I was an idiot for showing up.

What was I expecting from the guy who pretended to be a character from a book the first day we met?

Watching him go up stairs to do who knew what with that girl was a sign. My mom was right. Stephen Davis was not worth the risk of her losing her job.

Leaving probably would've been the best idea, but I didn't want Stephen to think I was only there for him. Because I wasn't.

Theo's mom picked him up a little after Stephen invited us to the party and being in that huge house alone while there was a party full of interesting people right next door seemed ridiculous.

I came to make friends. Stephen was an afterthought. Not even that. Stephen who?

A party full of wealthy teens was the same as the parties I'd been to back home. The only differences were that everyone seemed to be wearing designer clothes and drinking expensive alcohol.

I felt out of place and a little childish in my cherry printed top and chucks. Especially since the girls there looked like they'd have thousands of Instagram followers based on appearances alone.

After aimlessly wandering the house for a few minutes I was roped into a game of Spades. I hadn't played in years and it showed. We were in the backyard crowded around a fold-out card table, playing in the light of tiki torches. The same ones Stephen bought back when he made the fort.

I glanced up at the dark windows at the back of the house, wondering which room belonged to him and if he was still in there.

Not that I cared. Because I didn't.

My Spade's partner, a cute guy with medium brown skin and short dreads with a side fade-like Michael B. Jordan in Black Panther-had to give me a quick refresher of the rules.

"Sorry," I said to him after losing the third game in a row. "I feel like it's my fault we keep losing."

"It's not," he assured me, pointing to the couple across from us. "They cheating."

"Y'all just wack!" The girl laughed, picking up her cup and frowning after realizing it was empty. "I need a refill."

Once her and her boyfriend left the other players disbanded, officially ending the game.

Killmonger, who's actual name I couldn't remember, hung back to clean up the cards. I helped just to have something to do.

Making friends was harder than I anticipated. The people there were either intimidating or super drunk. Killmonger was the only person who spoke to me.

"You live over here?" He asked, arranging the cards in a deck.

"My mom and I are renting the house next door." Technically, we weren't renting the house. Shontell was footing the bill.

I handed him the cards I collected from my side of the table before asking, "Why?"

"Because you don't look like you're from here," he said casually as he forced the card into their box.

Meanwhile, my brain filled with a hundred questions. What did that mean? Was it my hair? My clothes? What about me said "other"?

I hated myself for thinking about the girl Stephen went upstairs with. I didn't even see her face, I didn't need to. Everything from her outfit to her hair to her gorgeous dark skin was perfect. I'm sure her face was perfect, too.

He sat the cards aside, looking at me and licking his lips. "I definitely would've noticed you before."

Oh. He was flirting. I let myself breathe. Then I tensed again.

He was flirting.

How did I respond to that? It wasn't like I'd ever had much luck in a situation like that.

My cheeks burned as I tried, desperately, to think of something to say. It was so much easier with Stephen.

Wow, Waverly. Maybe thinking about another guy while I tried to flirt with someone else was the issue.

"What? Do you have a photographic memory with faces or something?"

What the hell are you saying? I scolded myself.

He laughed and it didn't feel like it was at my expense. That didn't stop the embarrassment that radiated from me.

"Only the pretty ones." He had a boyish grin that probably kept him out of trouble. "You want a drink?"

We ended up in the kitchen where I had a can of Sprite and he mixed something together in a clear plastic cup. I declined any alcohol. I was a lightweight and didn't want to risk having a hangover when my mom got back.

We turned around to head back outside when I crashed into someone, my soda spilling all over us both and the floor.

I looked up, mid apology, when I realized it was Stephen. He'd changed his clothes since going upstairs. It was the first time I'd seen him in jeans. Whatever happened up there must've gotten messy.

Killmonger cursed grabbing napkins. For his shoes, not for me.

"Sorry," Stephen said, handing me some napkins. They didn't do much for the soda that leaked down my cleavage and into my bra, but he was nice enough to try. More than I could've said about the guy who was patting down his shoes.

"Steph!" Killmonger exclaimed, once he was satisfied with cleaning his shoes and finally noticing him. "You were upstairs for a minute, I was starting to think you and Toya put you to sleep." The guy laughed.

A vein in Stephen's neck twitched like he was trying to keep himself calm. "Dev," he growled in a low, warning voice.

That whole situation felt weird and I was ready to call it a night.

Before I could follow through with an escape plan, Killmonger pointed to me. "Oh, this is Whitney."

"Waverly," Stephen and I said in unison.

"Right, Waverly. My bad," he said, sipping his drink. Then he almost choked on it, giving me a double take. "Waverly? Waverly, Waverly?"

"Most people just say it once," I said, laughing awkwardly.

Killmonger-or Dev, apparently-gaze shifted from Stephen to me then back to Stephen. "I didn't know," he said, hands up in mock surrender. He backed away before turning off and disappearing into the crowd.

What the heck?

I looked up at Stephen. "What was that about?"

Stephen glanced around the kitchen that barely had any breathing room before turning back to me. "Can we go somewhere else?"

I couldn't tell if it was my curiosity or my stupidity that had me following him. We went upstairs to his mom's secret office. It wasn't locked that time and when he turned on the lights I noticed it'd been cleaned. He closed the door behind us.

"That girl you saw me with," he started. "We didn't do anything."

Sure. He was up here with her for almost an hour and he came down wearing a completely different outfit. I wasn't that stupid.

Out loud I simply said, "Okay."

"Okay?" He asked, brows pinching together.

"What you did or didn't do really isn't any of my business." I stared down into the darkness of my soda can. I didn't know why I still had it, there was hardly anything left in it.

He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I just thought -You looked upset earlier."

Nope," I said, shaking my head. Lying. "I was actually enjoying hanging out with Kill-Dev. Until you scared him away. Why'd he run off like that anyway?"

"He's my friend," he answered. "I told him about you and I guess he thought-"

"That you had some kind of claim on me?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

"No!" He said, taken aback. "I mean, maybe? I guess. It wasn't like I told him that, though. It's an unspoken rule."

"So, your friends aren't allowed to talk to me?" I asked, trying to get a grasp on that idiotic rule. "Even though you were upstairs messing around with another girl?"

I let my jealousy slip and Stephen caught it. A flicker of amusement passed through his eyes.

He had a smug look on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I thought you didn't care about what I did up there?"

I spun the soda can I held around in my hands, trying to remain level. "I don't. I'm just annoyed that apparently I'm walking around with a "PROPERTY OF STEPHEN DAVIS" sign in my back. You obviously have someone, I should be able to talk to whoever I want."

"Look, if you want to talk to Devon, you can."

My eyes widened. It was like he had a list of ways to piss me off and was working his way down it. "Wow. Thank you for giving me your permission."

That wiped the smugness from his face. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Whatever," I said, setting the soda can on the desk. "I'm leaving. I mean, if that's okay with you?"

He said nothing, just stared at the hardwood floor as I stepped past him. As soon as I put my hand on the doorknob, his giant one covered mine.

"Stephen." The push and pull was giving me whiplash.

"Wait," he said, serious. "Do you hear that?"

"I don't hear anything."

"Exactly."

I listened. The music had stopped and there was the faint murmurs of people annoyed by the sudden silence. Then a very familiar, very angry voice cut through the quiet.

"All of you, out!"

Stephen's mom. I flinched away from the door. That woman was terrifying, which would explain the stampede that followed as people tried to leave.

Stephen cursed under his breath then shut off the lights in the room. "You have to leave."

"I was trying to." I went to open the door again and he stopped me.

"What do you think my mom will do if she saw us together?"

Fire my mom, I thought. "Then how do I get out of here?"

He looked around the room, his eyes stopping on the window. "Are you afraid of heights?"

"Why?" I asked, warily.

"Come on." He climbed out the window, expecting me to follow.

I did, because following Stephen Davis into the unknown was my thing. We stepped out onto a section of roof that separated the bottom floor from the second. We followed it around to the side of the house that faced the one I was staying in.

Below us people were still trying to get out of Stephen's backyard as fast as possible. The ones who stripped down to their underwear to jump in the pool desperately searched for their clothes while the smokers quickly put out their blunts. Everyone running from the force that was Shontell.

"All you have to do is step out onto your roof," he said, easily.

I took one look at the space between our roofs and shook my head. "That is not a step. That's a jump. A big jump. A jump that if I miss will have me falling on that really sharp fence."

"It's not that far," he insisted, then, without warning, he leapt across to prove it. "Easy."

My bedroom window was right across, all I had to do was jump and I could be in my room before my mom realized I wasn't. My window was already wide open, exactly how I left it. But my legs refused to move.

"Waverly, I got you," he said in a calming voice. I almost forgot I wanted to slap him moments ago. "I won't let you fall. Trust me."

I kept looking down at the wooden fence below which wasn't helping, but I couldn't stop.

"Now, Waverly," he said in a stage whisper, pointing.

I followed his finger. Light flooded out onto the roof from the office. If Shontell caught me on her roof my mom would definitely lose her job.

That was all it took for me to jump.

I landed too close to the edge and started to fall backwards. Stephen grabbed a fistful of my shirt and pulled me into him with so much force that we stumbled back through my window, falling on my bed.

My eyes were shut tightly, still not convinced I hadn't fallen to my death.

"Are you okay?" Stephen whispered.

"No," I whispered back. "I'm having a heart attack."

His chest vibrated under my cheek as he laughed. "You're fine. I told you it was just a step."

I sat up, eyes open as I socked him in his arm. "I almost died!"

He laughed again, rubbing his arm. I couldn't keep my laughter in, as much I tried. My entire body was shaking with adrenaline, my heart going a hundred miles per minute.

The way he was staring up at me didn't help my racing heart at all. Could you go into cardiac arrest for being attracted to someone?

He propped himself up on his elbows, both of us sobering up from laughing. "You still mad at me?"

"Yes." Even I was convinced by that. "You saving my life changes nothing,"

He looked me in the face, eyes earnest. "For what, exactly?"

That was a good question. Why was I mad at him? Because he made me jealous? Because his friend, who wasn't even all that interesting aside from the hair, stopped talking to me because of some unspoken rule?

I didn't have a reason other than liking him not being an option. Hating him was the only alternative.

"Waverly?"

I rolled off of Stephen at the sound of my mom's voice. She stood in the doorway, but instead of being angry there was a boy in my room there was panic in her eyes.

"Mom, I-"

She cut me off. "Have you seen Stephen?"

I glanced at Stephen who was next to me, still on his back and looking as confused as I felt.

"His mom is here looking for him."

Stephen sat up with a start, already out the window before his mom appeared next to my mom.

"Nope," I said, trying not to sweat under Shontell's intense gaze.

I thought she was gonna call me out on my lie. Instead she turned on her heels and left. As soon as we heard the front door close my mom and I let out a collective breath.

My relief was short lived. My mom suddenly adopted Shontell's death glare. "What was he doing in here?"

"Nothing," I said, quickly. "We were just-"

"Talking?" She guessed my next word perfectly. "Since when do you need to sit on someone to talk to them? Do I have to remind you how important this job is?"

"No, I know. I just-"

"I get it. You like him," she said, sympathetically. "Under any other circumstance I wouldn't mind, but I need this job. Shontell Davis can open doors for my business."

I nodded. "I understand. I'll stay away from him. Promise."

She looked genuinely sorry for putting me in that situation. After she left I fell back on my bed, on the verge of tears and not knowing why. I couldn't have possibly developed strong enough feelings for Stephen to cry over not being able to be with him.

A loud thump made me jump. I looked out the window and saw Stephen walking across his roof, back to the office. Had he been out there the whole time? Did he hear what my mom said?

What I promised her?

//

Some of you thought she would leave the party, but I don't write basic wattpad girls, okay? 😂

Next chapter will be Stephens POV, how do you think he'll handle what he overheard?

(also will he ever not be on punishment???)