Lightning Strike (Billionaire Boys Club #3) | ongoing

Chapter 3

                   Alora:

The hall is full. Loud and hot and illuminated just enough by pulsing lightbulbs as they come on and off in time to the music. High tables line the edges of the space, leaving the remaining room open, free to fit the crowds of teenagers that are filling it as they dance or talk or show off whatever expensive item they currently have on them. Or items. The rest of the attendees that aren't in this area are off in some of the other rooms in the floor of the hotel.

I'm not a casual party thrower. In the sense of modesty and period. But when I do occasionally decide to host one, they're always consistent with two principles. One: they are always equally extravagant and unrestrained. Two: they are never held at my house.

Both are what they have become renowned for.

Despite me being a junior, it means that not only does everyone who hears about it come, but it also means that it's less of a party per se and more of an event. People anticipate it before it happens and process it after.

They're probably one of the reasons why I think I've become acclaimed the most popular girl in school. Because the first time I threw one, on high encouragement from my friends while they were dragging me out of my pit of grief, at the beginning of freshmen year mind you, I was suddenly approached twice as much in school, talked about in a good way and constantly propositioned.

However, it also meant that I was intercepting the middle of the venn diagram where I resided on one side and Madden did the other. Making it ten times harder to keep my distance.

He's also never come to one of my parties. Not a single one. Ever.

So why in the hell is he here now?

"Are you sure It's him?" I ask Lina, who just ran up to me to relay the news.

"Well, I was no longer dry when I saw him. So yes. I'm sure."

"Girl, ew." I shove her but she just laughs, tipsy from alcohol.

I, on the other hand, as always, am fully sober.

And in turn, fully sane.

"Ew? Are you kidding? Go and look at him!"

"I will be doing nothing of the sort. He's gross."

"He's gorgeous."

"He's ghastly. And he better stay far, far away from me."

"I seriously don't understand how you can't want that man on top of you. Even for just a minute."

"The only thing I want on top of me is my blanket."

"What, so you're not hooking up with anyone tonight?"

"I'm not planning on it, no."

"Why not?"

"I don't feel like it." I shrug.

"Oh, come on." She wraps an arm around my back, then leans to whisper in my ear. "Maybe you and Voldemort could try it. I've heard hate sex is unmatched."

"Oh my god." I push her away, pointing my finger at her. "I will never, in my entire life, touch, or be touched, by a senseless, arrogant, waste of oxygen asshole like him."

"Whatever you say..." She sings and then twirls away, leaving me.

I brush my hair over my shoulders, exhaling, when she reappears. "Are you sure you don't want me to have hate sex with him for you-?"

"Lina!"

"Okay." And she's gone again.

I wholeheartedly cannot comprehend how on earth anyone would want to be with that prick. I also admit when I first saw him he wasn't hideous but once he opened his mouth? Beastly. Does no one else see it? Or did he only save that behaviour for me. In which case, fuck him.