Chapter 19

By Friday night, I still hadn't bailed. Instead, I floundered around my room for over an hour, trying to select an outfit that would be suitable for a concert. I knew what Margo and Casey would wear, and I knew what sort of outfit they'd try to force me into, but as I browsed my closet, I couldn't quite remember what I liked in the first place. I settled on a light gray sweater that wasn't completely awful and a floral headband. But as I studied myself in the mirror, I couldn't have been plainer.

Chris was sitting on the couch, but I didn't look in his direction when I ambled down the stairs. I could feel him watching me as I dug through the front closet for my coat.

"What concert is it anyway?" he asked. When I didn't respond, he huffed. "It's been four days. How long are you going to keep this up, and why can't you just admit you wanted to go all along?"

I twisted around and pinned him with a menacing glare. "It's not about that."

He raised both hands to the ceiling. "Lord have mercy, she speaks!"

I continued ignoring him as I pulled on my boots and zipped my coat. Bright lights danced across the living room walls, and I took a deep breath, steadying myself. My fingers twitched against the side of my legs, the temperature in the house suddenly stifling. I glanced back at Chris before opening the door, and my eyes narrowed when I found him watching me again. "If I have a crap time, I'm coming into your room and murdering you tonight."

He grinned, my level of irritation fueling him. "If you have a crap time, it will be your own damn fault. Also, you don't scare me. You fight like a freaking pansy."

I scowled and gave him the finger over my shoulder, but it didn't faze him.

"Have a good time!" he called, and even the solid front door couldn't drown out his laughter as I snapped it closed behind me.

I shielded my eyes as I walked to the car idling outside, its bright lights too illuminating. I felt like a lab rat, suddenly self-conscious about superfluous things, like how my legs carried me and the way my arms hung on either side. I sighed in relief when I opened the passenger door to find no one sitting in the back. I climbed in, reveling in the darkness, as Hunter twisted around in his seat to grin at me. A boy with sandy hair was in the driver's seat, and I studied him in interest as Hunter gestured to him.

"This is Hudson. Hudson, Alice."

I smiled at him, but he didn't return it. He looked at me, acknowledging my presence for one blinking second, before he put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway.

The concert venue was an old warehouse on the edge of town, but there was no formality to it. There were no tickets, no sign, no paved parking lot, and though it didn't appear to be a legitimate business, there was some semblance of organization. A bouncer stood outside the front door, but he didn't quite fit the stereotype. He was regular sized with lots of metal piercings and yellow hair, and instead of checking IDs, he nodded at Hunter and Hudson in recognition before his eyes landed on me, cool and hostile.

"Who's she?" He inspected me with callousness, his eyes traveling down the length of me. It irked me that the question wasn't even directed at me, but I also felt too intimidated to respond. His black attire matched Hunter's and Hudson's, while my sweater and headband felt mortifying.

Hunter frowned. "Her name is Alice."

"How old is she?"

"Sixteen ... ?" Hunter trailed off to glance at me in question. I nodded once, surprised by his honesty.

The bouncer lit a cigarette. "A little young."

Hunter's jaw tightened. "Are you kidding? There are probably forty people in there younger than her."

"We don't need the cops called."

"Who said anything about calling the cops?" Hudson asked, speaking for the first time. His voice was quiet and calm, low enough that I might have had to strain to hear if his words weren't so articulate.

The bouncer looked me over again and shrugged. "She looks like the type."

Hudson studied me, and I thought he might roll his eyes or abandon me altogether, but his eyes darted away instead. "She's cool."

Hudson and the bouncer stared at each other for several seconds before the bouncer conceded. "Fine." He huffed. "Wrist."

He was looking at me, and I faltered. "W-what?"

"I need your wrist," he said, each word sharper than the last. When I still didn't move, he held up a handful of red wristbands.

I stared at him.

He looked at Hunter and Hudson. "Is she, like, deaf or something?"

"She'll put it on herself," Hunter said, reaching for one.

The bouncer yanked his hand back. "Um, no she won't."

I curled my fingers around my coat sleeves as I stood there in utter silence. I could feel people peeking around us, standing on their tiptoes, shifting impatiently. Hudson glanced back and forth between Hunter and me.

Hunter's fingers curled too, but his were in tight fists. "Give it to me. I'll put it on her."

The bouncer smirked. "Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"I'll do it right fucking in front of you," Hunter snapped.

The bouncer's smile widened.

Hudson put a hand on Hunter's forearm, so subtle the bouncer didn't even seem to notice. "Come on, Mason. What are they even for? You know everyone drinks anyway. Just let her put the thing on herself."

The bouncer shifted, no longer amused. "Whatever." He thrust a wristband at me. "Hurry up and put it on. You're holding up my line."

I fumbled with the wristband against my jeans, then removed the sticky part and wrapped it around my left wrist.

"Right wrist," the bouncer ordered.

I fumbled, trying to use my left hand.

"Do you need help?" Hunter asked softly. I glanced up at him, but my throat caught, and he was by my side in an instant. "Let me do it, Alice," he said, bending his head close to mine.

His fingers were quick and businesslike as he nudged my sleeve the tiniest bit so he could wrap the band around my wrist.

"Tighter," the bouncer said.

I could practically hear Hunter's teeth grinding as he ignored him. He attached the sticky part, and I looked away, face burning. Even though a mere centimeter of my wrist was exposed, you could still see the edge of a tangle of red lines, and I knew Hunter saw them.

His fingers were gentle as he pulled my coat sleeve down. He dropped my hand, glaring as he extended his own wrist to the bouncer, and Hudson did the same.

We walked inside, and I could feel Hudson studying me, but I didn't meet his gaze. I didn't even meet Hunter's, and as we pushed into the crowd, neither of them said a word.