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And another. And another.
"I'm going to have to call Derek to take us home," Ashtyn says. "I'm already feeling dizzy."
"I'm good," I say, liking the warm feeling rushing through my body. I'm not feeling any pain right now--none at all.
"Wanna dance?" some guy with messy brown hair and beer dripping down his chin asks me.
Umm... "I'm good."
"Go dance, Monika!" Bree says, pushing me toward the guy.
How did I get myself into this situation? It's not like I haven't drank before. I have. It's just...I've only drank a few times with my friends. I've never drank with a bunch of strangers in a club.
He leads me to the dance floor, and we start dancing. I try not to think about his hands on my waist or the fact that I think he just felt my butt. I step away from him, but he pulls me back with an overly tight grip on my arm.
"Come on, be nice and give me some sugar," he says into my ear.
I'm not good at pretending like Bree is. I take his hand, the one that's got a grip on my arm, and scratch him with my nails.
"Ow! Bitch!" he screams over the loud music.
When he releases me, I weave through the crowd and stumble a couple of times along the way.
I think I'm drunk.
But when I see a girl with bright pink hair, my mind sobers up. She's in the corner, popping a yellow pill into her mouth. When our eyes meet, she ducks through the crowd.
"Zara!" I call out as loud as I can over the music as I try my best to follow her through the sea of people drinking and dancing.
For a minute I think I've lost her, but then I catch a glimpse of that pink hair as she escapes into the bathroom. Wasting no time, I push through until I'm in the bathroom, too. No pink hair in here. She must be in one of the stalls.
"Hey, Zara," I say, trying not to slur my words. "I need to talk to you. I'm not leaving here until we talk."
Suddenly the door to one of the stalls opens. Zara Hughes--the pretty girl in the pictures with Trey. Forever and always.
"Do you know who I am?" I ask her.
"Yeah." She looks nervous and her eyes focus on the door. Is she planning her escape to avoid this confrontation? "I know who you are," she says.
Girls waiting in line for an open stall are listening to us. It's not like there's any place we can talk in private, so I'm gonna do it right here and now.
"I, um..." I think of what to say, but my brain is foggy and I'm aware that people are starting to stare.
I look at Zara's pink hair, pink lips, and her flawless skin. Despite what I want to think, she doesn't look like a slut or manipulative. She looks sad, like she's just lost the love of her life.
I don't need to interrogate her. Just by looking at the tears pooling in her eyes, I know the truth. She was in love with Trey. From the pictures I found in his room, I can tell he was in love with her.
I reach into my purse and pull out the pictures of the two of them. "Here," I say. "I found these in Trey's room."
She tentatively takes the pictures from my hands. A tear falls down her face when she stares longingly at each one.
"Thank you," she says, holding the pictures to her chest.
I'm about to leave when Zara calls out, "I'm so sorry, Monika."
I nod. And look at her for a long time. "Me too."
Back in the main area of the club, I spot Ashtyn and Bree, who are on the dance floor with a bunch of people from Fremont. They wave me over, but as I'm heading toward them a guy wearing a gray hoodie bumps into me on his way through the sea of people.
His face is partially concealed by the hood, but when I glance at him his head slowly raises, revealing dark, blazing eyes.
I gasp.
I'm not too drunk to know those black eyes can only belong to one person.
Victor Salazar.
Chapter Forty-three
VICTOR
All I want to do is leave this club, but I'm not leaving without my sister. Club Mystique. Hell, I've gone here a bunch of times with my friends over the years--the club where teens can party with the over-21 crowd.
This gringo with the words WEED-WHACKER on his shirt comes up to me. "You got anythin' to smoke, man?"
Smoke?
"No. I'm lookin' for someone," I tell him.
"Aren't we all," WEED-WHACKER replies.
Someone taps on my shoulder and yells something I can't hear over the music.
I turn around, annoyed. "What the fuck do you wa--"
My tongue forgets to work, because standing in front of me is a goddess come to life. Monika Fox couldn't blend into this crowd even if she wanted to. The girl's curly hair is long and beautiful, her red dress is sexy as hell, and she's got this aura about her that makes everyone in the room stare.
Including me.
Her eyes are glassy though, and she looks like she's about to stumble. I reach out to steady her, but she swats my hand away. "Don't touch me!" Her words are slurred.
"You're drunk."
"I'm buzzed," she says, slowly. "There's a difference."
"Okay, whatever you say." I glance behind her and see my sister in the corner of the club. Bonk has his arms around her like she's his, and my veins fire up.
"Do you have somewhere to go?"
I don't answer.
"Don't ignore me, Vic."
"I'm not ignoring you."
She grabs my shoulder and urges me to lean down so I can hear her.
"I'm not leaving, and I'm not letting you leave me," she practically screams over the music. "You can't hide forever."
I abandon my mission to rescue Dani and take Monika by the hand.
She pulls her hand back. "Where are you taking me?"
"Outside."
"Maybe I don't want to go outside." She cranes her neck to see the dance floor. "I came here with Bree and Ashtyn. My friends."
"And you're leavin' with me." Taking Monika by the hand again, I lead her outside. She stumbles a few times, tripping over her own feet.
"How much did you drink?" I ask her.
"Don't know," she says, holding her free hand up as if she's under arrest. "Enough to feel really, really, really good and really, really pissed."
Oh, hell.
"I don't even know why I care that you're here or why it bothers me that you hate me."
"I don't hate you," I tell her in a low voice as we weave through the crowd.
Monika looks up at me with a mixture of anger and defiance. "I kissed you and you could care less. In fact, you said it was a mistake."
She leans back and looks right into my eyes. Oh, man, I'm in trouble. Especially when she stumbles backward and I have to reach out to catch her.
Monika glances at a bunch of people walking around us, then looks up at me with those eyes that seem to sparkle on their own. "You're fucking up your life. Trey would beat the shit out of you if he knew what you turned into." She squints, gauging my reaction. "It doesn't matter if you hate me or not, Vic. I hate you."
"Yeah, well, it's a good thing you hate me."
"Why?"
"Because you're still my best friend's girlfriend," I tell her simply. "That's why."
"Hey!" I hear someone call out. "Is that Vic Salazar? Yo, I saw your sister with Matthew Bonk. They were sucking face by the bar."
Oh, shit.
I hold Monika and look into her eyes. I want to be close to her again, to tell her that I'll be there for her no matter what. But it would complicate everything if I were honest with her. "I've got to go rescue my sister from Bonk," I tell her. "But I'm not leavin' you like this."
"I changed my mind. Just go. Leave. I don't need you or your stupid kisses." She pushes my hands off her. "You're good at leaving when people need you, Vic. That's your specialty."
"You don't understand. Trey and I were best friends." I'm feeling more than defeated at this point. "I can't... I can't do this."
"You don't know anything about me and Trey!" Monika calls out.
"I know he l
oved you," I tell her.
"You don't know shit, Vic. You think you do, but you got duped just like me. You thought you knew Trey, but he was a stranger to both of us." She glances at the front of the club where Bree and Ashtyn are standing, waving her over. But then Ashtyn must recognize me, because she comes running over.
"Oh my God! Vic!" Ash cries out. I haven't seen her since the accident, but this isn't the time to talk. Not now.
"Take her, Ash," I say as I put Monika in Ashtyn's arms.
"Wait, are you leaving?"
"After I take care of business." I head to the bar.
Because Bonk has a date with my sister--and with my fist.
Chapter Forty-four
MONIKA
"Have you ever fallen in love with someone you hate?" I ask Isa on Monday as we work on a car together.
"Oh, chica, I've fallen in love with many men who I've hated."
"Who was your first boyfriend?"
She puts down the wrench in her hand and sighs. "His name was Paco. We weren't official or anythin', but I was seventeen and totally in love with him. I imagined us gettin' married and havin' kids one day."
"What happened?"
"He was murdered." She sniffs a few times, then picks the wrench back up and starts working on the car again. "I got out of the gang after that, but it didn't bring him back."
"I'm sorry."
"Me too." She looks at me sideways. "So what's the deal with you and my cousin?"
I can feel blood rushing to my cheeks. "Nothing."
