by Rachel Jonas
Her face scrunches up and she shakes her head wildly, trying to get the taste out of her mouth. Sorry to say it, but it’ll be sometime tomorrow when she’s finally free from it.
“Sip and pass,” Marcus instructs, handing the cup over to Dane next.
He reacts pretty much the same as Southside before I take a swig and give it to Sterling.
The stuff’s always awful, but this year … something tastes even more off than usual. I watch as others go in on it, but no one else seems to notice, so I figure it must just be me.
A second later, the music kicks up again and the chalice is already making its second round. Marcus is keeping an eye out for when it’ll need another refill, which won’t be long.
Joss bobs over, perfectly sober tonight. From what Dane told us, she got in pretty big trouble after Homecoming. My brother, the hero, was fully prepared to take the heat—despite having nothing to do with how much she drank that night—but Joss wouldn’t hear of it. Possibly because we all know how much her dad hates him already.
Which isn’t an overstatement at all. Judge Francois would skin my brother alive if given the chance. In his eyes, Dane’s nothing but a self-absorbed pretty boy with nothing going for him, and I’m guessing he sees how he stares at his daughter. Still, the judge is only half right.
Dane would definitely kiss his own ass if he could, but the kid’s going places.
“I feel like dancing,” Joss announces.
Recalling the stunt Dane pulled at Homecoming, it’s the perfect opportunity to get him back. So, I take Joss’s hand before he has the chance.
“Know what? Me, too,” I announce, cock-blocking Dane about as thoroughly as Parker did to me a little while ago.
Joss doesn’t think twice about getting out there with me, and I hope Dane feels the burn. The same burn I felt in the center of my chest when he thought it was a good idea to grind all over Southside’s ass. Granted, I’d never touch Joss like that, but he could still sit this one out, wishing it was him instead of me.
Not so funny now is it, dickhead?
Joss is vibing out, getting into the song and I’m only halfway there, because I’m on the hunt again. Like always. Hoping to catch a glimpse of the one girl I should never want as badly as I do.
I spot her and it seems she’s already feeling the effects of Marcus’s Monster Mix. She lowers into a seat and I recall my first taste of that shit. It hit me pretty much the same way.
“Uh-oh,” Joss says, nodding to my left where Parker’s storming toward me. “That’s my cue to move it along. I don’t do crazy. Later.”
I wish I could make a run for it, too, but Parker’s like a heat-seeking missile when it comes to me. There’s no place to hide.
Not even in a mausoleum, apparently.
“We need to talk,” she demands, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder. I hadn’t gotten a good look before now, but that little number she’s wearing is thinner than I realized.
I only follow her to the tree line so she doesn’t make a scene.
“What?” I ask flatly, already wanting more space between us.
She flashes an incredulous look my way. “Are you kidding me, West? What the hell was that I walked in on? One minute you’re giving me and the girls carte blanche to terrorize this bitch, then I catch you with your dick in her hand? I mean, I know you’ll screw anything that moves, but she is way, way beneath you,” she insists. “You have to know that.”
My brow twitches with curiosity.
“Wait … you don’t realize that … you’re beneath me?”
The question has her mouth gaping open for a moment, but in true Parker Holiday fashion, she rebounds quickly.
“Don’t be an ass West.” She scolds me, then, which only encourages me to be even more of a dick.
“Ah, I see what happened. You’re confused because I fucked you,” I say with a grin. “Guess this mistake is right up there with you thinking that opening your legs for me will eventually lead to me feeling something for you.” As my smirk turns into laughter, I feel an adrenaline rush coming on. “You really are a fucking idiot, aren’t you?”
Even with what little light there is, I see her face turning redder by the second.
“You are such a dick,” she scoffs.
I shrug. “I’m a dick and you give terrible head,” I shoot back. “Honestly, you should consider taking pointers from some of your friends. Especially Ariana. I taught her well. Girl listened to every pointer I’ve ever given her.”
I see tears and my heart beats faster.
Cry for me, bitch. I love that shit.
She’s wounded and can’t hide it. My words cut her deep and there’s nothing I want to take back. Not a single thing.
Shaking her head, Parker backs off and relief sweeps over me. For too long, I’ve let her cling to me because I enjoyed the added benefits. Problem is, now, I’ve lost every bit of interest I ever had in the girl.
And with this one conversation, she knows.
Her thin arms cross tightly over her chest and I see more tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. She walked in on me about to go balls-deep inside another girl, and it took this, me spelling out that I don’t want her, for the message to get through.
Just as quickly as the emotion flashes in her eyes, it’s gone again, and she nods.
“If that’s the way you want this to end, fine. I’m good with that,” she lies. I could call her out on it, but don’t welcome the extra conversation that would result.
“It’s for the best,” I add, reciting bull I’ve heard in the movies. Maybe it’ll help her get over it.
She’s starting to walk away, but not without looking me in the eyes again.
“Before you sever ties, ask yourself if your secrets are really as secret as you think,” she warns.
With how confidently she just spoke, it makes me wonder if she knows, but that’s impossible. Still, the reminder that there’s info out there that could ruin me makes my stomach clench in a knot.
“Cut me off and I won’t protect you, West. And, who knows?” she adds with a grin. “I might just be the one who eventually sets your whole world on fire.”
She’s grasping at straws. Has to be. I’ve been more than careful and those who know would never expose me. She tried, but that cryptic shit falls short of working.
“It’s over, Parker. You should go before you make yourself look even more pathetic,” is my parting advice.
“If you say so,” she replies with a smile.
As much as I hate to even consider that she might have found me out, I’ll keep an eye on her. According to my grandfather, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
@QweenPandora: It seems PrincessParker’s girls were called in to console her. Rumor is, the cemetery was the perfect place for her dealings with KingMidas to finally be laid to rest. My guess is that things are really starting to heat up with NewGirl, which means this is likely the end of PrincessParker’s reign. It was fun while it lasted, I guess. Well, lovelies, it seems The Beatles aren’t the only thing Hurricane Yoko blew apart.
Later, Peeps!
—P
Chapter 32
WEST
For the past ten minutes now, I’ve watched her just sit there, doubled over with both arms folded across her stomach. With every second, I feel myself being drawn over there but hold back.
She’s not my responsibility and I’m not about to let her think she’s my responsibility.
Still, I notice something seems off.
It’s when Dane elbows me to get my attention that I realize I’m not exactly being discreet.
“Dude, just go talk to the girl,” he suggests, calling attention to what I’ve tried to keep to myself—that I’m aware of her. All the time.
“I don’t want to talk to her,” I clarify. “She just doesn’t look right.”
I feel my posture stiffen, feel the tension in my shoulders. And then, seconds before I give in and walk my stubborn ass over
there, she starts to slip out of her seat.
Some kid notices and catches her head right before it hits the grass, but I’m already sprinting that way, hurdling headstones and shoving aside anyone who’s in my way.
“Move!” I shout, causing the crowd to scatter.
The kid who caught her backs away, too, lifting his hands into the air. “I didn’t do anything, man. I swear. She just started sliding out of the chair.”
I don’t have time to tell him I already know that, so I ignore him instead, because I don’t understand what I’m seeing. I thought she was just wasted, but her lips are blue, and her face and neck are covered in small, red hives. Leaning in, I hear a faint hiss and I go straight in to panic mode, realizing the sound is her wheezing because she’s hardly getting any air.
“Rodriguez!” I yell out, prompting someone to nudge her drunk ass back to consciousness, hoping she knows what’s wrong, but it doesn’t work. She can barely open her eyes, which makes her completely useless to me right now.
I push my arms beneath Southside and hoist her up from the grass, carrying her lifeless body against mine. Before I can even think of what to do next, I haul ass down the hill, headed toward my car.
“What happened?” Sterling asks, chasing after me.
“I don’t know, but she’s barely breathing. Looks like some kind of allergic reaction maybe?”
I hear the panic in my voice, and I know whoever else is trailing me hears it, too. But fuck it. I care about the girl. Even despite myself … I care about her.
We leave the dim light of the party behind and rush into the pitch-black woods beyond it. I’m going completely off memory at this point, knowing I don’t have any time to spare.
Something’s terribly wrong with her, something more than that drink going to her head. At this point, a doctor is the only one who can help.
Moonlight glints off the roof of my car and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Someone get the door,” I yell, which sends Joss running ahead to open the back one.
Sterling helps me slide Southside in and he takes my keys when I pass them to him.
“You’ll have to drive. I need to keep an eye on her, make sure she keeps breathing.”
He nods and I turn to Dane next.
“Stay here with Joss. She shouldn’t walk back up there by herself in the dark.”
He responds the same as Sterling, nodding once. “Text as soon as you have an update.”
I assure him I will, then the next thing I know, Sterling’s driving like a bat out of hell.
I’ve got Southside in my arms and she’s getting worse. I pat her down for pockets, hoping to find meds or one of those EpiPen things for situations like this, but all I find is her phone. Grabbing it, I tap the screen to light it up, but its password protected, which means I can’t even get in touch with her family.
I’m screwed.
The one thing I can do while Sterling barrels toward the hospital is harass the one I know is responsible for this.
“What the fuck did you do?” My voice is way too calm, and when I hear the fear in hers, I know I’m not wrong.
“I—I didn’t think she’d react like this,” Parker stammers. “I—”
“Tell me what the fuck you did so I can at least tell the doctors what she had!” The words ricochet off the windows of the car, but still, Southside doesn’t move an inch. She’s out.
Completely.
“Heidi went through her file,” Parker admits. “She helps out in the office during her free period, so … I thought we’d get some info to use against her. You know, personal shit,” she explains. “But when I saw the note about a peanut allergy, I thought I’d have a little fun with her. That’s all,” she adds, pleading her case.
“Have fun with her?” I growl.
Parker’s sobbing on the other end of the line and I want to reach through the phone and strangle her.
“I … slipped a little peanut sauce into the Monster Mix,” she admits, causing me to squeeze my phone until it creaks in my hand. “My cousin’s allergic, too. And when she has a reaction, it just makes her lips and eyes swell. I mean, she looks terrible, but nothing else happens,” Parker explains. “I thought this would be the same. I didn’t think…”
“You—” A frustrated growl leaves my mouth when nothing else will.
I hang up because I can’t take another second of this bitch’s rambling. The only thing that’s come of this is that I now know what caused the reaction.
I’m also now aware of the measure of Parker Holiday’s stupidity.
And that shit is off the charts.
I told Sterling to take off once Southside was stable. I plan to call for a ride when I’m ready to go, but I don’t expect that to be anytime soon.
It shouldn’t jumpstart my heart the way it does when she finally comes to, but I’m on my feet and at her side. At first, I reach to grab her hand, but catch myself just in time, shoving them both inside my pockets instead.
Southside blinks a few times and then reaches for her head with a groan.
“Are you okay?”
It takes her a second to get her bearings, and then she settles her confused gaze on me. “Where am I?”
That inkling to take her hand is back again. And I resist it again.
“You’re at the hospital,” I say. “You had an allergic reaction to something you ate.”
I don’t give a shit about protecting Parker, but can’t shake the warning she gave at the cemetery. I know that, if it gets out what she’s done, the girl would sing like a canary, giving up every detail of whatever she might know. Do I believe she actually has something on me? Not quite. But are the stakes too high if she does? Completely.
“My head,” Southside moans, letting her eyes fall closed again.
“Are you up to speaking with the doctors? They have a few questions they wanted to ask once you woke up.”
It’s still taking some getting used to, speaking to one another without there being venom in our words.
She nods. “Sure. I can do that.”
I leave her for only long enough to stop at the nurse’s station, then I’m back in the room, standing at her bedside like a dutiful boyfriend.
Dude, what the fuck are you doing?
I check my behavior and go back to the chair in the corner instead.
“Ms. Riley?” Dr. Turner says when he enters the room.
Southside offers a faint smile and sits up a little. “Hi.”
“You gave us quite a scare,” he adds with a smile. “Any idea what you ate that did this to you?”
I glance toward Southside and she’s clearly confused. “No. I’m usually pretty careful, but … I must not have been tonight.”
When she goes quiet, Dr. Turner nods. “Well, we got some epinephrine into your system as soon as this kind, young gentlemen rushed you into ER. His quick action likely saved your life tonight.”
Southside turns toward me, offering a tight smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. My guess is it’s weird hearing someone use any of those words to describe me. I’d have to agree with her on that.
“No EpiPen?” the doctor asks.
“I keep one in my purse, but I left it in a friend’s car. Guess I thought I knew what foods to avoid,” she explains.
“Sometimes these things can sneak up on you, which is why you never want to assume, understood?” he asks in a stern, and yet caring, voice.
Southside nods. “Understood.”
Dr. Turner flips through his chart again. “I’d like to get your parents’ contact information, so I can give them a call and let them know what’s going on with you.”
He clicks his pen expectantly, but Southside doesn’t say a word. There are a good five seconds that pass until she finally speaks.
“They’re … unavailable.”
Dr. Turner’s brow tenses. “Unavailable?”
Southside nods. “Well, my dad’s home, but he’s pretty sick. And my mom’s out of
town. On business,” she rushes to add.
If by home ‘sick’ she means drunk off his ass, then that statement about her dad is completely true. And based on what Sterling said about the call he overheard from her mom, I gather ‘unavailable’ is the best word to describe things.
Dr. Turner closes his chart and keeps his eyes trained on Southside.
“Well, you’re eighteen,” he says flatly, breathing a heavy sigh. “I’m not obligated to reach out to a guardian, but I’d like to keep an eye on you tonight. Might want to at least give your loved ones a call so they aren’t worried.”
With those words, he leaves us.
We’re plunged into awkward silence and I’m reminded again that this is out of our element. We haven’t called each other cruel names or tried to ruin each other’s lives in a few hours, so things definitely feel like they’re shifting.
“I thought you might need me to see you home,” I say, regretting my choice of words right away. It sounds like something a guy would say to a girl who belongs to him. Southside isn’t mine.
Clearing my throat, I start again. “If they’re keeping you, I can go,” I offer.
For all I know, she’d prefer to be alone versus having me hang around. Besides, it isn’t like I don’t have other things I can be doing.
“No, stay.” She responds a little too quickly for it to seem casual. When her gaze slips from mine, I imagine she realizes this, too. “It’s just that hospitals have always given me the creeps.”
She moves her braid behind her shoulder, and I smile thinking about her costume, topped off with a black wig now balled in a bag with the rest of the getup. Most girls live for this time of year, to get dolled up and show off their goods, but Southside could’ve shown up in a potato sack and would’ve been the hottest girl at the party tonight. I mean, I’m not complaining about the minidress or anything, but she doesn’t need all that. Jeans and a t-shirt, no makeup. I’ll take her as is.
‘You’ll take her as—’
What the fuck, man?
Cut that shit out!
You’re doing it again. You know what she’s about. You know what she did. Even if she claims there was only ever that Ricky guy. Even if you see her life’s shitty and understand why she could have possibly attached herself to someone like Vin—a predator. Nothing’s changed.
