Lifeline

Chapter Nine

I toss my head back, downing what's probably my tenth scotch since I got here—five of those after leaving a nosy Violet outside. I can see her by the fire, and I catch myself looking out the door to where she's sitting more often than I'd like to admit. I grab the waist of some girl from school, who's standing with her back to me. She's definitely positioned herself this way on purpose. The way she's leaning over the kitchen island, her ass sticking out in that "can you imagine what it's like to fuck me" kind of way. I swing her around to face me and pull her in even though I'm usually not the type to hook up at parties.

Reggie's leaning against the counter with one of the team's cheerleaders hanging off him. He takes a drag from a joint, then blows the smoke into her mouth. She loves it. If I didn't know better, I'd think it was a dick in her mouth. Shit like that annoys the hell out of me—like when chicks in porn act like they're cumming from blowing someone off. It's all an act, fake shit. But Reggie doesn't care; he just wants to wet his dick, and by the way this girl's acting, she wants to be the one to do it. Him and Ted are polar opposites. How they are twins is beyond me.

The cheerleader passes the joint to the girl in front of me. Cool—apparently they're friends. She takes a hit, staring at me like it's supposed to mean something.

"It's a joint, not a cock," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm and a hint of douchebag charm.

The girl chokes, and Reggie snickers as he heads toward the staircase, the cheerleader trailing closely behind.

I shake my head.

"How about we go upstairs too?" the girl who I forgot was in front of me suggests. I'm about to tell her "maybe later," even though it's a lie—there won't be a later, not for her. I hate lying, but sparing her feelings with a little white lie doesn't seem so bad. I glance out the door and see Violet with Ted now. They're talking and laughing, looking way too comfortable. It makes me angry—why the hell is Ted talking to her? She's not one of us. I'm so pissed that I find myself nodding at the girl and following her upstairs.

What in the living fuck am I doing? I don't screw around at parties. The only girl I mess with isn't here. I might not care much about Lexi, but I respect her, and we've got an understanding. She comes when I call, and leaves when we're done. It's simple, easy. I made it clear that's all it'll ever be, and she's fine with it. But Lexi isn't here, or if she is, I haven't seen her.

I know what this girl wants. It's not about the sex; she wants people to know she's had sex with me. The whole popular, brooding, football captain thing gets some girls riled up. She wants to say she slept with me and climb the social ladder. You'd think this high school bullshit would stay in high school, but it's worse in college. People are older, money matters more, and everyone's desperate to make connections, to fill their lives with some sort of meaning. The girls are looking for their first husband; the guys want status to get whoever they want and to make connections.

"I'm getting another drink," I tell her, leaving her on the stairwell. The click-clack of her heels sets me on edge as she runs after me. Regret. Instant fucking regret.

On my way out, I spot Cass chatting with Mila. I smack his drink out of his hand as I head to the door, but then I see Violet coming inside. I grab the little blonde who's been trailing me all night and pull her against me. I don't want Violet to know she's gotten under my skin. She struts past me in her little black dress, with that stupid blue streak in her bouncy brown hair, thinking she belongs in our group. She doesn't. She doesn't know us. I don't like how she's weaselling her way into our group, into our lives. So effortlessly. I know nothing about her, yet she's everywhere I go—the bus, the field, school, Clara's, this damn party. E V E R Y W H E R E. And it's pissing me off. Usually, Clara gets over her new friends quickly, but this girl is sticking.

I know I sound like a dick—I usually don't give a crap about girls. But something about her screams trouble.

I also hate how, as soon as she locks eyes with me, I want to push blondie away, like I'm doing something wrong. Like I'm betraying Violet somehow, which is ridiculous because I just met her. And even though the times I've been with her have been intense, really intense—like there's this magnetic pull between us that I constantly have to resist. Or like now, put something (or someone) between us. But I don't believe in that instant attraction shit. I probably just think she's hot. Like the way her eyes light up when she reads, or how she sticks her tongue out when she's focused on something. The other day, I walked past the fountain outside the girls' dorm, and she was so absorbed in whatever she was reading that it was like the world didn't exist. But then when she's around us, she's different. Ted put his lunch tray next to her, and she jumped so damn high. The same thing happened when the cafeteria door slammed, and the other day, when a girl screamed outside. It was just a girl and a guy messing around, but I saw her—Violet. I don't think anyone else noticed because they weren't watching her, but I was. The fear on her face when that scream echoed through the cafeteria made my skin crawl. Something about that moment made me want to run to her and tell her everything would be okay. Which is bullshit because I don't even like her. So maybe I just need to get laid.

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