Nineteen

Chapte Ninety-Three

My blood sort of runs warm as I sit beside of Mac. Collins eyes fix on me and he has no intentions of moving them.
The boy in the middle hands out a card, face down, to everyone who is playing.
Collin places his hand on his, without moving his eyes.
I shift closer to Mac.
"Just one round, right?" I whisper to him.
"Yeah, it's totally innocent," he whispers back, only inches from my ear. I swear I can see Collin tense.
"Okay," says the boy, "flip the cards and reveal your fate for the round," I nervously turn mine over.
Three. Oh god.
I glance at Mac and he is holding a king. Of course.
Everyone throws their card out onto the floor in front of them and I take a second to scan theirs.
Of course.
I throw mine down.
I have the lowest card.
I hear a few shouts and a few laughs. "Which will it be, honey?" I flinch at the sound of him calling me honey. He's dirty and a little wired.
"Your friend there has the highest card," he says again. I look over to see Mac actually holds the highest one of the round.
"Drink, undress, or kiss," the dirty boy says.
Collins eyes have turned to stone, daring me to choose the first or last option.
I look at Mac, his eyes have eased off from what they were a few minutes ago.
I look back at Collin and he's still staring at me with stone eyes.
And I don't like it.
I turn to Mac. "Is it okay?" He shakes his head, telling me he's fine.
He cups his hands over my cheeks and I do the same to him. Obviously more than the game intends, he presses his lips to mine.
It's not bad. He's warm and his lips are soft. I think I might actually enjoy it, until he's ripped from me.
His body hits the ground behind the couch we're sitting on. I'm knocked back from the hit.
I hear multiple girls shout and a few boys stand to help. Mac is hit in the face twice before his attacker is pulled from him.
"What the hell, Collin?" Clark shouts. I look up from where I sit to see Clark holding Collins arms behind him. His eyes are black and he's breathing like a wild animal.
Once again, my night is ruined as a result of Collin Kennedy and his actions.
I stand from and run out of the room. I run until I'm outside, letting the cool air hit and cleanse me.
Why do I keep coming here? It's never anything good at the end of the night.
I walk down the steps right before I get sick.
Everywhere. I throw up all in the bushes.
The results of the last few days hit me all at once and I vomit until I can't anymore.
My throat is on fire as I raise up and continue to walk. I'm dizzy and I can barely see straight.
I find a rock wall at the end of the yard and brace myself against it, letting the cool air try to calm me for a second.
"Emory!" A voice breaks through the night.
"Emory, where did you go?"
I decide to say nothing. I'm afraid if I do, I'll end up sick and dry heaving, and my throat can't handle that.
I slide against the wall until I'm on the ground, allowing myself a few minutes to come back to normal.
"There you are," he says. Mac's face is already swollen and starting to bruise.
"I'm sorry," I say.
He looks confused for a moment. "Its not your fault, it's his," he says as he nods back to the house.
"We shouldn't have came here," I say as I close my eyes.
"If I can't handle a punch from a drunk college kid, I shouldn't be pursuing a career as a police officer," he smiles and says.
I smile back, but my stomach tells me to take it easy; smiling is the only thing I should do.
"Do you want to go home?" He asks as he props against the wall.
"I got sick. Everywhere in those bushes. I'm trying to cool off before I go anywhere."
"Are you okay? Did you drink too much?"
"I think it's just my nerves from the last few days catching up with me. Tonight was the night that set it all together," I say as I lean my head against the wall.