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"His parents’ place?" I ask as he slowly moves forward.
"One of them, but his parents don’t live here. He and the rest of the Electi do."
The Electi?
I roll my eyes. Because of course Kingsley and his merry band of fucking idiots need a weird nickname to exert their power over everyone.
"Why am I not surprised,” I groan. The King of Gravestone couldn't live on campus or in a normal kind of house. "What's the deal with them, anyway? It's like they own the place," I mutter, although I'm not sure if it's
to Alex or just myself.
Sure, I've heard all the rumors about this town. Apparently, there are some weird rules and rituals some of the families live by, but mostly, I think it's all bullshit. This is the twenty-first century; no one lives like that anymore. It's just school gossip, kids trying to make their lives sound more exciting than they really are.
Yes, Cade Kingsley's family and a handful of others are insanely wealthy, but part of some weird cult?
Unlikely.
The car continues forward for a few minutes. I stare out the windshield, squinting, trying to see a building, anything other than darkness.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I ask, my eyes locking on billowing smoke rising through the trees on the horizon.
"Yes, it's time to embark on college life, Bex. Stop being a fucking pussy."
"I'm not, I'm—"
He glances over at me, his hazel eyes narrowing on me. "Being a pussy? Everyone who is anyone is going to be here tonight. Cade probably won't even know you're here."
"I'm not scared of Cade fucking Kingsley," I mutter.
"I never said you were."
"I'd just rather stay off his radar." My shoulders lift in a dismissive shrug, and Alex chuckles.
"From the way he's been looking at you this week, I'd say you're already firmly on it."
Yeah, I was worried you might say that.
I stretch my legs out and rub my hands on my thighs, the only thing I can do to expel the pent-up energy within me and the cravings I have to grab something to make my anxiety abate.
Alex pulls off to the left and we find ourselves in what looks like a car showroom for the rich and famous.
The parking lot at Sterling Prep used to be impressive, but it's nothing compared to the rides most of the kids from Gravestone U have. It's ridiculous and just proves that many of the families in this town have more money than sense.
There are a few kids loitering around, giving us a clue—along with the smoke—as to where the party is.
"Come on, then. I need a drink, and maybe a girl or two." Alex winks at me and takes off down a track between the trees.
I jog to catch up with him, the scent of the bonfire burning in the distance filling my nose.
After a couple of minutes, the trees part and a vast clearing emerges. There are kids everywhere, some sitting on fallen trees, others surrounding trucks that have somehow made it this far into the undergrowth, and in the distance is a vast lake, its waters inky black with the twinkling stars above reflecting in the stillness.
"Here." When I look back to Alex, I find him holding a bottle of beer out for me. "Christan and Troy are over there," he says, nodding to a couple of the guys he introduced me to when I first started at Gravestone High. Much like Alex, I've kept them at arm's length, but unlike him, they've allowed me to do it.
Troy doesn't notice our arrival—he's too busy with Maisie Godiva. He's got her thigh around his waist as he grinds into her, pressing her against the tree at her back. I watch them for a little longer than I probably should as his tongue pushes into her mouth and his hand disappears under her shirt.
"Ignore him, he thinks he’s God’s gift to women. Ain't that right, Troy?" Christan shouts, but the only response he gets is Troy flipping him the bird over his shoulder.
The song on the huge speakers someone has set up changes to The Weeknd, and I tip the bottle to my lips, looking out around at everyone, most of whom I don't recognize. I have no idea if they're all Gravestone students, but knowing Cade and his boys, I can't imagine they allow anyone here they don't want. Not that I can see them or their little posse who follows them around like lost sheep.
