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I roll my hips, moving my arms and bouncing on my feet, and as I twist my head side to side with the beat, I see her.
I think I see her.
I keep going, back and forth, blood rushing to my head as I take more of her in every time I turn right. It’s her. Sitting on a pile of crates and leaning against the wall, her head tipped back, one arm hanging over her bent knee, and the other leg dangling over the side.
Dressed in black jeans with holes in the knees and a white tank top, a flannel tied around her waist.
She watches me. Her eyes are shrouded, but under the cover of shadow, I know she’s watching me.
And immediately I know that I can’t even fool myself. I’m not in control.
She has my heart in her fist.
I dance for her, my hand grazing between my legs and across the sliver of visible bare skin between my shirt and my skirt. Reminding her of what I felt like. Of who loves her good.
Arms slide around me, lazy but invasive, his finger slipping under the waist of my skirt and touching my skin. Callum presses himself into my back, and I watch Liv, knowing she’s watching me. Watching us. Under the shadow of the speaker above her. Under her black lashes and dark eyes that could’ve been closed, but I know they’re open. I know she’s watching. Her hand hangs over her knee, her thumb calmly and steadily grinding back and forth in her fist.
And I don’t stop him.
Callum moves, bringing me with him as his hand creeps up my torso. His lips graze a line up my neck, and Liv still doesn’t move, digging her thumb into her fist back and forth, over and over, her gaze still hidden under the cover of darkness.
Krisjen spills out of the crowd, laughing with her drink sloshing and spilling over the rim of her cup. I reach out to grab her, Callum’s hands falling away, and I break into a smile as I steady her. She looks like she’s having fun. More fun than I’ve seen her have in a long time.
She shoves the drink in my hand and wraps her arms around me. “I love you!”
I shake with a laugh. “I’ll bet you even love Amy right now, don’t you?”
“Huh?” she shouts over the music.
Whatever. “Nothing!” I shout, drinking down a couple gulps of her beer as “Fuqboi” comes over the speakers.
Krisjen gasps, excited, and starts bouncing, because right now she loves this song, too. Belting out the lyrics, she takes my hand as I turn, tossing the cup into the trash, and she pulls me to the center of the room, everyone dancing around us. The chorus starts, Callum is forgotten, and Krisjen grabs hold of me, her arms hanging over my shoulders as she starts to dance. She rolls her hips, slow at first and then faster, and I only hesitate a moment, thankful that someone saved me from him. Even though I think it was working at making Liv jealous.
I join in, both of us swaying and dancing, smiling and laughing as the music belts out, filling up the room. We move into each other, and I can only imagine Callum is somewhere off to the side, enjoying the view. Krisjen puts her hands on my waist, the lyrics making us laugh, but she sings with it, almost shouting in anger.
She rocks her arms behind her, back and forth, and I don’t know if it’s intentional, but she brushes up on me. Again and again, her chest meets mine. I let my eyes fall, her breasts like half peaches, poking through her thin top. The dark outline of her small nipples shows through as her hair brushes my lips.
I dart my eyes to Liv.
Her thumb has stopped grinding.
She doesn’t move.
She sits there, and I grab onto Krisjen, our legs threaded as we dance. The heat of Liv’s eyes travels over the band of bare skin between my tank top and skirt, watching me move, and maybe she’s remembering exactly what I feel like under these clothes.
And that maybe Callum isn’t a threat. Another girl will eventually want me.
But when I look back, Liv is gone. Krisjen moves into me as sweat trickles down my back. I twist my neck left and right. Where is she?
Where did she go?
And then I tip my head up, seeing her climb the spiral staircase. A girl holds her hand, pulling Liv after her, but it’s not Martelle.
What the fuck? I stop. Who is that now?
They disappear around the curve of the stairs until I can’t see them anymore, and my stomach sinks.
“Whoo!” Krisjen squeals, oblivious.
But I fall away from her, stepping back and watching the stairs. How many girls did she have? She thinks she can just move on? She thinks I’m disposable? Replaceable?
