Heather
As I got ready for the party, I wondered if I’d made a good decision. It was too late to second-guess myself, but I already knew that Bella and her friends didn’t have that much in common with . I didn’t like to shop or gossip. I liked to read and loved to listen to a good DJ set.
Every once in a while, I’d convince West to take to a club and we’d dance all night. I wore sothing to cover most of my skin, and West kept people away from .
It was one of my favorite things. Not like they had much of that around here and West would be leaving next week, but still, Bella and I just didn’t see eye to eye on music. Which might not seem like a big thing, but it was most likely the beginning of a fatal flaw in our relationship.
I’d bitten my nails down to the quick. When West saw gnawing on my fingers, he offered to tag along with , but I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let him do that. He was leaving soon. I had to do this on my own. But I was keeping my cell in my pocket just in case I needed backup.
By eight, Bella was waiting for outside. Her crooked smile spelled mischief as I closed the door to her little silver Honda.
Her red hair hung halfway down her back in perfect curls. "You ready?" she asked.
Nope. Not at all. "Totally."
Bella’s country music filled the silence as she drove through the winding streets. I tried to tune it out, but the singer whining about losing so la boyfriend was like needles digging in my eardrums.
"This song is great," I said, my la attempt at trying to start a conversation.
"I know, right? It’s one of my faves." She turned it up.
Thankfully, only a few minutes passed before she pulled into a packed driveway and parked. "Nervous?" she said.
I wondered if the gleam in her eye ant that she was hoping I was nervous. "I’m more curious than anything."
"It’ll be fun. Plus, it’s Texas. We’re all nice," she lifted one shoulder, "for the most part."
Yeah, I wasn’t buying that one. I had a feeling that got on Bella’s bad side, she would beco a huge pain in my ass.
She grabbed her purse and pulled out a glittery tube of lip-gloss. "Here. Try this one."
Oh God. That was a terrible idea, but one I couldn’t refuse without being rude.
"Thanks." I took the tube from her, and with a shaking hand, started to apply the gloss in the vanity mirror.
Short, staggering visions popped through my mind of the different places she used the gloss.
In a bathroom. In her car. In English class. In Carlos’ car.
And then she was at a pharmacy. She looked around as her pulse pounded. The coast was clear. She put the gloss in her pocket as she walked down the aisle, toward the exit. Her fear and excitent filled .
And then I was back in her car. I pulled the tube from my lips. Bella was texting and hadn’t noticed a thing.
I exhaled slowly and focused on my reflection. The gloss was slimy and sticky, but it made my lips look Angelina-plump.
My eyes were lined in my favorite midnight shadow, making their brown look richer.
"Ready?" she said.
"Sure." I flipped the vanity mirror shut and hopped out of the car.
We walked across the lawn to the large brick house. A lilting beat floated across the yard. I took a look down at my outfit—black skater dress, thin silver belt, flip-flops, thin silver scarf, and black over-the-elbow gloves—as my nerves started to reach an all-ti high.
I smoothed my skirt down and centered the knot on my scarf as my nerves rose.
If I could make it through the night without freaking out from so vision, then I had a chance at finding a place where I belonged—even if it wasn’t with Bella’s crowd.
Bella went straight for the door, and opened it without pausing to knock. I might have been a little bit naïve—it was my first party after all—but I wasn’t expecting everyone to be drinking.
Thirty kids or so were scattered around the entryway screaming at each other over the music. They all had red plastic cups in their hands.
How in the hell did a bunch of sixteen and seventeen year olds score enough booze for everyone?
I shook my head. So of those cups had to be filled with soda.
One girl gestured while talking, unaware that the contents of her cup were spilling all over the floor. A guy was falling all against a girl, who pushed him away.
Nope. They were drunk. Unreal.
Guess there were no parents here.
"Good. We’re perfectly late." Bella grabbed my gloved hand. "Let’s get a drink." She led through the crowd to the kitchen.
I spotted Jess as she rushed past , knocking into the wall. She ran to a powder room and slamd the door.
"Gross. She’s always sick before the party even gets started," Bella rolled her eyes. "She seriously needs to learn to control her alcohol."
No kidding. And from the looks of things, there were a few people who wouldn’t be far behind Jess’ state. I knew right then that I was in over my head. I thought about calling West, but was too stubborn to admit that I’d been wrong about telling him not to co.
Bella towed along with her to the kitchen. It was big with an island in the center. The counters were light speckled granite, but I couldn’t really see them under all the booze.
Liquor bottles and red cups, along with an assortnt of sodas and juices were spread all over the place. In front of the sink was an extra-large plastic trashcan filled with ice water and a keg floating in the center.
Three boys stood around it as they filled red cups and handed them down a line of kids.
I checked my watch. It wasn’t even 8:30 yet. How were there so many people already drunk?
Carlos was filling shot glasses on the counter with so amber colored liquor.
Right. That was how.
He looked up at . "Hey, Heather. Glad you could make it," he said with a grin. His dimples made him look more charming than he actually was.
He hadn’t said anything to Bella, and by the look she gave him, she was pissed. I so didn’t want to get in the middle of that.
"How about a proper welco to Texas? Take a shot of tequila."
Bella dropped my arm and stepped back. I glanced at her, and she shrugged. "Go ahead."
At that the other three boys who were lined up for a shot looked at . My palms started sweating. I’d never taken one. I’d never even had a drop of alcohol before. Would it make act stupid? Or worse—would my visions go crazy?
That was not appealing at all.
Finding a way to be normal was my goal here. I snatched the glass that Carlos held out for with my gloved hand.
"We take ’em Texas style here," he said.
I gave my best fake-confident smile. "Okay. What exactly does that an?"
"Here, let show you. Take off your glove."
There was no way I wanted to do that, but I’d already committed.
As soon as the glove was off, he grabbed my hand and, looking straight in the eye, licked it.
I was instantly drowning in his hormones.
Glimpses of half-dressed girls. Moans echoed in the backseat of his car. Flashes of wet skin.
As soon as he dropped my hand, I was back in my own body. I grabbed onto the counter as the dizziness faded. That was the fifth ti I’d been in the backseat of Carlos’ car this week, thankfully never in my own body. I made a promise to myself to keep it that way.
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