Page 15 of Unleashed By Eden

“Happy birthday, Violet!” Cindy Winters comes bouncing into my path, bringing with her the scent of expensive perfume and hairspray. “You look soooo pretty,” she squeals, dragging out the word as if she’s talking to a five-year-old in a tiara. She probably tagged along with someone who actually got an invite. The only reason she’s here is the painfully obvious crush she has on Carter.

“Thanks.” I manage a smile that hurts my cheeks and fight the urge to bare my teeth at her.

“Did your mom buy that dress for you?” she asks, head tipped.

“Yeah, of course she did. Who else would?” I shrug.

Jeanine didn’t exactly buy it so much as put it on her already maxed-out credit card and sigh dramatically about making sacrifices, but Cindy doesn’t need that detail. It’s not like she bought her designer jeans herself. Mommy and Daddy bankroll her wardrobe.

“Huh,” she says, like I’ve just shared a fascinating piece of data, then turns when someone calls her name.

I roll my eyes so hard it almost hurts. “Idiot,” I mutter, slipping past her and beelining to the makeshift bar we set up on the sideboard.

I need a drink. Something strong enough to drown out the humiliation clawing at the back of my throat.

I grab a red plastic cup, unscrew the bottle of vodka Jeanine left out with a “do not go too crazy” warning that everyone obviously ignored given it’s already half empty, and pour a generous amount. I splash in a little orange juice, more for color than taste. The first sip burns all the way down, and I almost gag, eyes watering, but it settles into a warm, heavy curl in my stomach. There’s this tiny rush of bravery that comes with it.

My eyes swing across the room and settle on Carter. He’s on the couch, guitar resting across his lap, fingers moving absently over the strings as he picks out some lazy melody under the music from the speakers. Cindy and another girl I don’t recognize are pressed in on either side of him, angled toward him and hanging off every word. She traces the outline of the new ink on his forearm, and he flashes that lopsided grin, the one that makes my heart flutter and ache all at once.

Of course he already has an audience.

And apparently, he’s perfectly happy giving Cindy the time of day. I tighten my grip on the cup until the plastic crumples and hover on the edge of the crowd, watching him from behind a tall guy. If I could just talk to him properly, get through one normal conversation without tripping over my tongue or saying something stupid, maybe tonight won’t be a total disaster.

The vodka haze helps. I toss back another mouthful and start to weave my way toward the couch, carefully skirting around couples and clusters of people.

I’m three steps away when laughter explodes from the couch.

“Isn’t Violet, like, obsessed with you?” Cindy asks. “It’s kind of sad, really.”

I stop dead. My stomach drops right out of my body. They haven’t seen me. I’m half behind a random girl now, apparently invisible unless someone needs a punchline.

“She’s just a kid,” Carter says, chuckling. “As if.”

His words make my eyes water more than the vodka.

Just a kid. As if.

That’s it. That’s all I am to him. I’ve spent years memorizing the way his hands move on a guitar and every version of his smile. But all he sees is Liam’s little sister in a stupid girly dress, playing grown-up for the night and failing spectacularly.

My vision blurs. I turn before anyone can see my face melt and walk, fast, trying not to run up the stairs. Each step makes the lump in my throat swell until it’s hard to breathe. By the time I reach my room, the dam bursts.

I slam the door, throw myself onto the bed, and bury my face in the pillow. The tears come hot and messy, soaking through the thin fabric of the pillowcase, and I hate myself for thinking tonight could have been different.

Why did I even try?

“Vi?” Liam’s voice is tentative through the door.

“Go away,” I croak into the pillow.

The door creaks anyway, and the mattress dips a second later as he sits down. “You okay?”

I flip onto my back and scrub at my face with my hands. “I’m fine.”

He looks down at his hands for a moment, fingers picking at a loose thread on his jeans. “Did something happen?”

I swallow and shrug, mouth twisting. I’m not telling him Carter’s exact words. That humiliation is mine. “I just . . . hate this,” I say instead. “I hate being invisible.”

Liam exhales slowly. “Vi, you don’t need to change who you are for anyone,” he says. “Definitely not for those assholes downstairs. Nobody is worth that.”