Forgotten (Falls Elite #1)

13

Lex

The cold night air was already starting to seep through my hoodie by the time Eliz and Colin pulled up in front of my house. I climbed into the back seat of Colin's car, tugging my sleeves down to cover my hands, and we sped off toward the bonfire.

The drive was filled with the sound of music, and Colin and Eliz's chatter mixed with the occasional laugh. I stayed quiet, staring out the window, watching the familiar streets blur by. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy their company—I did—but I was already feeling a little on edge. The idea of showing up at a party where I barely knew anyone, knowing that he would be there, had my stomach twisted in knots.

By the time we arrived at the beach, I could see the glow of the bonfire flickering in the distance. The smell of burning wood and the sound of laughter filled the air. After what felt like an eternity of circling around for a parking spot, we finally found one a good ten-minute walk away from the fire.

Colin and Eliz ran off immediately, eager to grab drinks and join the crowd. I found myself standing there, alone, feeling the chill of the wind bite at my skin. Wrapping my hoodie tighter around me, I made my way toward the fire, hoping the heat would chase away the goosebumps crawling up my arms.

As I approached the massive bonfire, I held my hands out toward the flames, feeling the warmth wash over me. The ice in my veins slowly began to melt, and I let out a quiet sigh of relief. The fire crackled and hissed, casting an orange glow across the beach. I could hear the distant sound of waves lapping against the shore, mixing with the conversations and music that filled the night air.

I scanned the beach, trying to pick out familiar faces, but most of the people here were just acquaintances. Faces I'd seen in the halls, names I didn't care to remember. I recognized a few people from my classes, but no one I felt compelled to talk to. It was like I was a ghost drifting through a world that didn't really see me.

As my gaze drifted, it landed on a sand dune a little further from the bonfire. Perched on top of it were four chairs, and occupying them were the so-called "Princes of Fallback High."

There they were. Seven Hart, with his boy-next-door charm, sat at the center of the group. Two girls flanked him, both vying for his attention, giggling and throwing themselves at him. He seemed to revel in it, grinning like the cocky ass he was.

Next to him sat Rome Astor. Dark, brooding, with his usual scowl fixed on his face. He didn't pay attention to the people around him, his eyes locked onto something—or someone—down below. I followed his gaze and spotted Eliz dancing beside a visibly uncomfortable Colin. I made a mental note to ask her about that later.

Drew Solace sat on the other side of Seven, rigid and straight-backed, his eyes glued to his phone. A girl, trying her best to get his attention, practically threw herself at him, but he didn't even look up. Typical Drew. The rumors about him were endless—about how he never let anyone close, how no one had ever seen him with a girl. The untouchable one. I wasn't surprised he ignored the attention.

And then there was Tate Bell. Leaning back in his chair, cigarette or joint—I couldn't tell which—dangling from his fingers. His eyes were closed like he didn't have a care in the world, completely detached from everything around him. He looked so calm, so relaxed, like the chaos around him didn't even register. I couldn't help but scoff at the sight of him.

He was the most self-absorbed, arrogant, and downright infuriating person I'd ever met. The way he acted like the world should revolve around him drove me insane. I couldn't stand him, and yet, there he was, sitting like he owned the place, completely oblivious to the fact that I was even here.

Shaking my head, I turned away from the fire and decided to take a walk along the beach. The sand crunched under my shoes as I made my way toward the water. I crouched down by the edge of the shore, stretching out my hand to touch the waves as they rolled in. The water was freezing, a stark contrast to the warmth of the fire behind me, but it grounded me. The cold seeped into my fingertips, a reminder that I was still here, still alive, despite everything.

I sighed and stared out at the endless horizon, the dark ocean stretching out into infinity. The soft hum of music and laughter drifted from the bonfire, but out here, it felt distant, like I was in my own world. A shadow among the light.

After a while, I started walking again, moving around the edges of the party like a ghost. No one noticed me, no one tried to talk to me, and I didn't mind. I preferred it that way. I wasn't exactly a social butterfly, and the people at Fallback High didn't know me—or, at least, they didn't care to know the real me.

Teachers already had me pegged as a troublemaker, a lost cause. The whispers about me spread like wildfire through the halls. I'd overheard enough conversations, even from the teachers, to know what they thought. I was a problem to be dealt with, not a person to be understood.

I was lost in my thoughts when I rounded a corner and froze. Voices reached my ears, carried on the wind, and one of them was unmistakable. Tate.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I crept closer, peeking around the corner. Tate was leaning against a wall, his head tilted slightly as he talked to someone. I squinted, trying to make out the other figure. It was a short guy, someone familiar... Colin?

No, not Colin. Colleen Smith. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. Colleen was one of the last people I'd expect to see with Tate, but there they were, standing way too close for comfort, and their conversation sent a chill down my spine.

"The teachers all hate her," Colleen was saying, his voice barely audible over the wind. "They've already marked her down as a troublemaker."

My heart stopped. Were they talking about me?

Tate's voice was low, dangerous. "That's all you've got on Lexi? I already know about that. Find me something more... personal."

I felt the blood drain from my face. They were talking about me. Tate was digging for dirt on me, and Colleen was feeding him information. I watched as Tate pushed away from the wall, his face hardening. "Come back when you've got something actually useful," he snapped.

Colleen stammered a weak, "Yes," before scurrying off in the opposite direction. Tate, looking irritated, headed back toward the bonfire, his silhouette disappearing into the crowd.

I stood there, my body frozen, my mind racing. Colleen Smith, someone I'd barely even interacted with, was working for Tate? How long had this been going on? And why was Tate so obsessed with finding something on me?

I clenched my fists, anger and fear swirling inside me. This wasn't just about teasing anymore. Tate was playing a game, and I was the target. He was dangerous—more dangerous than I'd ever realized.

The thought of him digging into my life, looking for ways to hurt me, made my skin crawl. I had to be more careful, more guarded. I couldn't trust anyone, especially not with Tate lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike.

As I walked back toward the bonfire, the flames flickering in the distance, one thing became clear: Tate Bell was not someone to be underestimated. And this game he was playing?

It was just getting started.