Chapter 23

According to Max, the show ended far too early. He tried to confront the band members, but they just laughed, dismissing him with a wave of their hands as if his antics were an every-Friday-night occurrence. Since he was older, Kohen had his own apartment in a run-down complex in the middle of town, and it was decided we'd continue the party there. Hudson lived with him, and from what I guessed, they were the closest in age.

There were stacks of dishes in the sink, and the coffee table was littered with ashtrays and obscure bongs. Band posters plastered the walls, and I inspected them, wondering if Hunter had the same music on one of his numbered playlists. The nicest thing in the apartment was a giant flat-screen TV, and it stuck out like a sore thumb on the peeling walls. I sat on a shabby couch while Kohen passed out beers. As soon as we sat down, Max was on his phone, insisting the place needed more people. And by people, he meant girls.

We sat around the coffee table playing a game called Kings. I didn't know how to play, so I followed along with Hunter. Every so often, a bong circulated through the group, but I passed it along. Hunter did too but with a sideways glance at me, as though maybe there were times he didn't. As if I would jump up and draw the line at marijuana when he stuck multiple cancer sticks in his mouth every day.

Melody's new tactic was to pretend I didn't exist, but her interest reignited when four girls walked in. She shot me a demonic grin and waved them over with far too much enthusiasm.

"Melissa!" She stood to hug the tallest girl with one quick arm.

Hunter was deep in conversation with the guy sitting next to him, but his head shot up.

Melissa stared back at him, her smile soft and hesitant, as she pulled away from Melody. "Hey, Hunter. Long time no see."

She wore a tight black skirt, and I tugged at my own sweater, the threads itching at my skin in mocking wholesomeness. The powder on her face covered the freckles dotting her nose and cheeks, although they still poked through. She was beautiful, but she struck me as someone who might be prettiest as she rolled over in the morning. And based on both of their expressions, I suspected Hunter could confirm or deny that assumption.

"Hey." Hunter's gaze flicked to me as he gestured in my direction, but Max beat him to it.

"Melissa, this is Alice ... Hunter's ... um ..." Max turned to me, one hand perched beneath his chin in mocking interest. "What are you exactly, Alice?"

My face burned bright red. "We go to the same school."

Max burst into whooping laughter, and even Hudson smirked.

"Ouch!" Max whacked Hunter on the back, his voice low and mischievous in his ear. "Not even friends, dude." He gestured to me again in polite clarification, his voice louder. "Allow me to introduce Alice, Hunter's schoolmate. And this is Amy, Dominique, and Cayla."

I offered them a limp wave. "Hi."

Two of them smiled at me, tight-lipped and brief. One didn't acknowledge me at all, but Melissa's response was much warmer than expected. "Nice to meet you, Alice."

I nodded back before she and her friends retreated to the kitchen for a drink. Another game of Kings started, but my interest wavered. I couldn't help glancing at Melissa every few seconds, drinking and laughing with her friends in the doorway of the kitchen.

I was there, sitting next to Hunter, but my attention was on her as she clutched her friend's arm, leaning into her in hilarity. It made me miss Margo with a sudden undeserving pang. She did the exact same thing, clutching on to others as if a joke wasn't as funny if she had no one to share it with.

I could tell Melissa and her friends hung out with Hunter's often. They assimilated into the party with ease. There was no small talk or awkward lulls. Some of their conversations seemed to be continuations from previous nights, or they laughed at jokes that required you to have been present to understand them, and everyone had been there except me.

"Hey." Hunter touched my knee, and I redirected my attention to him, praying he couldn't read my thoughts. "I'm going to run to the bathroom. You okay here?"

I smiled with as much genuineness as I could muster.

I watched him walk away as he headed toward Melissa and her friends. They were too far away for me to hear the conversation, but her smile was kind as he approached, and the kindness was almost worse. A part of me wished she were as horrible as Melody so I wouldn't feel bad hating her. One of the girls said something to Hunter as he squeezed by. He grinned back at them before responding, and they all laughed.

I looked away, and my gaze caught on Melody smirking at me. She was seated in an armchair across from me, but she stood up, sauntered over, then plopped into Hunter's vacant spot. She sat close enough that we were almost touching, and I leaned away from her, waiting for whatever nastiness she intended.

"They used to date."

Yep, there it is.I sighed.

"No, they didn't," a different voice said, and we both glanced around. Hudson leaned forward in his chair, intent on our conversation. His words were edged with impatience, and Melody hesitated.

"Fine." She crossed her arms. "Maybe they weren't technically dating, but we both know they were definitely having sex."

I stilled, the words as crass and jarring as Margo's in the bathroom.

Hudson put both hands on his knees before standing up. "Join me for a cigarette."

I looked around, but his laser gaze rested only on me. "What? Me?" My eyes darted to Melody, and she looked as confused as I felt. "But ... I don't smoke."

He waved at the bottles scattered across the coffee table. "And I don't drink, yet here I am."

Hadn't he been drinking at the concert? He headed toward the balcony, his movements as rigid as the ROTC cadets who walked around school in their uniforms. He didn't look to see if I followed, but he left the sliding glass door open. When I slipped onto the balcony, he was already smoking. His other hand gripped the frozen railing as he faced the courtyard below. I stood next to him, cold and unsure.

"Are you the jealous type?" he asked, not bothering to look at me.

"I don't know." The candid half of my brain rolled its eyes, because who the hell was I kidding? Of course I was the jealous type. I'd been plagued by the thought of Hunter with another girl. I was jealous of Melody's ability to engage in mild public displays of affection with Kohen, and I was jealous Melissa woke up every morning as herself.

"Okay, yes," I said, and the corner of his mouth lifted.

We were both quiet, and though he seemed at ease, I grew uncomfortable. "Why don't you drink?"

"Because I don't."

"Yeah, that's sort of what I thought," I muttered to myself. "I wondered, ‘Why doesn't he drink?' and I figured, ‘Hmm, it's probably because he doesn't.'"

For the first time, Hudson laughed, but the sound was hushed and weary and all wrong. It was like an oxymoron, miserable and happy at the very same time. It only lasted a moment, and when he brought his cigarette to his lips again, he eyed me for the first time. "You shouldn't be jealous."

I didn't say anything.

"They were barely a thing. Melody doesn't know what she's talking about."

I wished his words provided the comfort they intended, but my brain stuck on the "barely" part. I sighed, facing the courtyard again.

"It's hard not to be jealous. I mean, I don't exactly ..." I glanced at my boots, their brownness so different from everyone else's black leather and Converses.

He studied me as though I was something foreign before he shook his head, a small smirk on his face as if I'd missed the whole point somewhere. "You're the very thing they're all trying to cultivate."

I stared at him, and he shrugged, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the darkness in front of us. "There's nothing more emo than a tragic popular girl."

"What makes you think I'm tragic?"

He turned to me, eyebrows raised. "Are you not?"

I looked out at the courtyard below. Someone had left a child's mitten on the picnic table, and it made me sad for some reason. "I don't know."

He turned around and leaned against the rail of the balcony, both arms folded across his chest. "It's also weird to be jealous when you're the prettiest one here."

My gaze shot up to meet his. I couldn't have strung words together if I tried.

"Oh, come on, don't be so obnoxious. You must know you're really pretty. I mean, people tend to know that sort of thing."

I stared at him, half horrified, but he laughed as if he was expecting it. "Relax, would you? I'm not interested in your type."

My face burned at the disgust in his tone, and I tried to focus on the three or four flakes of snow hanging in the air in front of me.

He sighed. "Girls,Alice. For fuck's sake, girls. I'm not interested in girls."

I looked back up at him, and he rolled his eyes, annoyed he had to explain himself.

"Well, how the hell would I know that?" I demanded, and his eyes widened at the harshness in my tone before he laughed again.

"I thought it was obvious."

"Yeah, you're the epitome of all the stereotypes," I said.

He made a strangled sound that might have been a huff of laughter, but it was hard to say for sure. After that, we stood in silence. I was so cold I was beginning to feel numb, but the air between us had adopted a strange sort of pleasantness I didn't want to leave.

"You guys are best friends, aren't you?" I asked. Hudson didn't talk much, but he talked to Hunter. Unlike his one-line contributions to the group, he spewed words near Hunter's shoulder that weren't worthy of the rest of us.

He nodded once. "Yes."

I thought of Hunter sitting in the far corner of the cafeteria, withdrawn and quiet, as he worked on his calculus homework. All this time, I'd assumed Melody was Hunter's only friend, but I'd had it wrong. Hunter had a place, and it wasn't sitting by himself.

"And while we're being honest," he said, "I don't much like thinking about the people he's slept with either."

I froze. His smirk was slow and cunning as he watched my thoughts pump through my brain, his raised eyebrows egging me on as I tried to piece his words together. I squinted at him. I thought of his greeting in the car, of him glaring at me at the concert. Of his gaze stuck on Hunter and me, then just on Hunter before it darted away.

"Oh. So that's why you hate me," I said, and he shrugged, smirking as he put his cigarette out in the bowl behind us.

"Don't take it personally. I'm also the jealous type, but I think I have it a bit harder than you do."

The glass door slid open, and we both twisted around as Hunter filled the frame. "Hey! There you are. I was worried you might have left. Jesus, it's cold as all fuck out here."

"We figured we'd give the party a break. One too many big personalities," Hudson said. He exchanged a dark look with Hunter, their nonverbal communication seamless, as I glanced between them like an idiot.

"What did she say?" Hunter asked, but Hudson shook his head with such subtleness he barely twitched.

Hunter abandoned the question and redirected his attention to me instead. "You're being recruited for flip cup, Alice."

Hudson snorted. "Let me guess."

Hunter opened his mouth to respond, but he was interrupted by Max slinging one arm around his shoulder. Max's footing caught on the lip separating the balcony from the living room, and he leaned into Hunter to brace himself, unfazed. Hunter pushed him upright as he grinned at Hudson and me in disbelief.

"Get your asses in the kitchen," Max said. "I'm not taking no for an answer."

Hunter laughed as he pushed him back toward the living room. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, we're coming."

Instead of leaving, Max poked his head out again, his eyes wide and childlike. "Alice? You're coming, right?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, and he beamed at me before ducking back inside.

Hudson and I started forward at the same time, but he stopped, sighing as he waved one hand. "After you, Princess."

I glanced up at him and he smirked, but it was twisting and thorny, and then he looked past me at Hunter standing in the doorway.