. Except for Bowen.
There’s drinking, laughing, and dancing. It’s exactly the type of party I had wanted to go to just last weekend.
By the time the fourth bottle is empty, I’m feeling way better than just mellow. I’m feeling…
Delaney tilts her head back, a smile for the moon shining down on us. Its silvery light makes her glow as she twirls and sways her hips, the streamers on her black wings following behind her every move.
Can’t be that hard.
I snort to myself, climbing to my feet. The music isn’t blasting, but it’s loud enough that when I close my eyes, I can drown out most of the rest of the noise. And I move.
Slow at first, then I find the beat and dance like no one is watching. Because there probably isn’t. Who would watch the drunk unicorn when there is a sexy angel?
The sudden heat on my back has nothing to do with the fire and everything to do with the body that’s moved up behind me.
“What are you doing?”
His breath tickles my skin and sends a bolt of electricity down my spine. I suck in a shaky breath.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I murmur.
Is that my voice? Why is it so breathy?
“Impersonating a rabid horse?” Bowen teases into my ear, and holy fucking shit, were those his lips that grazed me?
