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Chapter One
Elena
Iwasbored,antsy,and a little uncomfortable—a combination that had proven to be dangerous for me. It meant I was likely to go looking for trouble. I raked my eyes over my roommate in the seat in front of me. She had on cute little biker shorts and a crop top.
“Where’s this party again? A gymnasium?”
Helen turned her head, shooting me a dry look from beneath her lashes, then continued applying her signature red lipstick without the help of a mirror. She didn’t reply, but to be fair, my question had pretty much been bait to entertain myself. Helen just didn’t want to play.
“It’s casual.” Theo, her sparkly eyed boyfriend, glanced at me in his rearview mirror.
“Pffft. Youwouldsay that. You’re so in love with her.”
He chuckled. “You got me there.”
Third wheeling it with my roommate and her beloved boyfriend wasn’t how I’d expected to spend the last days of summer before buckling down for my junior year at Savage U. But since Helen, Zadie, and I had moved in to a house off campus together last month, I’d quickly come to realize how much quality time they spent with their respective men, which meantIhad to spend time with them.
Fortunately, both Theo and Zadie’s boyfriend, Amir, were tolerable. Even better, Theo often volunteered to be the designated driver. Not one to turn down a free ride, I’d scrunched my long legs in the back of his Toyota more times than I could count.
“No one told you to dress like a high-end escort,” Helen said.
“Ialwaysdress like a high-end escort. No one has to tell me to do it,” I replied.
Oooh, so we were going to spar. Fun times. Since Zadie was back home in Oregon with Amir for the week, no one was here to step between us. Double fun.
She tossed a tube of lipstick into the back seat. “Put some on. You forgot to reapply after your last client.”
I uncapped it, checking out the color. It was a pinkish nude, not her shade at all. “No trampy red?”
She huffed. “You don’t need any more help looking like a harlot.” Turning around in her seat again, she shot me a crooked grin. “That’s yours. You made me hold it last time we went out.”
Oh, right. I remembered now. The bonfire on the beach a couple weeks ago. The upside to Helen’s unerring habit of wearing jeans or cutoffs was she always had pockets for me to stash things.
“Because you’re the only woman I hang with who insists on dressing like a twelve-year-old boy.”
She made tomboy look sexy. Bitch.
Helen arched a brow. “Sorry, floozy, no pockets on me tonight. Carry your own shit.”
“Floozy? That’s rich. I haven’t had sex in months, yet we’re running late because you and golden boy just had to bang it out.”
The blackest part of my heart was jealous of their relationship. Once upon a time, I would have eaten that jealousy for breakfast and spat out cruel vitriol to soothe the burn. Instead, I let it pass through me, feeling it and moving on. It wasn’t like I wanted Theo, or even someone Theo-like. I just wanted…something. Hating on the happy couple wouldn’t get me anywhere or anything.
She tossed her long, brown hair behind her shoulder and reached over to squeeze the back of Theo’s neck. “I’m sure you can find some poor, unsuspecting fool eager for you to suck his soul out of his dick tonight.”
I moved my legs—or tried to, at least. Apparently, being five-nine put me over the height limit for Theo’s sensible, family sedan. My knees were going to look like I’d spent some time on them when I got out of here.
“Is that what I’m supposed to be sucking out of dicks?” I snapped my fingers. “Damn, I’ve been doing it wrong this whole time.”
Theo laughed again. Helen’s smile went soft and gooey as she slid her fingers into the back of his hair. My stomach nose-dived.
Gross.
Love was really, really gross.
The party was at a random off-campus house. Since it was still officially summer break, it wasn’t as packed with bodies as it would have been if school were in session. Still, there were all the usual suspects—the dealers, the stoners, the table dancers, the vomit-in-a-houseplant girl. I really only knew Helen and Theo, but since I was trying not to be a stage-five clinger, I’d been mingling and drinking since we arrived.
And watching the table dancer wistfully. That used to be me once upon a time. Why wasn’t it me anymore?
