AMELIA

Cars crammed the street, thanks to the raging party. But the girls weave through the driveway, honking at drunk stragglers to snag a parking spot, as though they'd hit them.

"This is so out of context. I'll never host a party like this. There is a guy puking in the flowers." Rose cringes, peering through the windscreen.

Bree, engrossed in her phone, managed to glance up and add her fault-finding commentary, "I mean can't you see her house?"

"What about her house?" I snap, resisting the urge to stay silent in the face of the girls' disparagement. Despite Deeja's bratty reputation, her house is undeniably beautiful, five times larger than where I grew up.

Bree and Rose shrug off my defense, "It's average" and "Lacks space."

"Wow!" I gasped and pushed the door open, for there was no use arguing with those who clearly didn't have a good head on their shoulders.

I'm here for one person only, the aggravation of the humiliation he caused me still stirs in me like a windstorm. I gait with determination in bull force towards the entrance, where a line of access wishers forms. Even though I didn't have an invitation, which I refused, not anticipating my night would turn out like this, I had no intention of joining the queue.

But a hand in front of me stops me, a huge guy with giant arms stands there.

"Hey, where do you think you're going? Where is your invitation?" He laughs, sounding drunk.

"I thought girls have free access," someone from the line says, and I look back at the giant dude with inquisitive brows.

"Yes, but not when wearing a potato sack," he remarks, his eyes skidding over my body. His friends at the back holding canned drinks burst into laughter. "So you either have to change or show us you can be bad."

"What?" I ask confusedly, just as Bree and Rose come up the stairs, now wearing beach kimonos, flapping and exposing their bikinis.

"Hey, girls?" The group of boys playing bouncers melts at their presence, making way for the two girls.

Unbelievable.

"You gonna tell them we are together?" I call after them when they pass, acting as though they don't know me.

Bree stops and peeks up at me under her party glasses, "And you are?"

"Seriously?" I gasped. What a bitch.

"You wish," the giant guy says to me. "Go back in the line."

"What are your options again?" I ask, maybe there will be one I can consider.

"Change into something feminine like those hot girls or show us you can be bad." He repeated.

I certainly wouldn't go half-naked, so I shake my head for more explanation about the last option.

"You have to flash your tits," someone in the access wishers line clarifies, and my widened eyes go back to the group of perverts entertained by what option I'll take.

Assholes.

Since I plan on confronting Cam tonight and there's no way I'm turning back, I'll show these desperate perverts how bad I can be.

I smile all nicely at the giant dude in front of me and motion him to come closer. When he does, all excited, I muster all the strength in me and go for his balls with my knees. His eyes roll as he becomes paralyzed before he falls. Whining.

"Motherfucker. Get her," his friends yell, and I speed away in the chaos as everyone in line rushes into the house.

Panicking, knowing I'm screwed the moment those guys lay hands on me, I keep glancing back, desperately asking anyone if they've spotted Cam. People just keep pointing towards the backyard, and there when I stumble outside, in that chaotic moment, I finally find him. Sprawling on a couch with Garret and Layton, admiringly watching Harper and her unmannered friends dance for him.

"She's over there," says one of those guys chasing me from inside the house.

I'm not leaving here without doing what brought me. I dash at the biggest asshole of them all.

He spots me coming, and he immediately sits up, his smile fading.

Yes, the party is over.

"Princess?" He starts, but I don't stop until my palm collides with his cheeks and they feel hot, burning at the impact.

His eyes turn into smoldering coals, brewing anger and disbelief as he locks onto me. He shoves me back, I stumble but balance back.

The music stops, and there are gasps and mumbles.

"Oooooh!" Layton and Garret exclaim.

"Damn, now that's hell sinner bad," someone chuckles, stopping behind me. I guess it's those guys chasing after me earlier.

"What the fuck?" Cam barks.

"Oh, only you don't deserve public humiliation?" I smirk at him, and his chest forcefully rises from crackling anger as he inhales.

He rubs his chin, huffing through flared nostrils. In the next moment, while I'm feeling at the top of the world for my comeback, he yanks me by the arm, dragging me forcefully out of the scene. My bones feel like they're being crushed in his hold.

"Let go of me," I shriek, slapping every part of him that I can reach, but he doesn't stop.

"You should be ashamed of yourself for what you did. What have I ever done to you to deserve that at my job?"

He still hasn't stopped dragging me like Santa Claus's sack of presents until we're on the street in the middle of parked cars, and he slams me back against someone's vehicle.

His jaw clenches in raw frustration, a silent warning in his intense gaze, daring me to face the consequences of my impulsive action.

"Do not ever hit me." He thunders, his fist coming for me. I shrink, waiting for the blow. But then he ends up hitting the surface of the car. The car has an alarm, the shattering noise adding to my dread. Dizzy, I slip from Cam's proximity; he's famous for being psychotic when he's angry. So I run up the street, nearer to Deeja's Gate, finding Harper, her friends, and Garret and Layton coming out of it.

"What is happening?" Harper asks, her worried eyes shifting between me and her maniac boyfriend, over there cussing and pulling on his hair.

"Fucking stay out of it," I retort at her, wiping the moisture under my eyes. "I hate all of you. I wish I never came to this rotten state."

Suffocating, I dig out my phone to call a cab and get away far from here, but the battery is dead.

Fuck.