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“Whose house is this again?” I lean toward her, shouting slightly.
We move against the crowd and toward a make-shift dance floor. Internally, I grimace but manage to keep a straight face when her head turns. Harper’s eyes are slightly glassy from the shots she took when we first arrived. She has foregone the t-shirt and shorts from earlier, and is now in a strapless bodysuit that showcases her legs. I feel frumpy in comparison; my goal was to hide and it shows. I glance at my jeans and my basic black t-shirt.She belongs to the streetsis painted across the front in neon red. My flip-flops are sticking to the floor and I’m sure I look as uncomfortable as I feel.
“This is Matty Johnson’s house,” Harper yells back and points to some guy over the crowd. I don’t recognize him in any of our classes.
“How do you know him?”
She shrugs and pulls me closer. “He graduated last year. His mom is the manager of the hotel in town.”
I know being here is risky, since it’s on the other side of town, the side I refuse to cross into. Looks like I’ve broken that rule twice now in the last twenty-four hours.
“Want a drink?” Harper holds out a red solo cup to me and my stomach turns.
I let an easy smile pull at my lips. “How about I drive us?”
She nods eagerly and drinks from the cup. When she slams it back down, she grabs my hand again. “Let's dance!”
Harper pulls me to the dance floor and the crowd parts slightly to allow us into the mix. Her hands land on her hips and she starts to sexily sway to the beat before jumping around the space with the crowd. I watch and wait and start to feel annoyed with myself. I made the choice to be here. I don’t want to be exiled from people when it’s not by my own choice. One song bleeds into another, and soon, I get lost in the rhythm as well. The music isn’t my favorite, but I can dance to anything. When Harper sees me, she practically jumps off the ground and pulls us deeper into the crowd.
I can’t hear anything but the music. I can’t see beyond the people who are around us and the lights from the DJ table. I’m as invisible as I want to be. When a pair of hands land on my waist, and the body behind me starts dancing, I let it go. I watch Harper and smile because she is having fun and it starts to feel like old times.
“WHAT THE FUCK!” I hear Corey’s voice, and Harper’s eyes bulge.
The guy behind me staggers and I sway with him, before I’m moved out of the way. Next thing I know, Corey is on top of him, punching him over and over.
“Stop! Get off of him.” I reach down and pull at Corey’s arm. He gets back to his feet and turns on me. His eyes are murderous and I want to shrink in on myself. I don’t know this person in front of me. One of his hands lands on my shoulder and he pushes me out of the crowd and to the back of the room. Harper follows beside us, her head down, and I swear she looks scared.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Corey asks, his voice is filled with violence. Blood is streaked on his white t-shirt.
“I can be at a party, Corey.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I wasn’t aware I had to report my every move to you.” I hug my arms across my body. We’re in a stare-off. I watch his face change colors and his jaw clamp shut. He’s taken something. His breathing isn’t steady and his eyes are red.
I’m not prepared when his hand snakes out and he grabs my upper arm, dragging me through the house again. Harper starts to follow.
“Leave, Harper!” Corey turns on her and I flinch.
She looks stunned then scared. Harper won’t even look at me as she slides past us and heads toward the front of the house.
“She can’t drive, asshole. I’m her sober cab to get home.” I yank against his hold.
“She’s resourceful as a rat. She’ll find a ride,” Corey argues and starts moving us again.
My heart hammers in my chest and my stomach fills with a dull ache. How is this what our friendship has come to? I’ve never heard him talk about or to Harper that way. I’ve never seen her look scared of Corey.
We come to a row of doors and Corey opens one and pushes me in. The light flips on, not that it's helpful. It's a bedroom, and instantly my guard goes up. In an effort to put boundaries between us, I cross my arms over my chest and step back.
“What are you doing?” My voice cracks and it's quiet, but I know he heard me.
Corey’s head whips down to look at me, his chest is still heaving. “Why are you here? You’re avoiding me. What happened last night?”
“Nothing,” I answer automatically. His brow rises.
“Nothing, huh.” Corey runs his tongue over his lips, his eyes narrowing on me. “Then why did Gage Monroe talk to you today?”
“It was nothing.”
