Bad Girls Go To Heaven ✔

28/ devil in the details

ADORA - 15 DAYS AGO

Misfortunes never come singly.

My mother said this to me three years ago when I crashed dad's brand-new Mercedes. It also happened to be the day she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.

I remember thinking it wasn't fair.

Tonight, as I use my fake TikTok account to send invitations to Graham's party, wait for the cab in my torn-down dorm room and stare at the lack of a wall, I think it might be fair after all.

The hour approaches midnight. The construction workers will be here the first thing in the morning, they will probably take our stuff out. Which means I can't leave Eric's drugs and gun in here.

My phone rings. Graham fucking Koch.

"What?" I answer.

"I remember telling you to come to the party." Loud music muffles his voice. "I'll assume you don't like me."

"I'm coming, asshole." I murmur.

"Hurry up, or I might start talking."

He hangs up.

Earlier today, Graham Koch called me and said he knows about me and Eric. I don't know how he found out. Maybe he saw us when we first kissed at the Druid. It doesn't matter now. He knows and if I want to keep him quiet, I have to do what he says.

The idea fills me with disgust.

Gosh, I fucked everything up.

I'm screwed either way. Knowing myself, I won't cave to Graham because he's a sleaze and whatever he wants is probably not something I'm willing to give, which means I can say bye-bye to Mark.

I hold onto my peach-coloured bag and fix my makeup in the mirror. The dress I have on is my favourite emerald silk Balmain; flowy around thighs, tight around the waist, with a plunging neckline.

I throw my makeup in the bag to cover the drugs, take a moment to laugh at the fact I have drugs and a gun in a Dior, hang a coat on my arm, and leave the half-torn-down room.

Just like Mark, Graham owns a two-story penthouse nearby, because he's too good to sleep on campus, and he's hosting all these damn parties whenever he feels like it.

The night is warm and calm, contrasting the restlessness and cold shivers spreading through my body. People confirm they'll crash the party.

Fuck it. Graham Koch wants to blackmail me?

I'll turn his party into a rager and let crashers destroy his apartment.

I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of blackmailing me, though. While there are certain lengths I'll go to if it means people won't find out about Eric, I will never, ever let myself become Graham's little toy.

Which means I have to tell Mark.

It's fine, I'm fine.

I fucked up and I have to deal with it. Tears burn in the back of my throat as the streetlights exchange before my eyes.

I just hope I can reach Mark before Graham does. If this turns into a scandal, Mark will never forgive me. That's just the way he is. If this can go away quietly, he might give me a second chance.

His reputation is what worries him the most.

I wonder whether I should tell Eric what's happening. We've never talked about what's happened and I'm scared to have that conversation now. This concerns him, too. Mark is his friend.