BEING HALSEY

CHAPTER 20

TRAY

"Can't say" by Travis Scott blasts from my speakers and I sing along the lyrics.

My room is filled with smoke, high clouds. I'm so damn high I can't even open my eyes wide.

It's her. She's the one doing this to me. I know she didn't mean what she said, she just got angry I laughed at her.

********

" Hey man, you coming?"

Reckless, my roommate, shouts over the loud music.

" Where?" I ask and drop my burnt blunt on the table.

"A house party. Come let's go."

He grabs his coat and we walk out.

Becca's husband, Trent Arnold, lend me his car. It's a black Jeep he bought but never got time to drive so he gave me as a gift.

I start the engine and it only takes us thirty minutes before we reach the house.

We head to the kitchen and pour ourselves cold drinks. One good thing about house parties is liquor here flows like water. It's everywhere. Like right now the fridge alone is filled with all kinds.

Reckless is busy explaining how the girls are too skinny when I notice him. Hal's so called boyfriend.....Dave!

God knows how I hate him.

He's dancing, with a Blondie. She's in fishnet stockings, if that's what they are called and the top she's wearing is enough for everyone to see her open chest.

Dave whispers something to her ear and she throws her head back and laugh. A guy comes and Dave hands him his cellphone. He turns and grabs her hand . They walk toward the stairs and up to a room.

One thing is for sure, no man walks with a girl to a room to go play dress up dolls. That's a Fact!

I immediately get an idea.

I know that if I call Hal and tell her the truth, that her good for nothing boyfriend is busy burying himself to some chick, she won't believe me. So i walk to the guy that Dave left his phone with and lie that Dave sent me to pick it.

The guy is dumb enough to believe my story.

I scroll his contacts and text Hal. I text her the address and she replies instantly.

That makes me grit my teeth.

A few minutes later, I spot her. She's so beautiful. Her hair, her eyes, her skin. My eyes trail down to the jeans she's wearing. The black ripped jeans she has on makes me hot.

I swallow.

Then I text her,

" I'm inside the house. In the room near the bathroom."

I hate doing this to her but she has to know the truth. No matter how bitter it is, it's for her own good.

I'm trying to help her.

I watch closely as she walks up the stairs. I try my best to stop myself from reaching over and grabbing her arm to stop her from witnessing the horrible act.

She opens the door and lights the room.

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HALSEY