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One thing was for sure. The new girl was shaking things up around here. I just wasn’t sure yet if it was in a good way or a very, very bad one.
4
JADE
I’d only had about a drink and a half, but I knew when I called out Xander in the middle of his own party that the alcohol must be getting to my head. I was still learning who my new identity was, but no way would even Jade be so rude to the host of a party without some liquid courage to fire her up.
Good Girl Hannah never used to drink, to be fair, so though I’d been going slow, I certainly could feel that warm buzz. I’d only ever tried stolen sips from my parents’ fancy liquor cabinet during sleepovers, and my giggling friends and I would always spit the vile stuff out in the kitchen sink. Of course, there were plenty of parties at my old school where boatloads of underage drinking and other illicit activities took place. Owen was a regular fixture at parties back at Worthingtonandwith the Coldwater crew, but he never wanted to drag me along. At the time, I thought he was looking out for me by always insisting I wouldn’t enjoy it, that it just wasn’t my scene. Now I knew better.
It was a lot easier for him to pick up other girls without his girlfriend there to cramp his style.
“Good to know,” Xander told me after what felt like a year of bated breath, “that you’ve got some wit to go with that body, at least.”
I felt my cheeks burn red, but it wasn’t only from embarrassment. The way Xander Townsend looked at me was so cold and calculated that at first glance, someone less focused on his every move—for revenge purposes, of course—might have mistaken it for complete apathy. But beneath the ice blue was a hint of the blue heat at the center of a flame. It was almost wolfishly hungry, shrouded behind a mask of pure control.
“If you’re gonna say stuff like that, at least get me a drink first,” I half purred. Leah, who I saw at the edge of the room watching this little scene, let out a scandalized“ooo”to egg me on. It made me smirk even as a really, really awful—but no less tempting for it—idea fell into my head. “In fact, get yourself one, too. How about a drink-off, pretty boy?”
“Oh, no. Something more interesting. A game, perhaps?”
Oh, jeez. No way this could be leading anywhere good. But sheer stubbornness, an unwillingness to let him win, had me falling for the bait and asking, “What sort of game?”
He strode toward me, slowly and deliberately. I didn’t back away as he came within a foot of me, close enough that I could see the dark blue ring around the edge of his chilly blue irises. Damn it, hewaspretty, though.
“I want to figure you out, new girl,” Xander almost purred. “A good old-fashioned Truth or Dare could be fun. But be warned, I won’t go easy on you just because you’re pocket-sized.”
I scoffed. “What are we, twelve?Notruth or dare. Never have I ever," I countered, thinking of it as the words came out of my mouth. “We drink for everything we’ve done.”
Xander’s lips stretched into a smirk that was the closest thing to a smile he could probably manage.
“That could work. Though I can almost guarantee my truths will be more interesting, so it feels like you’re getting the better side of this deal.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’m feeling generous.”
I rolled my eyes hard enough that I was surprised they didn’t break loose from my head and roll away onto the floor. “I don’t know you at all, Xander Townsend, but I doubt anyone would describe you asgenerous.I’d bet money on it—which is a language you can understand, at least.”
The crowd of classmates that had gathered around us for this display let out a scattering of titters, amusement I’d empowered them to show despite their clear fear and respect for Xander. He shot a look around the room that could kill, and the laughter died.
A truly unhinged thought struck me as I watched him intimidate his peers with only a glance. He may be a weapons-grade asshole, but at least I could see no artifice in it. In so many ways, Xander could have been exactly like Owen. They grew up with similar silver spoons and pretty faces that let them get away with almost anything, near-identical senses of entitlement. But where Owen had lured me in initially with a sweetness I’d been too naive to see through, Xander had something genuine in his icy exterior. This wasn’t an act or some kind of defense mechanism, and he didn’t bother trying to be someone he wasn’t to attract the love and adoration Owen hadn’t been able to live without. Xander was self-sufficient, content to be feared.
Christ, if I was starting to admire hishonesty,maybe Owen had done more damage to my brain than I thought.
“You said it yourself,” Xander’s low tone piped in, his gaze locked on mine in a clear intimidation tactic. I wouldn’t give in. “You don’t know me. So let’s get to know each other, shall we?”
With a nonchalant wave of his hand, all of Xander’s lackeys rushed to set up the game for us, clearing away the remnants of beer pong and setting up shots before I could even object.Thinking quickly, I grabbed a bottle of some kind of fruity concoction that wasn’t nearly as alcoholic as the straight liquor they’d poured for us. Just because I was dumb and tipsy enough to challenge Xander to a drinking game, even though he seemed fully sober and was about a foot taller than me, didn’t mean I was dumb enough to get myself sick off vodka shots.
“Ladies first,” Xander said, and I shook my head.
“You’re so curious about me,yougo first.”
“Fair enough.” He pondered for a long moment, then said, “Never have I ever mysteriously moved to a different school before my senior year.”
Damn it. I should have seen that coming. As our onlookers giggled, I took a quick swig from the bottle in my hands, then fired back, “Never have I ever hooked up with someone and then didn’t text them ever again.”
It was a shot in the dark, but it felt like a safe bet. Plus, I had a little insider info from Owen, who had always seemed to envy the carefree singleness of his best friend while we were dating. Xander raised an eyebrow, reached for a shot on the table, and threw it back, ignoring the drink in his other hand. Was he upping the ante in response to my first move or just trying to prove some kind of manliness by handling more liquor? Whatever. I wouldn’t let him rattle me either way.
“Never have I ever put out for a guy who couldn’t find the clitoris,” Xander said without missing a beat, and I felt my whole face flush bright red. Owen and I had some good times, but sexually, he hadn’t been terribly concerned with my pleasure. When I lost my virginity to him, he put on his kind and caring façade, checking in to make sure nothing hurt and that I was still on board to do this. But every time we slept together from that point on, it was like he’d already gotten what he wanted, so he didn’t have to try anymore.
There was some shame under my skin as I lifted my drink to my lips, but I squared my shoulders anyway and took a sip. I wasn’t at all ashamed of having sex with someone who, at the time, had cared for me. Despite the too-traditional values my parents tried to impose on me, I didn’t see the point in feeling shame about sex at all. My only regret was that I didn’t know who Owen really was until so much later—that I’d let myself be so vulnerable with someone who didn’t care about my pleasure in the slightest.
“A shame,” Xander commented idly, staring into my eyes like he was looking for something important. “A body like that should only ever be worshiped.”
