Page 152 of Stormbreaker

The decor evokes the sensation of dreaming, with sleek white floors, walls, and fluffy white clouds suspended from the ceiling. People wearing white underwear and translucent gossamer scraps sport feathered wings and weave through the crowd with crystal drink trays propped on their hands.

At the far end of the room is a giant mirror, bordered by more carved marble and covered in dozens of glass shelves, holding a hundred different types of jewel-toned liquors. The long crystal bar stretches across the room, where a line of muscled, half-naked men mix drinks.

Domino squeezes my arm and squeals with delight; her excitement is infectious. This is exactly what I needed—no more hiding and moping in my room. The point of going to Amery was to enjoy being young before the responsibilities of adulthood weighed us down.

“Drinks first!” Journey announces, taking my hand and dragging me into the crowd. Domino grasps my other side, and we weave through the gaps, approaching the bar. A cute bartender spies us and winks as he approaches.

“What will it be, ladies?” he asks, flashing us a bright grin.

“Something yummy!” Journey announces, and he nods before he begins picking up various bottles and dumping ingredients into a golden shaker. We all enjoy the view of his shirtless torso as his muscles bunch and contract while he moves.

When he’s done, he pours three pale pink cocktails into cut glass tumblers and garnishes each with a puff of cotton candy. “A Sweet Dream,” he says, passing the drinks over.

We toast and take a sip. It’s sweet and light, and I can already tell I could drink a lot of these before I feel the effects. But I don’t care. I’m tired of being responsible and worried about everything, and I want to let go for one night.

“Time to dance!” I shout, and we head for the floor, where we lose ourselves in the sea of people. Over the next hour, we spend our time singing to the music and swaying with the crowd.

At some point, I spot Knox with Jackson and Sal, along with Winter and some other members of their friend group. Knox and I haven’t spoken in months, not since the night of the pledging ceremony, when my parents publicly dropped me from their lives.

He stands with an elbow on the bar, drinking a beer, a scowl on his face. Winter is next to him, looking uncertain and obviously trying to draw him into conversation. He scans the crowd, and I feel the moment he spots me. Our eyes meet, and it’s like I’ve just been shoved against a hard corner.

Suddenly, I don’t feel very well.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I shout to Domino, who nods. Then I turn in the opposite direction of Knox, weaving toward a hallway. I enter the bathroom to a haze of perfume and conversation, where a dozen girls sit on the plush settees while touching up their makeup and hair.

I head to a sink and inspect my face before wetting a towel and pressing it to my reddened cheeks. Then I find an empty spot and sit, trying to shake off the remnants of Knox’s presence. I hate that he affects me at all. I want to be free of this. Don a cloak of indifference and shield myself from every moment of hurt he caused.

Maybe someday I’ll get there.

When I’ve stopped shaking and cooled down a few degrees, I decide the night is young and Knox isn’t ruining my fun.

Unfortunately, when I open the door, he’s waiting in the hall.

I wordlessly study him as he unfolds himself from where he’s leaning.

“Hey, can we talk?” he asks, gesturing to a room with low tables and couches. When I hesitate, he adds, “Just for a minute. Please.”

I don’t want to go anywhere with him, but if I don’t, he’ll probably just bother me until I agree. So I nod and follow him into the quieter space. The floor vibrates with thumping music, but we can talk without having to shout.

We find a table and settle side by side on a white couch that runs along the wall. A waitress appears, and I order another drink, because something tells me I’ll need one for this conversation. In fact, I consider ordering two.

When she leaves, I turn to study Knox’s profile. He’s staring at the room with one arm slung over the bench and his jaw tight.

“So?” I ask, hoping to get this over with. “What’s up?”

He glances at me. “How are you doing?”

I shrug and shake my head. “I’m okay. It’s been rough, but I’m managing.”

His eyes flick over me before he returns to surveying the room.

“Knox, is there something you want? I really need to get back to my friends.”

“Your friends?” he asks. “Do you have friends in Aria?”

His tone isn’t pointed but rather curious, yet I bristle at the question regardless. “I do.”

“Cogs,” he says, somewhat dismissively.