Ranked

Chapter 6

SKYE

The next night was no different. This weekend was filled with parties, and I wanted to go to as many as I could.

This one was held at a football player's from a different school, named Rob Keating. His home was no ordinary home, either. His pool took up most of the huge backyard, so everyone had shown up in swimsuits and the barest amount of clothing over them.

I had told my friends that I would try not to wander away from them too much, like last night. Especially poor Ellie. But, I had left her in Asher's company, and Asher was known to be good company. So, maybe I was doing her a favor after all.

Ellie had an awful party experience her freshman year, and made a point to go to as few parties as she could. She also didn't want any discriminating pictures or videos of her going around because it would ruin her chances of getting into her future school. Or so she said.

As I looked around the backyard, I felt bad as I realized I had broken my promise, and had already strayed away. My eyes swept the expansive yard, looking for each of them. I felt a surge of relief wash over me as I saw Ellie standing on the patio, talking to Asher.

The rest of my friends were already in the pool, laughing and talking with a group of boys.

I wandered into the kitchen, feeling at ease. All of my friends looked like they were having a good time. I was glad that I could talk them into a weekend of partying with me.

I filled up a red solo cup with a strong-smelling liquor and raised it to my lips. But not before pulling a pill out of my pocket, and popping it into my mouth. I probably didn't even need a
liquid to help the pill go down smoother, but I did anyway.

The liquor burned my throat, but I filled up another cup anyway.

"And what was that, Skye? It certainly didn't look like your birth control prescription," a voice said. I nearly jumped, but pulled myself together. I spun around and found Brock standing there, a sly smile on his handsome face.

"It's an anxiety pill. It helps calm me," I said smoothly, practicing the well-rehearsed lie.

"I'm not your dad, Skye. Unlike your dad, I'm not oblivious. You can't expect me to believe that shit just because you say so," he said mockingly.

I felt my cheeks burn up and I narrowed my eyes, glaring at the infuriating boy in front of me.

"Yeah, obviously you're not him. I don't fck my own dad," I said, ignoring the rest of his commentary.

"Well, I hope you wouldn't. That would only add to his list of shady dealings, wouldn't it? And hm, funny I remember you calling me daddy. You are daddy's little girl, aren't you?" Brock said innocently, the teasing glint in his eyes dangerous.

"My dad doesn't have any shady dealings. Business or personal," I said cautiously, trying to throw him off any trail that he thinks he may have. He gave me a condescending look, and I nearly lost it as I felt myself getting more annoyed and frustrated. Why couldn't he just fck me and then mind his own business like every other guy before him?

"Skye, do you even know how your dad earns his money?" Brock inquired, looking genuinely curious. I had no clue, but he didn't need to know that. All I knew was that my dad was a very busy man.

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. I realized it was the wrong move a moment later when Brock's eyes followed my movement, mesmerized by the way my boobs were nearly spilling out of my bikini top.

"You're a dog," I retorted, uncrossing my arms.

"Ooh one of your purebred, pedigree, award-winning dogs?" Brock laughed.

"No, a mutt," I said, grabbing a bottle of vodka and turning away from him. Just then, Rob Keating stepped into the kitchen, oblivious of what had just happened.

"Hey guys," Rob said, a charming smile crossing his face as he looked at us.

I glanced to Brock, then back to Rob and the vodka bottle in my hand, slowly getting an idea.

"Hey Rob, great party," I said, letting a seductive smirk settle on my face.

I held the bottle up to my chest, holding it in front of my cleavage.

"Any way you could slip away and help me drink this?" I asked, putting a megawatt smile on my face.

"As if you need help drinking that," I heard Brock scoff. But, I ignored him.

Rob had his eyes trained on the bottle of vodka and my cleavage.

"Yeah sure," Rob said, smirking as he finally met my eyes.

"Perfect, lead the way," I said, winking while returning the smirk. As he led the way out of the kitchen, I smirked at Brock as I passed. He raised an eyebrow and watched us as I followed Rob out, swinging my hips slightly.

Rob led me to his room, which looked completely different from Brock's room. Rob's room was scattered with dirty laundry, empty bottles, and other miscellaneous items. He sat on his bed, opening the bottle of vodka.

Before he took the first sip, he raised the bottle in a toast-like manner, but it seemed more mocking than anything.

"To you, Skye," he said, keeping his eyes trained on me as he tipped the bottle backwards, guzzling some of the liquor down. He handed it wordlessly to me afterwards.

I closed my eyes and drank, tipping my head back. I tried to tell myself that it was Brock's fault. He had scared me last night with the talk of the future and not knowing what he wanted, and tonight with the instigations about my father.

I tried to tell myself that Brock had done this to himself. He had practically drove me into another boy's room.

I just had to live in the moment, like I always did. So after finishing the bottle, I didn't think. I just did. I climbed onto Rob's lap and he placed his hands on my waist. They felt different from Brock's.

Rob's hands gripped me harshly and roughly. He gripped me as if I was a football. Brock had never handled me like this. I shook my head and forced myself to push Brock to the back of my mind.

Soon, both of our clothes were strewn among the other laundry on his floor.

After we were done, I turned on my side to look at him. He merely stood up and disposed of the condom, while pulling his shirt on and over his head. He slid his swim shorts back on and started towards the door, but not before grabbing my breast and spanking my ass.

"There's a bathroom over there if you need to freshen up," he said, walking out the door and closing it behind him.

I glared at the door, running my hand over my throbbing butt cheek.

Somehow, I found myself thinking about Brock again. It was different when Brock was rough; it was pleasurable. But with Rob.. Well it just hurt. I laid in bed for 20 more minutes, thinking about how I felt even duller than before. And how I didn't even think that was possible, until now.

I sighed as I looked at my butt, which still had a red handprint branded onto my skin. At first, getting with different guys each night had been fun. But, they all ended the same way.

Except with.... Brock. I screwed my eyes shut, willing myself to not think about the boy downstairs. I would have to slip out the front door to avoid him, his instigations, and doing a walk of shame in front of the rest of the partygoers in the backyard.

I pushed myself up and put my bikini back on. I made sure to fix my hair, making sure that nothing was out of place. After all, I had to maintain some sense of control, even if it was just an act.

Before I left Rob's room, a little baggy with white powder caught my eye on his nightstand. I slipped it in my bikini top, savoring my little party favor. As I left Rob's house through the front door, I couldn't decide if the burning of my skin was from his rough hands or the bag rubbing against it. I decided that I didn't care, I would try to use them both to ease my dullness anyway.