Chapter 39

"Wear something hot."

I sifted through my closet, cradling my phone between my ear and shoulder. "How hot?"

"Hot, Alice. Like ‘we are the only freshmen who got invited' hot."

I held up a dress for inspection. "How about that black dress I bought at the mall a few weeks ago?"

"Which one again?"

"It's plain black ... tight ... I said it was too short, and you said there's no such thing."

She let out a gust of laughter. "Yes, oh my god, that dress is perfect."

I tossed it on my bed and began rummaging through the shoes piled at the bottom. "Is Casey coming?"

"I don't know. She's being a pain in the ass. Her cousin was supposed to buy us a bottle, but now she's saying she might have to meet us there because it's her grandpa's birthday or some shit."

I placed a pair of black stilettos next to my dress, half listening. "Hmm, that sucks."

"Yeah, totally. Oh! Brian's going, by the way."

"I thought we were the only freshmen who got invited?"

"Well, yeah, except for him. His sister's a senior."

"Oh yeah ... Carly."

Margo huffed. "Forget about Carly. Maybe you and Brian can finally agree to start dating again, and then get married and have each other's babies."

"Right, don't think so. Hang on, why is a senior going to a sophomore's party?"

"Oh, Alice, this isn't just any regular old sophomore party."

* * *

And Margo was right.No one was missing the party. Even if it was thrown by an underclassman. We knocked on the heavy door, peeking across the front lawn already littered with red cups and a few stumbling people. After we'd waited a few minutes, three upperclassmen pushed us aside and strolled in. They rolled their eyes as we followed.

Margo nudged my shoulder as she gazed around in wide-eyed interest. "Okay, whatever you do, act like you belong here."

"Yeah, right."

We wandered into the kitchen and hovered between groups of friends we didn't belong to. Margo cracked first. "This is so embarrassing. We should just go. We are literally the only ones who don't have any alcohol."

"It's fine," I murmured, eyeing the group of guys next to us. "Hey!" It came out of nowhere, and Margo inhaled as though I'd shot her in the chest.

The one closest to me gave me a quick once-over, and when he lifted his gaze to meet mine, he smiled. "Hey." His hair was long, almost to his shoulders, and sandy brown. He was tall, and I figured he had to be older, maybe a junior or senior.

He and his friends watched in interest as I plucked a red plastic cup from the counter, inspected it for cleanliness, then held it out to him. "We're looking for donations."

He grinned. "Is that right?"

"Yes, that's right."

He moved closer to me, leaning over to pour something purple into my cup before turning to the rest of his friends. "What do you think, guys? Care to make a donation?"

His friends shuffled forward. They offered their drinks one by one with sly smiles, as if sharing their alcohol benefited them as much as it did us.

"So you ladies smoke?" the tall one asked.

My eyebrows pinched together as I tasted my drink. "Smoke what?"

For some reason, he laughed. "Anything."

"No," I said at the exact same time Margo said, "Yes."

They all laughed again. I looked at Margo in surprise, but she just shrugged.

"Better get on board ..." He hesitated, gesturing to me in question.

"Alice. It's Alice."

He smirked, placing his hand on his chest. "Aaron. Well, we're going to go ..." He held up something in explanation.

It didn't look like a cigarette, but I wasn't sure what it was, so I settled on an awkward nod.

"Let me know if you change your mind," he said, leaning close to me as he walked by. "Oh, and Alice?" He twisted around to showcase his bottle of vodka. "Find me when your donation runs out." His grin spread wide. "I'm feeling generous tonight."

* * *

"That donation thing was genius!"Margo said, pressing into me as we headed into the basement. It was more crowded than the upstairs, and we hung around near the bottom of the stairs, too overwhelmed to venture any farther. We'd been to parties before, but this was different.

"I didn't know this many people even went to our school!" Margo shouted in my ear, and I nodded in disbelief.

There was a long table in the far corner littered with red cups and surrounded by people cheering. Two couches were crowded with couples desperate to get closer to each other, and the dance floor was crammed with people who looked as if they were having the type of fun you could only hope to be part of.

We finished our drinks in a rush and stumbled onto the dance floor, pulling and tugging on each other's hands. We pushed into the middle and twisted our hips into each other as we joined the meshing crowd. I caught Aaron looking at me a while later. He stood at the edge of the basement with the same friends as upstairs. I waved at him over my shoulder, and he tipped his drink at me. Margo pressed her hips into me, and I wrapped my arms around her, keeping my gaze on him. His eyes dropped to our hips. When we made eye contact again, his cheeks were hot, and I was grinning.

"He can't keep his eyes off you," Margo said in my ear, both her hands now on my waist. "He's definitely the hottest one."

I stuck my tongue out at her, and she rolled her eyes. "I guess I'll have to settle for his friend." She eyed them. "He's pretty hot too, I guess. Come on, let's get more to drink."

When we stopped in front of Aaron, he raised his eyebrows. "Nice moves." He reached for his bottle of vodka.

"Do you dance?" I asked.

"I try not to." He grinned and I laughed easily. Probably too easily.

Margo's cup had been refilled too, and she knocked into me, laughing and flailing before she leaned into Aaron's friend. His eyes widened in surprise, and he glanced around as if he couldn't believe his luck.

Unlike his friend, Aaron eyed Margo with some annoyance, his eyebrows stitching together. "Your friend is wasted already."

"I can hear you!" Margo yelled, but Aaron snickered.

Someone pushed behind us, and Aaron jumped forward, grabbing the someone by the arm. He threw his arm around a boy who looked quite a bit younger than him with a blond buzz cut and clear blue eyes. "You're in luck, ladies," he said, thumping the boy on the chest. "The man, the myth, the legend ... the party host."

I gave the boy a polite smile, figuring he must be the infamous sophomore, and it was confirmed when Margo almost keeled over. The blond kid grimaced, and it was clear he was uninterested in the interruption as he craned his neck toward wherever he had been heading.

"I swear your parties get better every time." Aaron kept his arm around the boy's shoulder and beamed at him, and I cringed at his idolization.

"Uh, yeah ... okay ... well, I'll see you, man." The blond kid reached to lazily slap Aaron's hand, but his eyes flicked to me and the polite smile on my face, and he stilled. "Holy shit. You are, like, insanely hot."

His gaze crawled down the length of me, and my eyes widened for a moment before I regained my composure. I shrugged, far more confidently than I actually felt. "You caught me on a good day."

He grinned, turning his entire body toward me as he abandoned whatever he had been heading off to do. "I haven't seen you here before. What's your name?" He leaned in close, and I inhaled, the strength of his cologne making me dizzy. It smelled like Abercrombie Fitch, and he was hotter than one of the models.

"Alice."

"Scott," he said, gesturing to himself, but he said it as if I should already know it.

"Do you go to Franklin?" I took a sip of my drink and tilted my head to one side in polite interest. His eyebrows shot up as he stared at me. Margo sputtered into her drink, and Aaron whacked her on the back without dragging his gaze from our conversation.

Scott laughed, stepping even closer to me. "I do. You?"

I nodded. "I'm a freshman."

Margo tried to wedge herself between us. "I'm Margo. I'm a freshman too."

Scott glanced at her. His brows furrowed as if he was just noticing her standing there. "Yeah, what's up." He returned his gaze to me. "So what do you think of the party, Alice?"

I could practically hear Margo grinding her teeth over the throbbing music. "It's all right."

He tipped his head back and laughed, and when his eyes met mine again, his were blazing. "You're a tough one to impress."

I mock sighed. "The house is too big, the dance floor is too small, I can't get a decent drink, and I can't find a boy who likes to dance as much as I do." It was so obnoxious I hated myself on Aaron's behalf. All I got was a huff from his direction before Scott yanked me to him with a wild grin.

"Well, you're in luck, love," he said, his voice hot in my ear, and then he tugged me away, my heart beating so fast I was afraid it might stop altogether. He pulled me to an exclusive table, and I left Margo behind without so much as a backward glance.

Several people were lurking around the table, and they nodded at us. I nodded back, feeling shy all of a sudden as I leaned into Scott. His fingers twisted with mine as he poured two drinks one-handed. He pushed one toward my mouth.

I took a swig and started choking immediately, my eyes watering from the smell alone. "Is this supposed to taste good?"

He grinned and took a long drink from his own red cup. "Not really, but you wanted something decent, and that's a three-hundred-dollar bottle of whiskey."

My eyes widened in surprise, but I schooled my features. "What? You out of Smirnoff or something?"

He burst into laughter, and I couldn't help grinning back because up until that point, the only person who found me funny was my own brother. The liquor tasted terrible, but I drank it anyway as he watched in appreciation, laughing when my face pinched in distaste. We took sips together, leaning into each other as we laughed and sputtered, sharing the same cup of Coke as a chaser. When we finished, he pulled me to the dance floor, the liquor burning bright and energetic in my chest.

We fought to the middle of the floor and found a spot beneath the glittering disco ball. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing into him with ease. He returned the favor, his fingers trailing lower and lower. I turned around and bent forward as Margo and I had practiced, and his reaction was better than I possibly could have imagined.

"Fuck," he muttered. His fingers gripped my hips even tighter.

People pushed into us from every direction, but his hands didn't leave me, not even when other girls tried to push themselves between us. I turned back toward him. With my shoes on, I was tall enough that our gazes were level. I'm not sure if it was the alcohol or his bright desperate eyes, but when his gaze dipped to my mouth, I pressed my lips to his. His mouth was warm and hungry, devouring me as his hand came to my hair. When we broke apart, his lips were pink, and I could taste the liquor, strong and daring.

"Goddamn," he said.

"What?" I asked, biting my bottom lip.

"Nothing ... I ... you are so fucking hot." And then his mouth was on mine again, and neither of us said anything for a long time.

We stayed like that the whole night, intertwined with each other as we alternated between the dance floor and makeshift bar. I mostly lost track of Margo. She surfaced from time to time, and I remembered her snapping a picture of Scott and me on the black leather couch. I huddled around her phone to inspect it, stumbling before she grabbed my elbow to keep me upright.

I don't know what time Scott pulled me toward the basement stairs, but Margo was nowhere to be seen. I was supposed to sleep over at her house because, unlike mine, her curfew was flexible.

Scott paused to kiss me in the huge foyer beneath the largest chandelier I'd ever seen. "I'm so obsessed with you," he panted. He pulled me up the stairs, and for some reason, I went.

The marble staircase was long and winding, and I giggled when he tried to push open the first door on the left at the top of the stairs. It was locked, and he banged his fist against it. "Motherfuckers!" He looked down at me, his expression twisted in thought, before he pushed me into the room across the hallway instead. "Come on."

We stumbled inside, and he shoved me against the wall, the back of my head smacking into it. I laughed out of sheer surprise, but I wasn't sure he even heard it, because his lips were on my neck as I scanned the room. It was dark, but there was one large bay window on the opposite wall. The light shone through it, illuminating a double bed and a sitting area near the window. It must have been some sort of guest bedroom, because it was plain and formal.

We staggered toward the window, clinging and laughing. He lost his balance on the way, whacking his shin on the four-poster bed, but managed to steady himself against me. With the weight of his body and wobbliness of my own legs, we collapsed on the floor behind an old-fashioned couch. I barely had time to sputter a laugh before his mouth was on mine again.

As his lips trailed the length of my neck, I tipped my head back and grinned at the ceiling. I wasn't completely inexperienced. Brian's hand had skimmed my thigh a time or two, but that was about it. My virginity had already become an irritating weight, and while the kissing was exciting, the prospect of going all the way before Margo and Casey was positively thrilling.

His hand came to the inside of my thigh, then slipped under my dress. I pressed my hips against him, encouraging the slow, methodical rhythm I expected, but without any warning at all, one finger shoved its way inside me. And it hurt.

"Wait." I pulled my lips from his as I breathed hard against him.

His eyebrows furrowed. "For what?"

My reaction had been reflexive, and my cheeks turned pink in the dark between us. Instead of waiting another second, his fingers continued their onslaught. I attempted to tolerate it, more afraid of being called a prude than the threat of his strength on top of me. I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for the pain to subside, but it didn't.

"Wait, stop," I said again, unable to help myself. I placed both hands against his chest and tried to sit up. Maybe we were in the wrong position. Maybe something was wrong with me. Maybe I just needed a second to breathe.

He stared at me, and I stiffened as his gaze turned dark and irritated. "What the hell, Alice?"

I blinked as if awakening from a stupor. Suddenly, the formality of the guest room was unnerving, and the floor was uncomfortable beneath me. "I don't ... can we maybe take a break for a minute?"

He tipped his head back and laughed, except this time, it wasn't because I was funny. "It's a little late for that, don't you think?"

His lips pressed against my neck again, and I tried to wriggle out from under him, desperate to put some distance between us.

"Come on, Alice. You can't wear a dress like this, kiss me first, practically have sex with me on the dance floor all night, come upstairs with me, and then try to pretend like you don't want me to fuck you."

Hysteria trickled into my brain, and the next words out of my mouth were just plain humiliating. "Wait, I thought ... I thought you liked me."

He frowned. "I do like you. That's the whole point."

He caught my jaw with one hand and held it firmly in place as he mashed his lips to mine with so much force it was sure to leave bruises. At that moment, I realized shoving his hand in my underwear had been his way of trying to seduce me, and whatever scant etiquette there had been was clearly gone.

"Try to relax. I swear it'll feel good." He shoved my dress above my waist in one quick motion. Panic clouded my brain, but the words in my head were heavy and hard to reach. I tried to wedge my knee between us, my wrists straining against his chest, but he dropped on top of me, his weight crushing.

I grew desperate. My fingernails scratched at his arms, then clawed at my bare thighs. "Wait ... please ... I need a second."

But he didn't hear me. He only paused to yank my underwear down as if it was nothing but a mild inconvenience. He fiddled with his belt, and I tried to thrust him off me, but he didn't even budge. He pulled his jeans and boxers down just enough for something to spring out, and revolting nausea rolled through me when I saw it.

He hesitated, staring down at me. "Are you a virgin?"

My eyes widened, the words caught deep in my throat.

"I'll take that as a yes. In that case, maybe it won't feel so good, but next time will be better, I promise."

His finger touched me, and I seized. I tried to squeeze my legs together, but he thrust his finger inside of me anyway, and I bit my lip, wincing in pain.

"Come on, Alice. You're only making it worse for yourself," he said softly. He took his finger out, and my brain slowed in sheer horror as I watched him stick it in his mouth. His eyes were heated, hot with intent, and I thrashed against him as he repositioned himself. I tried to cry out. I tried to push him off me, shake my head, anything to make him hesitate, but he didn't—not for one second.

He clamped one hand over my mouth as he kneed my legs apart, crushing one of them with his own. I felt him against me, and it spurred something deep and dormant. I shook in frantic desperation, bucking with a strength that hadn't existed a minute ago, but it was futile. It all was.

I drifted away then, watching myself as I looked down from elsewhere. I watched a girl with blondish-brownish hair as her head lolled to the side, the tears finally ebbing as everything that made her alive dripped out. And as the fight became too difficult, she stopped fighting altogether.

I watched as his breath grew more and more ragged, and eventually, he collapsed against her. I hoped his weight might kill her. I watched his wet lips press against her neck. And I felt it too.

"That was incredible." His fingers skimmed her cheek as if she was a porcelain doll instead of skin and bones. "You and I are going to be the best romance this school has ever seen."

And if he didn't shatter her into a thousand pieces, I vowed to do it for him until there was nothing left but dust.

* * *

I don't knowwhen he left. I winced when he pulled himself out of me, and I heard him zip his pants and close the door behind him, but I lay there for what seemed like hours, blinking when bright light poured into the room from the hallway. I heard people come in, but I didn't even bother to pull my dress down. The couch concealed me, but even if it hadn't, I didn't have the energy or the will.

"What the hell are you doing? You can't smoke in here!"

"Oh, give me a break."

"Just put it out," the boy said, and I didn't need to see his face to know it was pinched with irritation.

The girl huffed. "Fine." Despite her returned irritation, her voice was high-pitched and cheery.

"Now, what are we doing in here exactly?" His voice was still cool, but instead of irritated, he sounded bored out of his mind.

"Hiding."

"If you have to hide from your boyfriend at a party, you probably shouldn't be dating him."

"It's not ... I like him ... it's ..." She stopped. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

He scoffed. "Yeah, of course I think you're pretty."

"I don't think Keith thinks I'm pretty."

"Well, Keith is a fucking idiot."

They were quiet for a minute, and I thought I heard light footsteps as one moved closer to the other. "If you think I'm so pretty, maybe we should just have sex." Her voice was flirtatious, and I closed my eyes, expecting the sick sound of desire, but he laughed.

"Uh, yeah, I'm not having sex with you."

"See, I knew it! I'm repulsive! You obviously think so, and Keith obviously thinks so."

"Jesus. Just because I don't want to have sex with you doesn't mean I automatically find you repulsive."

"Well, come on then!" she pressed, her self-esteem back intact.

I heard the fiddling of something, maybe metal, but it faded with the distant sound of shifting. "Stop it."

They were both quiet again.

"Why don't you want to sleep with me?" She sounded as though she was a few helpless seconds from tears.

He sighed. "For starters, you have a boyfriend. He is quite literally in this house right now, so excuse me if I don't want to fuck someone else's girlfriend. Secondly, it's degrading. Don't you think you deserve better than having casual sex with me just because your asshole boyfriend makes you feel like shit for one night?"

"Not really ..."

"Well, you do. And you deserve better than that jackass. He's unbearable."

"You're just mad because he called you Holden Caulfield."

"That too."

"I think it was supposed to be a compliment."

"It wasn't."

"Hmmm," she hummed.

"He's probably wondering where the fuck we both are."

"You're making me paranoid."

"You should be."

"Should I go look for him?"

"I'd say so."

"Will you come with me?"

"I think I'll pass, but thanks for the offer."

I heard a faint noise in the hallway, and I seized, terrified they might leave.

"Oh shit," she whispered, "is that Keith?"

"Sure sounds like it."

"What should I do?"

"Gee, I don't know, maybe go out there and say, ‘Hey, Keith, what's up?'"

"That sounds suspicious."

"Right, totally."

I heard the sound in the hallway again as the guy they were talking about must have moved closer, calling her name.

"Okay, I'm going out there."

"Thank fuck. You're giving me a migraine."

"Whatever. See you later, asshole."

I heard her footsteps move across the room as she headed for the door.

"Hey," he called, and she stopped. "You're the prettiest girl I know."

She laughed, delighted and good-natured. "You're a big fat liar, but I love you anyway."

A sliver of light peeked in the room again, but then the door closed, and it was only the two of us. I heard him shuffle around the bed toward the window, and I held my breath.

"Fuck it," he muttered to himself, and I flinched at the sound of scraping wood before realizing he was opening the window. After more scraping and breathlessness, I heard the snap of a lighter as he exhaled. He stood like that for a long time, the smell of cigarette smoke drifting to me despite the open window. I listened to his soft inhales and exhales, and I tried to match my breath to his. I tried to imagine how I'd feel standing next to him, gazing out at the moon.

A small part of me wanted to call out to him. Despite his flatness, he sounded like the type of person who might call 911 or at least show a little sympathy. He could have had sex with his friend if he'd wanted to, but he hadn't, and that had to mean something. Maybe he'd help me fix my dress or offer to drive me home, but I was too afraid, so I didn't say a thing. I lay there instead, matching my breaths to his as I tried to cling on to the only thing left to cling to.

He left eventually, and when I couldn't lie there any longer, I climbed to my feet, wincing from the pain between my legs. I pulled my dress down and smoothed my hair with shaky fingers. I forgot my shoes. I didn't know when they'd come off, but I abandoned them in that bedroom as I padded down the twisting staircase in my bare feet. I focused on each stair in front of me, terrified if I looked up, Scott might be staring back. A boy and a girl climbed up the stairs, their hands intertwined, but they didn't glance twice at me. No one did.

I pushed open the solid front door, and as the party raged on, I crept across the front lawn, my feet cold and wet as I walked home.