Bully stepbrother

38. Occurrence

CADEN

"You didn't get our cell phone numbers or at least our names; we can be fun." I can't tell who said that as I stride ahead, the two tails following behind me like some magnet.

"I am Brenda," one said from behind. Honestly, I can't tell them apart since I haven't spared them another look after I stepped down the staircase, fully dressed, holding up nothing but full of disgust for both of them.

Sorry, my bad, but it usually happens. At least the result is clear: Mad has claimed me, and I fucking hate the bitch for it.

I continue to push through the drunk crowd dancing on the loud floor, seeking freedom from both girls and the party entirely.

I desperately need quiet and peace. I have frustrations to settle, not some two random girls expecting happily ever after from me.

"And I am Madison; you can call me Maddy," someone among the girls proclaimed.

Okay, that got my attention. I spin around furiously.

"What the fuck?" I partially yelled, startling quite a few people around.

"What?" The girls were suddenly pale, frightened to the max from my harsh outburst.

My eyes briefly took in the environment. This isn't me.

I heave a sigh and shake my head.

Don't lose it here. Not at a party.

I swallow and step back. "I need to go."

"But you didn't..." The tall one began, but I took off without having to hear what she has to say.

I snatch a free bottle of beer from the table and shrug off some girls trying their luck.

Give me a break.

Tipsy, I stumble my way to the exit of the building, desperate for fresh air after having four girls in the last ninety minutes, and more because of having a threesome involving a girl named Madison for fucking fate's sake.

Honestly, it's not any better out here than inside; there are half-naked girls having it their way with each other on the sofa on the porch, just so they could please the drunk boys cheering for them.

By the terrace, a few people are hanging around, either talking and smoking or making out.

Empty bottles and used plastic cups are strewn about on the lawn.

Truthfully, the only difference between here and back inside is the chilling evening breeze. I can breathe properly, but my head is spinning; it's like I am about to pass out.

I have diverse anger right now.

First, I just screwed some whore called Mad. Meanwhile, the bitch back home has captured me in some insane galaxy where she's all I see, all I hear, and all I want.

A slap on my shoulder startles me, dizzy. I twirl to find a face similar to Paxton's, along with Jake and Jordan, the fraternity boys I've been dodging for no particular reason. Beside them are what look like four drunk girls giggling like babies, that's if my vision isn't messing with me. The giggles of the girls begin to sound like a lullaby in my head.

Damn! Screw me.

"Hey, man..."

***

"Good morning, handsome." I wake up to Paxton's voice and face, his hand gently slapping my cheekbone. It slightly hurts.

Through narrowed eyes, I mumble, "Hey. What's the time? Ouch..."

The sun pouring in is brutal, the sound of the TV also, and even my voice is harsh, alerting every organ in my head. I have to clench my eyes closed.