Summer

Chapter 35

I let Cassie know that she doesn't have to pick me up from Zachary's. I lied and told her that Howard was going to get me, when really, Justin was taking me to some kid's house. I can't even tell you the name of the kid. Or how many parties I've been to since stepping foot in Charleston; I stopped counting after the second one.

When we pull up, I notice that this house is not as big as the rest of the houses that I've been to so far, but it's still just as beautiful with its lush landscaping and stucco exterior.

"This way," Justin says, stopping me from walking towards the front door. Instead, he guides me to the backyard where people are scattered around a Roman-styled swimming pool in their bathing suits.

Club music plays in the background and there are empty bottles of vodka and tequila abandoned on the counter of the wooden ramada bar, which explains why there isn't a single soul here who isn't drunk. My instincts tell me that I should leave, but I try to push them inside. I'm here to find Noah, and that's it.

"Wow, I didn't realize this was a party," Justin says, and I don't know who looks more uncomfortable — me or him. "Uh, maybe we should head out and come back later?"

"Whose house is this?" I ask.

"Greg's older brother's best friend. I think his name is Michael," he says, and I immediately feel out of place. "The text I got at coffee was from Greg. I reached out to him this morning to see if he had heard from Noah, but he hadn't answered me until we were at Zachary's. In his text, he said that Noah had called him around noon asking him what he was up to, so he invited him to Michael's."

"Justin!" I hear a voice call out from behind us, and Justin and I both turn around. Funny enough, it's Greg and he's wobbling in his bright red swim shorts holding an almost-empty bottle of Don Julio.

His dirty blonde hair is disheveled and he's sweating a little above his upper lip. It's safe to say that he's not sober. At all. I look at Justin, who appears just as uneasy as me, but meets Greg's stance.

"Hey man. I didn't know this was a party," Justin says to him, but Greg ignores him when his eyes land on me.

"Sophia!" he exclaims. "Welcome!" He moves past Justin and comes in for a hug, so I gently pat him on the back.

Yup, he's sweating. And reeks of tequila.

"Hey," I say, unamused.

"Don't be shy," Greg says as he takes my hand and nods at Justin, "come join the party." I don't know why but my feet start to follow, so I'm thankful when Justin intervenes.

"Look dude, we're here for Noah. Have you seen him?"

Greg tilts his head as if he's trying to process Justin's question, and something tells me that we're going to be here for a while.

"You mean Charleston's most eligible bachelor?" Greg jokes, but it's not funny. I can't tell if Justin's expressionless expression is because he's embarrassed by his friend's drunken behavior or because he knows it's true. Noah is in fact Charleston's most eligible bachelor. "He's in-inside," Greg slurs his words this time.

"How old is Greg's brother?" I ask Justin as we make our way towards the sliding doors that lead to the inside of the house.

"He just graduated from the University of Miami, so, 21, I think."

Justin lets me walk in first, and the house reeks of weed, combined with alcohol, combined with other drugs that I don't even want to know about.

I don't see Cecilia and her minions, which thrills me to say the least. In fact, I don't see anyone here that I recognize. Everyone looks older than us.

It looks like I spoke too soon because, seconds later, I spot Samantha and a few other girls standing in a corner with drinks in their hands. It's weird, I don't think I've ever seen them without their ringleader. I almost feel relieved that Cecilia isn't here until I see something from across the room that makes me wish I had listened to my instincts in the first place.

Noah. Sitting on the brown leather couch with Cecilia draped over him.

As much as I want to turn away and forget what I'm seeing, I can't stop looking at the way she's sitting on his lap. She has one hand behind his head and the other right below his belly button. Why is her barely clothed chest pressed against his naked torso? And why are his hands placed on her bare thighs?

The only articles of clothing he has on are a pair of black shorts and his favorite backwards black hat. His tattoos are on full display, and he's wearing that thin, silver chain necklace that he always wears. Noah looks too out of it to even realize that she's sitting on top of him. He seems past the point of intoxicated, which makes sense because he's holding a drink in one hand and a joint in the other. I don't even recognize him. Don't get me wrong, he's still gorgeous, but he looks like a mess. His hair is unkempt, and he can barely keep his eyes open. That is, until he sees me staring from across the room in complete and utter disgust.

His eyes widen and I can tell that he's more shocked than shameful to see me. When Cecilia's eyes follow and land on me all she does is smirk with her pompous attitude.

I need to get out of here. I can't believe I actually fooled myself into thinking that Noah and I could work. He's fire. I'm ice. Together, they don't work. They can't work.

I guess I needed this wake-up call to get over Noah, and now that I'm awake, I'm really done. That's why I turn my icy glare away from him and run towards the door as fast as I can.