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At least I got my answer.
This was a colossal mistake.
Reclining against the wall with my arms crossed over my chest, I watch Zoey down her rum and Coke like it’s a chugging co
ntest. A few hours into the party, I asked her if she thought I was a control freak—guess Will got under my skin with his stupid nickname—which resulted in her asking me why I wanted to know, which led to me telling her all about Will’s newfound passion: annoying me.
“Well, he can call me a control freak any day,” she blurts out, fanning herself with her right hand. I wince, tracking her gaze to Will and Alex destroying a jock at beer pong across the room.
“Jesus, Zoey. Could you be any louder?” I hiss.
“I’m sure he could make you louder.” She winks theatrically.
I stifle a chuckle.
“You’re going to hell, girl, you know that?”
“Can’t wait,” she squeals. “So, how’s that rebound going?”
“What rebound?” I try a sip of my drink and shiver in disgust. This rum and Coke is 98 percent rum, 2 percent Coke at best.
“Don’t play dumb. Blake was drooling all over your cousin when you got here. Only one thing left to do. Hottie Blondie’s right there for the taking,” she teases.
I cringe. God, even Zoey noticed? How heartless can Blake possibly be? With my own cousin? We just broke up.
I’m not saying I want him to die, but I would probably clap if he did.
“He has a name, you know? It’s Will.”
“Will as in… Will you take him home tonight?”
I can’t suppress a grin.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“So I’ve been told.” She gulps down her drink. “Oh, well, if you’re not down for a rebound, I am. Mama needs her sugar.” She begins to wander off, glancing back at me over her shoulder. “I’m keeping my hands off Hottie Blondie for now because he’s the perfect revenge fuck for you, but my offer might expire soon. Just saying.”
She’s gone before I can blink. That’s her thing. Leaving me alone at a party and only popping back up when we’re leaving. Bad friend move, I know. But I couldn’t be mad at her if I tried. I’ve known Zoey since I was four. She means nothing by it. I don’t even think she’s aware that she’s ditching me. That’s just who she is.
I reflect on her rebound obsession. Who decided it’d be a good idea to invite their heartbroken friend to a party? This dumbass. Technically, I didn’t have to invite her because the whole school knows about Bianca’s party, but she only decided to go when I texted her I’d be there.
As for Morgan, she doesn’t do parties. Said she’d rather stay home and read. I have to agree with her on this one. I saw a guy throw up into a plant earlier, and that’s making me wonder why I showed up.
I lumber around the party, eyelids growing heavier with each reluctant step, and check my phone. Eleven thirty—I’m usually in bed by now. Time elapses at a painfully slow pace. I drink alone for twenty minutes, watch wasted people play spin the bottle for thirty. God, I’m bored. An hour and a half later, I wonder if I should call it a night.
“Kass, finally.”
His voice is my answer.
I should’ve called it a night hours ago.
I swivel around, anger simmering beneath my skin.
“What do you want, Blake?”
“Have you seen Winter?”
Are you fucking kidding me?
