Finn chuckles whilst Logan continues to protest that he’s innocent.
I turn back to my locker.
“He was worried about you.” My gaze turns to Finn, who is looking at me intently. “He’s spent all week trying to figure out where you might be.”
I turn my back to him. I don’t need to answer to him, not when I’ve already apologised to Ethan.
I try to open my locker again, but it’s still not working. I can feel them all watching me, and I hate that I look like an idiot in front of them. “You need some help?” Logan asks, nodding towards the locker. “What’s your number?”
“7489.”
He grins and winks at me. “That’s not the number I meant.”
His friends chuckle around us, but Finn scowls over at him. “Dude,” he warns, “you know what Ethan said.”
What Ethan said…presumably warning all his friends off me before I even met them. He’s his father’s son all right, trying to control me. Maybe if I didn’t harbour a completely irrational flat-out hatred for this particular football team, I might have looked twice at them, but as it stands, I have no intention of going anywhere near them.
Logan shrugs. “I’m just joking,” he tells me, looking me up and down—again. “The things I could do to you,” he mutters, just loud enough for me to hear. I frown as Matty elbows him in the ribs and tells him to shut up.
Finn moves closer, and just when I’m about to tell him to back off, he opens my locker with ease. “It jams at the end,” he tells me quietly. “You just have to make sure you bang it once and it’ll work.”
I nod my head, pretending I don’t notice how close he’s stood to me.
“So turns out I need to move to London,” Logan starts.
I sigh and turn back to him. “And why is that?”
“Because if all girls from London look like you then I need to get my ass over there.”
God he’s boring. It takes me all of two seconds to decide what to do. There’s no way I’m dealing with this crap long-term. I turn to my locker, grab the notebook I shoved in there last week, and drop in my chemistry textbook. Then I turn back to Logan.
“Is this going to carry on?” I ask.
He frowns. “What?”
“You talking about the way I look.”
He smirks. “Babe, it’s not my fault you were carved by the gods.”
I almost burst out laughing at his cheesy line, wondering if that ever actually works on anyone—almost, but not quite.
“Okay, well I have some time right now,” I tell him, glancing down at my watch. “I don’t mind skipping English.” I step closer to him and see his eyes widen as he begins to understand what I’m saying. “There’s gotta be an empty bathroom around here somewhere, right?”
His jaw hits the floor.
“Or an empty room? Surely you know one?”
He stares back at me in amazement.
“What?” I ask, reaching out and stroking his arm with my index finger. “You don’t wanna go?”
He doesn’t say anything but snatches his arm back like I’ve burnt him whilst a huge grin spreads across Matty’s face and his other friends snicker.
I close my locker and take another step towards him. “I’m good at it,” I tell him quietly. It doesn’t matter that I’m being quiet, though—they’re all hanging off my every word. “Really good. I could make it real good for you too.”
He’s turned pale as I challenge him. He glances around, trying to think of a way out of this, but he doesn’t have anything he can say.
“Come on,” I cajole, staring him straight in the eye. “You can bang Ethan’s sister right now in the toilets before lunch.” I tilt my head to the side. “I might even let you put it in—”
“Whoa, whoa!” he shouts, covering his ears as his face burns bright red and someone across the hall starts coughing at my words. He looks away, shifting uneasily on his feet. “Sorry,” he eventually mutters. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I just think you’re pretty. I’ll stop. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”
“No more stupid bullshit about the way I look?”
He shakes his head, his face scarlet, and I sweep my eyes to the rest of his friends, making it very clear what I think about Logan’s little comments and hopefully letting them know I won’t accept that kind of thing from them either.
“You know, Izzy,” Matty starts, looking at me warmly. “I have this feeling things are about to get a whole lot more interesting around here.”
I ignore him, sending Logan one last glare as his friends laugh at him and turn to walk away. Just as I walk past Finn, he holds his right arm out, stopping me in my tracks. I turn to face him, expecting some sort of quip about the way I look or what I just said to Logan, but instead I find serious green eyes full of compassion. “I’m really sorry about your mom.”
It takes me ten minutes to find the cafeteria, but when I do, I walk in and immediately scan the room for Pippa, looking towards the table she told me she sits at.
Evie appears in front of me.
“Hi, Izzy! You’re here.”
“Not right now,” I tell her, brushing by and heading towards Pippa’s table. She glances up as I approach, and as I wave, she looks slightly surprised and smiles shyly.
“Hey,” I start, and I realise her whole table has fallen silent.
“Hey. I’m glad you came over. I actually think we have class together next.”
That’s news to me. I haven’t memorised my timetable yet.
“I saw your schedule when I gave you the tour,” she explains. “We have calculus after lunch.”
“Oh.” I didn’t make it to afternoon classes last week so I didn’t realise.
“You’re in AP calculus?” the mousy brunette at the end of the table demands. I look over at her for the first time, and she’s got a look of disbelief on her face.
“Sounds like it,” I reply testily, not having a clue what AP means. Either way, I don’t care. I don’t like her tone.
She lets out a noise of disbelief and goes back to reading her textbook.
Pippa clears her throat. “Um, these are my friends,” she tells me, indicating the people sat around the table. “Rachel,” she starts, pointing to the brunette, “Sarah, Samantha, Evan, Martin, and Paul.”
“Hey, I’m Izzy.” My eyes sweep around them as I smile politely and then settle on Paul. “Oh hey,” I say when I recognise the guy who drove me to school the first day I came. “How are you?”
He blushes bright red. “I’m good,” he manages to mumble.
“Are you still okay to drive me to and from school?” I ask him.
He nods, and relief washes over me. That’s one problem solved from now on.
“Brilliant. Do you want to swap numbers?”
It takes him a moment to register what I’m saying before he accepts my phone—which I’m holding out for him—and taps his number in. He passes it back to me, and I save it then ring him so he has mine. I smile at him and look up to see the rest of his friends staring at us agape. The only one who doesn’t look the least bit interested is the brunette, Rachel. She’s staring down at a math textbook and muttering equations to herself.
I turn to Pippa. “Can I borrow you for a second?” I ask, cocking my head away from the table.
She nods and stands up, following me a few steps away. “How do you know Paul?” she blurts out before I can ask my question.
“My dad’s housekeeper knows him. She asked him to give me a lift last week and he said he could do it from now on.”
Understanding crosses her face, and I swear there’s a little bit of relief too. I bite back a smile. Is she protective over Paul or is he another one of her crushes?
“Anyway, I wanted to know if you knew where I can score around here?”
She just looks back at me blankly.
“Pippa?”
“Score what?”
“Weed,” I tell her, as a starting point. “A spliff.”
Again, she doesn’t say anything, and I rack my brain. “I mean pot, dope, cannabis, a joint—whatever you call it over here.”
“Oh…” She gets what I mean now and her eyes widen. “I don’t…I’m sorry, I don’t…I mean I wouldn’t know.”
That’s not really surprising, but this is a high school. There’s definitely someplace I can find it. “Are there any stoners around here that you know? I can ask them.”
She still doesn’t say anything.
“Like, I dunno, skaters? They’d probably know.”
“Oh right. All the skaters hang out outside by the trees at the end of the field,” she tells me, and I know immediately that they’ll be able to help me. It’s sweet that Pippa hasn’t pieced together that the reason they all go down there at lunch is probably so they can smoke where the smell won’t drift.
“Thanks,” I tell her, turning to walk away.
“Wait, are you going now? We have class in ten minutes.”
“I’ll see you there.”
And then I turn towards the exit for the cafeteria, determined to find these guys. I might be back at school for now, but I definitely need something to take the edge off for later on tonight. It’s the only way I’m going to be able to get through the rest of the afternoon.
Marcus’s place is the busiest I’ve ever seen it. He’s rushed off his feet and has had to call in more staff in order to keep up with the demand. He’s arranged for a band to play in the corner, something way too country for my taste, and people are dancing and singing along. Drinks are flowing and the atmosphere screams party, but tonight it’s just not enough for me. Tonight I know I’ll need something more than just alcohol in order to numb my mind.
I can’t believe Ethan did that to me. I can’t believe he’s the reason Dad forced me to come here.
I’m sat with the redhead I met the first time I was in here—Leighton—and his buddies, and they’re suitably drunk enough to keep talking without needing me to say anything back. There’s a new guy who’s joined them today too, a guy called Danny who is covered in tattoos and has long, dark, floppy hair and pale blue eyes. Everything about him screams bad boy. He arrived with some of his friends an hour or so ago then promptly broke off from them to join Leighton, but Leighton’s not the reason he’s over here. Danny keeps staring at me. Every time I look his way, he already has his eyes on me and a smirk on his face. It’s not hard to see that I’m his target for the night. I think Marcus has noticed too, but it’s too busy for him to be able to do anything about it. Every now and then he’ll swing by to see if I need anything, and since Danny showed up, he’s been looking over more and more, looking over and scowling a hell of a lot more.
“Another drink!” Leighton shouts in Marcus’s direction, and Marcus finishes serving the drinks he’s making then comes over, glaring at Danny as he does.
He nods at Leighton’s order and retreats to pass around the beers. When he turns to me, his hand is empty, and he shakes his head. “I think you’re done.”
“Excuse me?”
He shrugs. “It’s busy, and you’ve been here a while. Time to go home.”
My jaw drops open. Whilst I’m certainly not sober, I’m nowhere near as drunk as I have been in this place. I can still think perfectly coherently, and I’m stable on my feet. I glance down at my phone…it’s not even 11pm yet. There’s no way I’m going home. “I’m fine, thanks.”
He shakes his head. “You can head upstairs and wait for me there if you want, but you’re done sitting and drinking down here.”
“Boss!” one of his staff shouts at him from the other end of the bar. He has the fridge open and is scanning the contents. “I think we’re out of wine.”
Marcus rolls his eyes. “Go upstairs,” he tells me before turning and heading over to the fridges.
“I guess you’re done, Izzy,” Leighton says.
I just stare back at him, the rage inside me bubbling up and threatening to break out in a scream so loud the whole damn town will hear it. How dare he think he can tell me what to do? Why does everyone think they can make decisions for me? “Where’s the nearest bar to here?”
Danny’s eyes find mine. “I know just the place.”
I nod and grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. “Let’s go.”
A wide smirk crosses his face as he stands and rounds his stool, his hand finding the small of my back as he leads me out. The group of friends he arrived with are stood by the door and they catcall and make snide remarks as we pass, but I don’t care about that, and I especially don’t care that when I turn around to look back, Marcus is standing behind the bar, a glass in hand, looking for all the world like I’ve just betrayed him.
We pull into the car park of a bar about ten minutes away, and the sight of the bouncer at the door immediately makes me nervous. Please let me pass for twenty-one. Danny looks over at me and turns down the music playing on the radio.
“You’re so hot—”
“Don’t. I don’t need you to say that.”
He looks surprised, but I’m not about to explain that he won’t need to compliment me in order for me to sleep with him, not tonight. He’s a willing body, and sometimes that’s all I need to forget.
Ethan’s the reason I’m stuck here so far away from home. He’s the reason I’m out here all alone.
There’s silence between us for a couple of minutes whilst he tries to figure me out, and I wait for him to catch on.
It doesn’t take that long. “You know, we can go in here…”
I raise an eyebrow as his voice trails off. “Or?”
“Or we could go back to my place to keep the party going.”
I look back towards the entrance to the bar and bite my lip. I definitely don’t want the night to be over, but I know that bouncer is not going to make it as easy as it is for me at Marcus’s place. “Do you have booze?”
He grins. “I do.”
“And what else do you have?”
He stares at me, his eyes scanning all over my body, lingering on my chest and then travelling up to my face. “I have condoms.”
I roll my eyes. It’s a good job I’m not fussy or I’d definitely be walking away from him right now. “I mean something stronger than alcohol.” I must be feeling bad if I’m considering drugs tonight.
He looks surprised for a second, like he can’t decide whether I’m being serious or not. “Do you have cash?”
I nod, pull some of the notes Ethan gave me out of my bag, and hand them over to him without a word. He tells me to wait in the truck and disappears inside the bar after quietly talking to the bouncer. He’s back five minutes later with a smirk on his face and the look in his eye of someone who’s about to get what he’s spent all night waiting for.
“Got it?”
It was too much for you in London. You were a complete mess.
He holds out a small packet of white powder.
You were a complete mess.
I don’t even hesitate. I empty a small amount onto my bag, using it as table, and snort it up my nose without a second thought.
Danny looks at me with wide, surprised eyes but straightens his face when he catches me looking.
“Ready?” I ask.
He smiles back at me. “Oh babe…you have no idea.”
I feel like utter death when I wake up in my bed the next day. After heading back to Danny’s, I drank far too much straight tequila, and then Danny and I started fooling around, only it didn’t exactly go to plan when he couldn’t take it past the beginning stages and then got all pissed and smashed a lamp. At that, his mum came rushing in to see what the noise was and saw us half naked in his bed. I wasn’t so out of it that I wasn’t mortified.
That was my cue to leave, and even though his mum was insisting I stay in the spare room as it was the Christian thing to do, all I wanted to do was get out of there.
A gentleman would have offered to drive me home, but I knew Danny wasn’t a gentleman when I left with him.
It must have taken me at least an hour to get home—I don’t actually know what time it was because I lost my phone—and I got back to my house just as the sun was coming up.
I can’t believe I thought it was a good idea to leave with Danny last night and take drugs. That was pretty stupid, even for me.
I press my fingers to my temples, hoping the pressure will ease the pain I feel, but it’s no good.
Water. I need water.
I slowly sit up in bed and swing my legs over, looking at the pile of clothes on the floor. They stink of alcohol. I must have spilled some on them, and apparently I didn’t even want to keep my underwear on because I stripped totally naked.
I stand, make my way to my chest of drawers, and pull it open. There’s not much in there as Maria’s taken it upon herself to wash my clothes—even when I’ve not worn them—so I grab an old white tank top and some underwear and quickly pull them on before stumbling out of my room and carefully making my way down the stairs. Every sudden movement feels like a hammer has slammed into my brain, and I take each step one at a time before coming to the mirror at the bottom of the stairs and catching sight of my reflection.
It’s not pretty. My hair resembles a lion’s mane, and my eyes have dark circles underneath them. I look like I’ve just crawled out of a pit. I guess I have in a way.
I let out a deep breath and turn to the kitchen, lifting my fingers to my temples and again trying to massage away the pain. I’m so distracted by the effort it takes to move in this state that I register too late the noise coming from the kitchen.
“Holy crap.”
My head snaps up at the words and I swallow hard.
Shittttttttttttt.
The kitchen isn’t empty. Nope—it’s full of at least ten guys, most of whom I recognise as friends of Ethan’s who he sits with at lunch, and they’re all staring straight at me.
In my underwear.
In the kitchen.
I don’t know what to say, and apparently neither do they as they just stare at me in silence, some with their mouths hanging open, whilst I try not to die of embarrassment.
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