♚ J E S S E ♚

"You look yummy."

A redheaded girl gives me a quick, sultry smile before she slinks off into the crowd to drape herself over some guy. Or girl. Who knows?

I take a large gulp of my apple cider and make my way through the thick crowd to the front door. The loud music pumps through my body like the alcohol in my veins, making me buzzed and restless. All around me guys and girls are grinding, making out, dancing. I see two guys groping each other and hold back a snort.

The lights are off, besides the many phone screens. Good thing it's hard to see in the dark because the majority of girls here are topless.

I greet a couple of people on my way, ditching my cup when it's empty, and then spot the girl I've been waiting on. I sling an arm over her shoulders, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek. "California," I greet her, nuzzling her neck to inhale her perfume.

She pushes me away but I catch her smile. "It's Calliope," she corrects with a light laugh. She looks sexy as hell, with her wavy hair flowing over her shoulders. Her killer figure is emphasized by a tight, red dress. "And hi, Jesse."

Two girls and a guy pass us, giggling and touching each other. California's eyes follow them before she glances around. "Wow. This is way bigger than I thought it'd be. Nice place to throw a party," she states, pushing her hair to rest on one shoulder.

I grin at her, pulling us aside so we're under the stairs. "It's not a party; it's the getting together of mutual friends," I recite.

Calliope laughs, covering her mouth as she accidentally snorts, and I laugh along with her. A mute guy named Denis - part of the elite group in the school hierarchy - hands me and California a drink, and I thank him. Calliope sniffs her open beer bottle before she takes a gulp. "Is that what you told your parents? The getting together of mutual friends?" California giggles, leaning in and touching my arm. "Jesse, half of these people don't even go to our high school!"

"Uh, yeah, that may be so but a friend of mine has a few friends, who knows a few people and those people are friends with . . . shit," I cuss as I get confused. Calliope gives me an amused look, her hips swaying to the music blaring, and it's then that I properly look at her. "You know, you look hot. Like, so hot that I wanna fuck you right here, right now."

Her cheeks flush pink but she gives me a wicked smile, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. Taking a step closer to me. My heart is a puddle of alcohol, catching fire as California's hand trails over my torso.

I place a hand on her hip, and we stare at each other as we finish off our drinks. Her eyes get glassy as she finishes her beer. She tosses it somewhere behind us while my cup falls to the floor, and we both laugh at the sound of broken glass.

"Maybe you'll get to fuck me, but not now," Calliope murmurs, wrapping her hands around my neck. "If you're a good boy," she whispers in my ear, nibbling on my earlobe. One hand slides down my chest, over my stomach and stops at the waistband of my jeans. A sigh leaves her lips as she lets her fingers play with my belt buckle, tracing her index finger over my torso.

I hold in a groan, gripping her waist like my life depends on it. California shivers, tangling her fingers in my hair and presses herself against me. "And maybe I should punish you for being such a bad girl," I bite her throat and chuckle when she lets out a soft whimper.

Her cheeks press against my palms as I cradle her face. "God, you're stunning." Judging from her looks I'm sure I'm not the only one who gets into her pants on a weekly basis.

Calliope suddenly shoots me a dazzling smile before walking away, leaving me high and dry. "Tease," I yell after her. All she does is wink, blow me a kiss and disappear into the throng of writhing bodies.

∞

"So, when are you going to make a move?"

I roll my eyes at Preston's obnoxious voice, trying to sober up with crackers and icy water. There's ten of us sitting in the basement while the party rages on upstairs.

I pay no attention to the clingy girl sharing my bean bag. "Give me some time, man," I drawl, meeting the eyes of Preston's girlfriend. She doesn't understand a word of English but, apparently, is great in bed. Cat smiles brightly, unaware that her dress barely covers her private parts.

"It's been, like, how long? Two weeks and you still haven't done shit," Allen butts in. In our group, he is the freakishly tall Swedish transfer student. Also known as a douche. He plays with the fingers of his third-girlfriend-this-week, as she snuggles up to him on the couch. I grimace at their PDA. By Sunday he'll be fucking another nameless, brainless Barbie. Barbie referring to the type of girls he picks: blonde and leggy with plastic faces.

"Fuck off, okay?" I snarl, trying to ignore the thumping in my skull.

Allen raises his hands mockingly at me, "Okay man. I'm just saying all you've done is talk—"

"And you're down to under four months, dude," Bryce - the rich guy - finishes, taking a swig of beer. "Which, yeah, is a fuck-load of time, but trust me, it'll fly by. You'd be getting it done sooner rather than later."

"Why are you even going ahead with this?" Nina sighs from the across the room, lighting up a joint. "I mean, I know you need the money, but what did she ever do to you?" Her question makes me start to doubt myself.

"Relax, Nee," Cynthia, Nina's regular hookup, giggles as her pupils dilate. She rests her feet on the coffee table, popping a pill and chasing it down with Baileys. "It's not a big deal. She's not gonna, y'know, off herself 'cause of it."

"You're acting as if she hasn't tried before," Nina mutters under her breath. "Remember recently she almost drowned herself?"

I sink into the bean bag. "Nina's right. Maybe we shouldn't do this," I hesitate and there's an uproar of cursing.

"I bet he's only saying that 'cause he loves her," Preston tells Allen, but I know that was a jab aimed at me. He looks me straight in the eyes with a smirk like the pretentious prick he is. "He's falling for the pathetic suicidal scum that can't tell the difference between a vegetable peeler and a razor—"

"Shut the fuck up, you prick!" I bellow, throwing my bottle at him with force. He catches it in his left hand. The whole group goes quiet, even Cynthia, who never stops blabbering.

I rub the space between my eyebrows, feeling a massive headache coming on. "Can't I do something else? Or choose someone else? It doesn't seem fair on her."

There's silence before Allen speaks up, "A deal's a deal. You can forfeit and show the group what a pussy you really are. But won't your mommy d—"

"Fine." I sigh angrily, trying not to smash Allen's face in. "Whatever, I'll do it."

They hoot and cheer, but I've never felt more miserable. Preston claps me on the back and grabs another beer from the cooler. "Aye, that's our Jesse. Everyone: to Jesse!"

"To Jesse!" Beers or cigarettes are raised, and it's hard to shake off the guilty feeling hanging over my shoulders like a wet blanket. Ashley, or Ashlyn, or Andrea - I forgot her name - rubs my shoulders, her shorts so small they're practically nonexistent.

I decline taking part in Spin The Bottle, my mind elsewhere. Just as I'm about to get swallowed in my thoughts, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and see Evelyn's number flash on the screen.

Finally, someone moderately sane. I get up without a word, heading down to one of the empty rooms attached to the basement. I press accept and hear the sound of sirens. "Jesse?" a foreign voice says through the phone.

"Who is this?" I ask, leaving the door behind me ajar before sitting on the queen-sized bed.

"My name is Patricia Smyth, I'm calling from Novato Community Hospital. We were unable to obtain your address and you were an emergency contact," she says briskly. In the background, there's the clanging of wheels on gravel and hurried voices.

"Um, okay, hello, Patricia—"

"You are Jesse Garza, correct?"

I nod, dazed and confused. "Yes, I'm Jesse."

"I'm calling to inform you that Evelyn has been involved in an accident—"

"Evelyn?" It takes me a moment to comprehend the news, and when I do, my vision blurs and tilts.

"Yes, Evelyn Winters—"

"How did you get this number?"

"You were an emergency contact on her phone. Others have been contacted—"

"Is she alright?"

There's a short pause, and I get the feeling she isn't the type to hesitate. A lump grows in my throat, and I try my hardest to swallow it. "I'm afraid you'll have to come down here to Novato Community Hospital, Jesse."

I pace the room, my agitation increasing until it feels like the walls are closing in on me. "Why, what's wrong? What happened? Is she oka—?"

"I can't disclose that information over the phone, Jesse."

I slam my fist into the wall, not unfazed by the sound of bones breaking. I can't think straight. A tiny crack appears on the wall. My breathing is ragged, and there's a feeling in my stomach that could be from alcohol or nausea at the situation.

"Okay. I'll be there as soon as I can," I say calmly and hang up, leaving me alone with a headache and throbbing hand.

There's a faint noise and I look up to see Theo, hands shoved into his pockets as he leans against the doorway. The light from the main basement casts a shadow but I can see his concerned expression.

"You okay, man?" he asks.

I'm about to brush it off but I shake my head, rubbing my eye. "No. I need a ride." I know he hasn't had a drink because he's the DD for tonight.

"Where to?"

"Novato," I answer, and Theo sighs before heading back to the basement. I follow him, both of us ignoring everyone else when they ask where we're going.

"Damn, J, I thought you hated baseball but I see you're batting for the same team," Preston mocks, and I don't even have time to glare at him.

Theo shoves him against the wall, pressing a pocketknife against Preston's throat. "Other people might take your dumb shit but I won't. You better watch your fucking mouth, or you'll be sorry," he says with menace, and the room goes silent. Everyone knows that if you mess with Theo then you're messing with your own life.

Theo slips the knife back into his jacket and walks on to climb the stairs leading to the ground floor. I give Preston a dirty look before following.

Once we're in his Aston Martin DB9, I get the directions from Google Maps and we set off. There's a long silence before Theo breaks it, not looking once in my direction.

"Hope she's worth it," he mutters.

I don't answer, sucked into my own drunken thoughts.

Is she?