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Fall in Maine was a far cry from what I was used to.
“Look, I can’t wear this to class,” she pointed out, running her hands over the tiny skirt and barely-there shirt. “But I brought it, so I can’t let it go to waste.”
I snorted. “You’re right about that, you certainly can’t wear that to class.” While it had turned out the dress code wasn’t quite as strict as I’d been led to believe, there was still no way Nora would get away with that much skin showing.
“Seriously though,” Frank put in, looking me over. “You can’t wear that. Didn’t you bring anything…you know, sexy?”
I glanced down at my worn jeans and comfortable hoodie. “I’m not going out to pick up guys,” I objected. “I don’t need to look sexy.”
Nora eyed me as if I was crazy. “It’s not about picking up guys. It’s about having a good time and feeling good about yourself while you’re doing it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And I have to look slutty to do that?”
Frank laughed. “Yes, obviously.”
“Well, I sure didn’t bring anything like that.” I gestured between the pair of them. They sized me up, then exchanged a glance.
“You’re about Frank’s size,” Nora observed. “We’ve got you covered.”
In the end, with much vetoing on my part and cajoling on theirs, I ended up in a pair of my own black jeans, ripped up beyond the point of appropriate school attire and tight enough to be deemed acceptable by my roommates. Since long sleeves were non-negotiable, on top I wore a shiny black, skin-tight, long-sleeved halter top, borrowed from Frank, that left my shoulders as well as far more of my stomach visible than seemed necessary. A pair of Frank’s knee-high black suede boots and some smoky makeup courtesy of Nora completed the outfit, and after a glance in the mirror I had to admit that I looked pretty incredible. All the black clothing made my pale blond hair practically glow in the dark, and the bold purple strands underneath were vivid against my shoulders and down my back.
“Much better.” Nora nodded as she ushered us out the door.
The student parking lot, situated on the far side of the dorms, was a study in blatant, unapologetic wealth, and I held my breath as I climbed gingerly into the back seat of Nora’s unspeakably expensive car, afraid to leave so much as a stray fingerprint on the butter-soft leather interior. But when Nora opened the roof, turned the stereo on loud, and gunned the car out past the main gates and onto the forested road toward town—pausing only to sign our names and show our IDs at the main gate—I relaxed into the seat. I let the night air blow through my hair, feeling like maybe this was exactly what I needed after all.
The bar—sporting the creative name Vinnie’s Place in flashing neon above the entryway—was pretty much exactly what I’d imagined for a backwoods townie bar. Dimly lit and dingy, with a decidedly Adirondack theme of exposed wooden beams and animal heads mounted on the walls, there was also a row of pool tables along one side and dart boards on the walls, as well as a small, worn dance floor.
The place was already crowded when we arrived, with a mixture of locals and students. Frank left us immediately to join a few friends she’d spotted at a corner booth, so I followed Nora to the bar, where she procured beers for both of us. No fake IDs necessary, I noticed. The bartender didn’t even look twice.
I leaned against the bar and took it all in, squinting against the haze of cigarette smoke that wafted in through an open side door. It seemed this was where most of the seniors spent their Saturday nights. I recognized groups of kids from each of my classes—even Julie and Drew were there at the other end of the bar, and I grudgingly followed along as Nora went down to say hello.
As we grew closer, it became apparent that the two of them were deep in a heated conversation.
“—thought you said it was a one-time thing,” Julie hissed in a low voice as we approached.
Drew rolled his eyes and took a mouthful of his drink. I tried to pull back and leave them to their argument, but Nora blithely pulled out a stool and plopped down between them, causing me to wonder if she hadn’t noticed the argument or if her interruption had been deliberate.
The only other free stool was unfortunately between Drew and the wall. I scanned the room for a free table or booth when my gaze locked with a pair of piercing green eyes from across the room.
Unlike the rest of the clean-cut, prep-school kids who clearly thought it was a hilarious novelty to slum it at a run-down townie bar, Garrett Silver appeared right at home. Between the bulging muscles and the menacing expression that never seemed to leave his face, I would have taken him for one of the rough-looking locals if I hadn’t known better.
His brow was creased in a frown, as usual, but I caught a glimmer of something unrecognizable in the depths of his eyes. Despite my burgeoning friendships with both of his friends, Garrett generally gave me a wide berth, keeping to himself and avoiding the other students as much as I did. Every once in a while, though, I would catch him looking my way with an expression that bordered on soft, and sometimes I wondered if the indifference he worked so hard to maintain was just a front. He barely spoke two words to me in class, and avoided me whenever possible, but I couldn’t deny there was something there between us, some awareness of each other that I couldn’t quite explain.
I tore my eyes away from his and looked back over his shoulder. Sure enough, there were Micah and Devan, leaning over one of the pool tables, cues in hand. It was surprising to see them here; the three of them made such strong efforts to stay removed from the other students, I hadn’t expected to see them at what was obviously a popular hangout. But I guessed everyone needed to get off campus at some point.
I had resumed my search for an empty table when a hand dropped onto my arm.
“Come sit by me, beautiful,” Drew said, pulling on my arm with a slightly too-tight grip until I reluctantly took the empty stool, scooting it away from him as I perched on the edge.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you two,” I said with an awkward nod to where Julie had turned away and was deep in conversation with Nora.
Drew swung his head to briefly follow my gaze before snorting dismissively and turning to face me once again. “Nah, don’t worry about it. She’s bein’ a bitch and I’d rather talk to you, mystery girl.”
His words were slightly slurred, and I peered at him in the dim light, hiding my disgust at his words as I took in his bloodshot eyes. Awesome. Normal Drew was bad enough; I wasn’t particularly interested in spending time with drunk Drew.
“You look good tonight,” he commented, leaning forward into my personal space. “I’ve never seen you all dressed up like this.” His bloodshot gaze passed over me from head to foot, lingering on my exposed midriff.
I suppressed a shudder, forcibly stopping myself from covering any exposed skin with my hands. Seriously, his girlfriend was right behind him.
