Nine

The journey to Jeremy's house was short. He lived on the west side, where the houses were massive, modern fortresses of glass and stone.

I'd heard Tom drone on about Jeremy's 'legendary' parties, but this was the first time any of us had actually been invited.

We sat in the car for a moment, going over the plan. Since we only had one car, someone had to be the designated driver.

That person was yours truly.

And I didn't mind; I preferred having my wits about me, especially in a house full of people who viewed me as a target.

The moment we stepped inside, the bass from the speakers hit me in the chest, vibrating through my bones.

The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and cheap beer. I turned to say something to Michael, but he was already gone, swallowed by the sea of dancing bodies.

Great, I thought, a spike of anxiety hitting me. I began pushing through the crowd, careful to keep my casted left arm tucked close to my chest so no one would jostle it.

I finally reached the kitchen, which had been converted into a makeshift bar.

New mission: find a soda.

I'd been staying away from sugar for Coach, but tonight felt like a 'Dr. Pepper' kind of night.

"Didn't think I'd find you here, freak." The voice was eerily recognizable.

I let out a long sigh before turning around with a fake smile plastered on my face. "Hey, Margaux. Why are you here? I thought you were allergic to people like me."

"You think you're so smart." She didn't move. She was dressed in something expensive that made her look even more like the queen she claimed to be.

"I don't think I am. I just know." I spotted a Dr. Pepper can in the back of the fridge. Score.

"Cocky much?"

"I take pride in what I'm good at," I retorted, shutting the fridge and popping the tab with my good hand. "You should try it. Wait—what are you good at besides bullying?"

I knew I'd struck a nerve, but I felt strangely confident tonight.

Maybe it was the outfit, or maybe I was just tired of being small.

However, Margaux didn't budge; she just watched me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

I poured the soda into a solo cup and sat on a barstool.

To my surprise, Margaux didn't walk away. She hopped up on the counter, sitting awfully close to me.

"I didn't know you drank," she commented, eyeing my drink.

"You don't know a lot about me, considering you spend most of your time shoving me into metal objects," I replied, taking a sip. "And it's soda."

She just hummed, her eyes following the movement of my throat as I swallowed. It made me nervous. She was being...weird.

"There you are, Margaux!" A girl I didn't recognize rushed up. "The others want to play some party games."

"I'll be there. Tell them I'm coming," Margaux said, not even looking at her.

"But they said—"

"Do not make me repeat myself, Tiffany," Margaux growled.

The girl flinched and scurried off.

"You didn't have to be a bitch about it," I noted, humming a bit at my drink.

"No one tells me what to do," Margaux said, sliding off the counter. "Follow me."

I considered staying, but sitting alone in a kitchen was boring. Besides, I knew if I didn't follow, she'd find a way to make me pay for it at school.

I ran my fingers over the burner phone through my pocket, the weight of it a small comfort. If this goes south, I'm going to have to call Marcus, I thought.

We ended up in the library, a quiet sanctuary filled with the school's "elite."

They were lounging on grey chairs arranged in a circle, looking like they owned the place.

Ethan, the star quarterback, sat next to Victor, the team's wide receiver. Richard, the arrogant Student Council Rep, was nursing a beer beside Vincent, the Council's Vice President.

Tucked in the corner was Flynn, a fast-talker from the soccer team.

"Took you long enough," Ethan mused, his eyes tracking Margaux as she pulled me down to sit beside her.

"Yeah? Well, I had other important things to attend to," Margaux retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Like what?" Richard asked, dropping an empty bottle to the floor.

"My business is my business, Richard. Stay out of it." Margaux flashed a fake smile.

Richard's gaze flickered to me, sizing me up with a sneer. "I thought I smelled something foul. What's she doing here, Margaux? You know we don't let anyone outside the circle join us."

I didn't speak. I knew I smelled fine.

I knew it, so why was I sneaking a sniff at my clothes?

"I brought her because I wanted to," Margaux said, checking her nails. "And you smell like you haven't showered since the last pep rally. Fix that before you talk to me."

The room went quiet. Margaux had a way of setting people on fire without breaking a sweat.

"You should have consulted us first," Jack spoke up from across the room, his arm around his girlfriend, Karma.

"Since when are you the boss of me?" Margaux shot back.

Heather, the cheer co-captain and Margaux's best friend, spoke up to break the tension. "Alright, let's all calm down, yeah?"

We both sat down, Flynn suggested a game of 'Never Have I Ever.'

Everyone picked up a cup I could tell contained something alcoholic. I looked at the beer in my own cup. I'd only tried alcohol once, and it ended badly.

"Just take little sips so you don't get drunk fast," Margaux mumbled to me, not even looking my way.

"Never have I ever...fingered myself," Flynn said with a smirk. Every girl but me drank.

"What's up, blackie?" Richard sneered at me. "Scared to touch yourself? I could give you lessons."

I felt my stomach turn. I reached for the burner phone in my pocket, my thumb hovering over the button to call Marcus. I was done with this.

"Trust me," Margaux interjected with a snicker, casting a side-eye at me. "You don't want to go there."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Let's continue," I said, giving Margaux a silent warning look.

The game continued.

"Never have I ever not had sex," Ethan said. Everyone drank—except me—again.

"Wait, you're a virgin too?" Richard exclaimed dramatically. Margaux looked genuinely shocked before masking it.

I just shrugged my shoulders, feeling heat creeping up my neck from embarrassment.

Victor rubbed his palms together when his turn came, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Never have I ever...eaten food."

The circle went dead silent. Everyone just stared at him, cups frozen halfway to their mouths.

"Victor," Ethan said, sounding physically pained. "You have to eat food to stay alive. We all eat food. Every day."

"Wait, really?" Victor blinked, looking genuinely confused. "I thought this was like...a trick question thing."

"Oh my god, you're such a 'never had'—as in, you've never had a functioning brain cell in your life," Margaux snapped, her head shaking in pure disapproval.

She leaned forward, her emerald eyes narrowing at him. "I guess being flung around that football field and getting your head hammered into the dirt has officially ruined any chance you ever had at being the smartest person in the room—not that the bar was ever high for you to begin with."

Victor opened his mouth to retort, but he just ended up looking like a confused goldfish.

The guys roared with laughter, the library suddenly feeling less like a morgue and more like a circus.

I almost felt a flicker of pity for the boy; he looked like a kicked puppy. But I quickly pushed the feeling away. Victor hadn't been actively cruel to me yet, but you are the company you keep.

Anyone who sat comfortably in a circle with people like Richard and Ethan didn't deserve an ounce of my sympathy.

"Remington, I think it's your turn?" Heather prompted. The frantic, wide-eyed look she gave me made my heart skip a beat.

I was desperately racking my brain, trying to find a question that wouldn't get me crucified or reveal too much.

"Uhm, never have I ever...received head?" I asked, my voice a little higher than usual.

The room went quiet for a split second before every single person took a sip from their cup.

Except Margaux.

She sat there, her cup still resting on her knee, as she raised a perfectly arched brow at me. I couldn't help the look of pure surprise that crossed my face. The Margaux Dubois? Really?

I quickly looked away, my face heating up under her hard, unreadable gaze. The silence was becoming suffocating until Richard broke it with a bark of laughter.

"Damn, Margaux? Seriously?" Richard's voice cut through the silence, his eyes darting between us. "Our resident ice queen is a gold-star innocent? Now, that's surprising."

Margaux didn't even blink. "Unlike you, I have standards."

"Alright, enough of this," Vincent, the VP, announced as he stood up. He grabbed an empty beer bottle from the floor and cleared a space on the low coffee table. "Never Have I Ever is for middle schoolers. Let's play Spin the Bottle, but with a real twist."

He looked around the circle, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "Whoever the top of the bottle points to gets to ask the person at the bottom a choice: 'Dare or Kiss.' You either do the dare, or you kiss anyone of the person's choice. No backing out, or you take the forfeit."

The room hummed with a new, dangerous energy.

"I'll start," Vincent said, crouching over the table.

I watched the bottle spin, the glass catching the dim light of the library.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I tried to focus all my mental energy on the bottle, wishing it away from me. Don't land on me. Don't land on me.

The bottle slowed, its momentum dying with a series of light clicks against the wood. It finally groaned to a halt.

The top was pointing straight at Jack, who was already rubbing his palms together like a housefly. The bottom? It was pointing directly at me.

So much for hoping it wouldn't.

"This should be interesting," Jack said, his eyes shining with mischief. "Alvarez, dare or kiss?"

"Dare," I said instantly. There was no way I was letting him pick someone for me to kiss.

"Okay, wait," Vincent interrupted. "Before we go further—you can't dare someone to kiss anyone. Dares have to be actions. And if you fail, the forfeit is chugging an entire bottle of the hard stuff in the kitchen. If I were you, l'd do the dare."

Jack pouted for a second, then his face split into a dirty smirk. He'd clearly found a loophole. "Fine. I dare you to give Margaux a hickey."

The room exploded.

"Dude!" Flynn laughed, leaning back. "You're trying to get the girl killed."

"D-do I have to?" I asked, my eyes begging.

"You could always forfeit and take the punishment," Jack smugly challenged.

I looked at Margaux, expecting her to slap him or roast his ass, but she just grabbed my arm and pulled me into a secluded corner of the library.

"We don't have to do this," I whispered. "I can just—I don't know, pinch your neck?"

"And what if I want it?" she challenged. Her pupils were dilated, her breath smelling slightly of vodka. She was definitely not sober.

"Margaux, you're drunk."

She snorted. "I'm not. And besides, I've seen the way you stare at me in class, you're not as subtle as you think."

My stomach did a somersault. "I—"

What was happening?

"Just give me the damn love bite, Remington." She looped her arms around my neck, pulling me down in line with her neck.

I scoffed at her bossiness, but the butterflies in my stomach were doing backflips.

I tilted her head to the side, my good hand moving to her waist. I pressed her back against the wall. I kissed her neck softly, and she let out a sharp gasp. I trailed my tongue along the skin before sucking firmly on the spot.

A low moan escaped her, and she clawed at my shirt. The sound was addictive. I felt a stir of heat in my stomach and below my belt, but I pulled back before things could escalate.

"I'm done," I said, my voice sounding thick and raw.

Margaux was a flustered mess, her eyes closed, breathing heavy. "Let's get b-back."

I had to hold her up by the waist as we walked back.

The guys cheered when they saw the mark on her neck. "Eight minutes, forty seconds!" Jack yelled.

"Did you guys fuck? Margaux looks like she just saw god."

"She's just had too much to drink," I stammered, my facing flaming as I helped her back into her seat.

The party eventually started to wind down for the group.

Margaux leaned her head on my shoulder, her weight heavy and warm against me. "Let's get out of here," she slurred, her eyes half-closed.

I nodded, wrapping my good arm around her waist to keep her upright. I took her left hand and draped it over my shoulder, holding it in place with my injured right hand while being careful not to put too much pressure on my wrist.

We navigated our way out of the house in a slow, awkward shuffle, avoiding the dancers and the spilled drinks, when a hand caught my shoulder.

I stiffened, ready to defend myself, but it was just Heather.

She looked us both over, her eyes lingering on the dark mark on Margaux's neck before moving to my face. "You're taking her home?" she asked, her voice surprisingly soft.

"Yeah," I said, readjusting my grip on Margaux as she let out a quiet moan. "She's had too much."

Heather nodded, a look of silent understanding passing between us. She reached into her small clutch and pulled out a set of keys with a sleek leather fob.

She pressed them into my palm. "It's the Aston Martins. Row three, near the oak tree. Drive carefully, please."

"I will. Thanks, Heather," I said, surprised by the gesture.

"And Remi?" she called out as I turned to leave. I looked back. "Don't let anything happen to her."

I gave her a firm nod and continued toward the front door. I looked down at Margaux's dazed, flushed face and shook my head.

So much for not being drunk.

The moment we hit the cool night air, the silence of the neighborhood felt deafening after the bass of the house. The gravel of the driveway crunched under my shoes as I scanned the rows of cars for the Range Rover.

Margaux was stumbling in those five-inch heels, her head lolling against my chest.

I finally spotted the car and made my way over. I reached for the passenger side door, turning slightly to lean Margaux against the frame so I could unlock it, when a fist caught me square in the jaw.

The impact sent me stumbling back, my vision sparking white. I managed to keep my footing by grabbing onto the door handle, but the sudden movement sent a jolt of pain through my wrapped wrist.

"Didn't think I'd get back at you for ruining my life, did ya?"

The familiar, grating voice made my blood run cold. I wiped a smear of blood from my lip and looked up. Kevin. He looked like he'd been waiting in the dark for hours.

"Kevin, what an unpleasant surprise," I spat, my eyes flickering to Margaux who now leaned against the front of the car.

"I hear you're captain now. Bet you wrung Coach's dick for it."

"I earned it. Unlike you, I'm more bite than bark."

I didn't give him a chance to respond. I landed a quick jab to his face, a knee to his gut, and a kick to the groin that sent him sprawling.

I quickly helped Margaux into the passenger seat, threw her heels into the footwell, and peeled out of the parking spot.

We arrived at my house and Margaux was too out of it to carry herself, so I helped her inside.

"You can stay the night," I said, carrying her up the stairs. I put her on my bed and found her some clean clothes.

"You can shower, then change. I'll be in the guest room," I told her, slipping out of my room.

A few minutes later, she called out from the bathroom. "Remington? I need a towel."

I reached into the bathroom with a fresh towel, my eyes averted. She took it, but a moment later, she stepped out into the room. She was wearing the shorts I'd given her, but no shirt—just a thin tank top that left very little to the imagination.

Where did she even get that?

"Uh...what are you doing?" I asked, my face heating up.

"Preparing for bed," she said sassily, climbing under my covers.

"You're sharing a bed with me?"

"Do you have a problem with it?"

I sighed and slid in beside her, keeping a respectful distance.

"I didn't know you were...well-off," she whispered into the dark.

"You don't know a lot about me," I said.

"Well, tell me. I'm curious. If you don't, I'll tell everyone about your 'not-so-little' friend."

I groaned. "I thought we were past the blackmail."

"Remington," she warned.

"Fine. One fact a day. Starting now: I'm a virgin but already knew that." My cheeks started to grow warmer.

I heard her shift in the dark. "I'm one too. And I've never...I've never let anyone do what you did tonight."

I felt my heart skip a beat. "Why me then?"

"Because," she murmured, her voice trailing off into sleep. "You're the only one who doesn't look at me like I'm a prize to be won. Goodnight, freak."

I blinked rapidly. "Uh, goodnight." My voice shaking.

I lay there in the dark after the room went silent, the scent of my shampoo she'd used lingering on my pillow. My brain refusing to shut up.

This just got even more complicated.