A tall guy with sun-bleached hair jogged toward us from the firelight, grin wide and familiar, like they’d known each other forever.
Riley’s friend.
Which meant…
More were watching.
More would come over.
More would look at me.
Judge me.
Decide who I was before school even started.
Panic threatened to spike, but I straightened my spine, lifted my chin a fraction, and forced a calm I absolutely did not feel.
I could not,would not, look weak in front of them.
Not Riley.
Not his friends.
Not anyone.
Weakness was ammunition, and people like this, beautiful, confident, effortless people, knew exactly how to use it.
Riley’s friend skidded to a stop in front of him, eyes flicking to me with open curiosity, like I was an unexpected plot twist.
Riley didn’t introduce me.
Of course he didn’t.
He just let the silence hang, testing me.
Fine.
If they were expecting some shy, overwhelmed nobody…
They were going to be disappointed.
The guy’s grin widened as he pulled Riley into one of those half-hug, half-shoulder-bump greetings boys seemed to communicate entire conversations with.
“Dude, where the hell have you been? Everyone thought you bailed—“ Then his eyes slid to me again.
And stayed there.
“Oh,” he said, eyebrows lifting, interest sharpening. “You brought someone.”
I felt Riley’s gaze on me before I even turned my head. It was like standing under a spotlight, warm, heavy, impossible to ignore. He wasn’t looking at his friend. He wasn’t focused on the party.
He was watchingme.
Waiting.
Measuring.
The friend nodded at me, easy and curious. “Hey. I’m Jake.”
