by Eden Beck
Most everyone is in the tasting room at the front where we are right now, but there are more rooms leading off of this main one, and she heads into one of those and I follow. I don’t really know anyone out here that well, and since it’s basically impossible to hold a conversation with either Alisha or Laura, and Chris keeps looking at me like he’d enjoy kicking me in the shins, I follow.
She heads into a kitchen area laid out with food that pairs well with wine; meats, cheeses, crackers, and chocolates. Every part of my old self is screaming for me to find a plastic doggy bag for later. This is what you get when you party with the children of millionaires or better.
Victoria gets distracted talking to someone about herself, and I nibble on a few things and then decide to take a look at the rest of the place on my own. I finish my wine, refill my glass from another random bottle pulled from the wall, and drink that too. I shouldn’t drink so much and so fast, but it’s the best wine I’ve ever tasted; not that I’ve tasted much of it in my life. I take glass number three and go for a walk.
I wander through a hazy smoking room lined with students puffing on cigars pulled from the humidor on the wall. The next room is a small library with plush sofas and a beautiful old wooden desk. There are more soft lights glowing here and there, and the walls are lined with dark wooden bookshelves filled with books. Once again the street rat in me wants to bet that some of these books are worth quite a bit of money … and no one would even notice they’re gone.
I’m just about to turn and leave before the worst part of me starts looking up what kind of prices I could get for them online when I hear Astor’s voice. “Leaving so soon?”
I didn’t see him when I looked around the room the first time. He’s sitting on one of the sofas with Blair, and each of them is drinking their own bottle of wine. No glasses for them. My heart launches into my throat as Astor stands up. He’s taller than me of course, but here in the low-ceilinged cellars he practically towers over me.
“Hey, Astor,” I answer back. I try to draw in a breath, though it’s shaky, and I take a few steps toward him. “I … I want to thank you for before, in Dr. Baxter’s office. You didn’t have to lie and say that it was you who took the lamp.” The unspoken question hangs between us.
Why, after all that before, did you do it?
He gives me a cold look. “You were wearing my coat. They’d have tied you to me anyway,” he says, brushing it off. He turns to look at Blair. “Do you believe what she’s wearing? That’s so short I can almost see what’s underneath it.”
My cheeks turn pink and begin to burn, but I try to stay on topic. It’s about damn time one of these boys gave me a straight answer.
“That can’t be the only reason,” I say, but Astor isn’t paying any attention.
He keeps circling me, his eyes clinging to my body even tighter than the dress. “Where on earth did you get that?” he asks. “It doesn’t suit you. It’s not your style.”
My style? I don’t have a style. I have the school catalogue … all school uniforms and ill-fitting sweaters.
“Victoria loaned it to me for tonight,” I answer honestly.
“That figures.” He rolls his eyes and finally stops pacing. “I don’t like it.”
Anger begins to bubble up in me. “You don’t have to like it. I didn’t wear it for you.”
“Yeah?” he asks as his eyebrows rise. “Who did you wear it for?”
“That doesn’t matter—why did you tell Dr. Baxter that you took the lamp?” I demand, planting my hands on my hips. Maybe it’s the wine talking, or maybe it’s just that I’m tired of not getting answers.
His brown eyes take on a fire in them for a moment as he watches me grow increasingly frustrated.
“You don’t have to know everything, Sadie,” he says simply.
“Did you get into trouble? I don’t want you taking the rap for me,” I say. I don’t want to owe this bastard anything. “If there’s a punishment coming, it should be mine.”
He steps up close to me and slips his finger under my chin, raising my face so that I’m looking straight up at him. “Oh … there’s a punishment coming for you. Don’t have any misgivings about that.”
My heart starts pounding and my blood rushes. Unwarranted fear begins to bite at the edges of my mind.
“What about you? What happened to you?”
He’s silent a moment, watching me, and then he looks up past my shoulder towards the door. He lets go of my chin. “Nothing. Nothing ever happens to me here.”
I drop my eyes to the floor as I realize why. “Because you’re untouchable.”
Astor glances down at me coldly. “Damn straight I am. Blair, take care of this for me.”
He walks out of the room and closes the door partway behind him. I turn and watch him go, wondering what he’s talking about. A moment later, my worries have shifted because Blair is right behind me snaking his hands around my waist. I gasp and turn to face him, and am caught in his arms, lost in that bad boy green eyed gaze of his.
“Just for the record, I love the dress. I have a half a mind to put you on the back of my motorcycle and drive you straight out of here so I can have you all to myself.” His voice is low and soft, black velvet again, and I can feel myself melting inside.
“You … you have a motorcycle here?” I ask, just above a whisper.
He laughs softly. “Yeah, I do. But I don’t want to talk about my motorcycle.”
I can barely breathe, and my heart has somehow managed to beat itself right out of my chest. I don’t even know how I’m standing right now. It’s the wine. It has to be the wine. It’s going to my head. The room is getting warmer, and I’m getting a little dizzy, and being in Blair’s arms isn’t helping that at all.
“What … what do you want to talk about?” I ask him, trying to focus on his eyes. That little smile is at the corner of his mouth and it makes the butterflies in my stomach do somersaults.
“I don’t want to talk at all,” he answers me, and in the next breath his lips are on my lips. I gasp, drawing in a deep breath of my own at his unexpected kiss. Before I can even figure out how to react his mouth is moving slowly over mine. I can taste the wine on him, and then I can taste his tongue as it twists around mine.
A soft moan escapes me, and I have no idea where it came from. His hands move from my waist to my back, and up into the pretty braid that Victoria styled for me. His fingers slip slowly through it, loosening it so my hair falls back down around my shoulders.
He lifts his mouth from mine and begins to kiss my cheek, and then trails his lips to my ear and my neck. I’ve stopped breathing. It’s all I can do to keep standing.
“Don’t tie your hair up like this. I want it down. I like it down.” He brings my hair forward, running his fingers through it as he kisses my neck hotly. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I saw you,” he murmurs in my ear, and I can feel him taking slow steps backward. I walk with him, wondering where we are going, until he lowers us both down onto the sofa where he had been sitting with Astor.
He takes my face in his hands and smiles that little dimpled smile at me. “You’re so beautiful, and you don’t even know it. It’s what makes me want you so much.” He leans forward and kisses me again, deeply, and I lose myself in it.
I can feel his fingertips as they move across my cheek and slowly down my neck. It’s like a trail of electricity is streaming behind his touch, and it makes everything in me heat up even more.
Blair leans me backward as he kisses me until I’m lying on the sofa and he’s lying on top of me. His fingers drift over my shoulder and then to my chest, and I push his hand away in a brief moment of self-control.
“Blair, no,” I somehow manage to whisper breathlessly.
He just moves his hand down my side as he kisses me more passionately, his fingers moving over my hip and down my thigh until he reaches the hem of the dress. His fingers waste no time sliding underneath it and he starts to push the dress up my leg
.
Panic hits me hard and jolts me out of my rapture. My eyes open wide and I reach for his hand.
“Blair! No!” I tell him, more adamantly this time.
He looks at me with a cute little pout and touches his finger to my lips. “No? Why not? I promise you’ll like it. Once you’ve had it … you won’t be able to get enough.”
I sit up sharply and push him away from me. “No. I’m not … we’re not … just … no. That’s not happening.” I’ve never gone so far with a boy before. In fact, I’ve never even kissed a boy on the mouth before. Blair is my first ever. I’m definitely not ready for more than some kissing.
I crawl out from under him and get to my feet. Blair remains on the sofa, looking up at me in disappointment. “My sweet Bunny. We were having so much fun, too.”
I grow irritated with him. “Why do you keep calling me Bunny? I have a name!”
Blair laughs and gets to his feet. “You’re a sweet little playmate Bunny. My Bunny. That’s your name.” He leans close to me and kisses my cheek, and for a moment, I can’t move.
“Listen, if you change your mind, you let me know. I am all yours. Bunny.” He kisses my mouth once more, slow and sensual, and then laughs as he walks out of the room, pausing only long enough to pick up his bottle of wine on the way.
I’m dizzy and I feel sick. I’ve had too much to drink in too short a time, and the room feels like it’s on fire. I’ve had enough for one night. I don’t have years of drinking experience like the rest of them already do … and I actually have something to lose if I make a mistake. Not everyone can be untouchable.
I leave the library and make my way through the other rooms. I notice Victoria hanging out right beside Astor, trying as usual to get his attention. Astor has eyes only for me as I walk across the room and head for the door. Just as I leave, I look back over my shoulder and see him laughing in a strange, cruel way ... and somehow I know it’s directed at me. I don’t know what he’s up to. All I can be sure of with him is that he is not to be trusted. Not at all.
I find the flight of stairs that goes clear up to heaven, and after the first two floors, I give up and take the high heels off. I’m too tired and too buzzed to try to maneuver endless flights of stairs in them.
After an eternity, I make it to the room, and close the door quietly behind me. That’s when it hits me. The thing. The thing that has been nagging at the back of my mind all afternoon and evening. The thing that I forgot.
“Oh no … Dana. I’m so sorry,” I cry out softly as I look at her desk and see her biology project sitting on it. She’s sitting up in bed, reading a book. She looks up at me over the top of it and glares.
“Wow. You’re home so early tonight. Was the party a dud?” Her sarcasm is definitely on point. I deserve it.
“I didn’t mean to stay so long. I was going to come right back and help you with your project.” I’m lying again.
“Yeah, I’m glad you did that. Thanks for the help.” She slams her book on the bedside table and flips her little lamp off, turning her back to me as she has been doing so often of late. I realize then what a jerk of a friend I’ve really been to her.
“Dana,” I say, stumbling toward her bed, feeling even more dizzy than I was half an hour ago. “I really am sorry for—”
That’s when it happens. I throw up on the floor right then. There’s no warning sign, no little urp, no queasiness, no. Just projectile vomiting on my feet and the floor. I’m so grateful that I dropped Victoria’s shoes behind me when I came into the room. I’d never be able to pay for those if I ruined them. I stare at the mess at my feet.
“Could you please clean that up right away? It reeks,” Dana growls at me and turns her back to me once more.
I close my eyes and cover my mouth with my hand. It’s going to be a long night.
Chapter 14
When I wake up, I feel like I’ve been hit several times by an oncoming train.
I have a pounding headache all day, and I don’t want to talk to anyone. Breakfast is not an option; all I can handle is coffee and water and even that makes me want to puke again. It took me half an hour to get the floor cleaned up to the point that it didn’t smell last night. Dana hasn’t spoken to me since, which is entirely fair. I deserve nothing better.
To top it off, the holy trinity keeps snickering at me all day. I’m sure I was quite the sight last night, stumbling off after a little rough and tumble with Blair. Knowing the way boys talk … I doubt he told them the whole truth of what actually went on.
Well then fine. Let them have some secret laugh at my expense, so long as they stay out of my way. I’m in no mood to deal with the drama surrounding the clique today. I returned Victoria’s dress and shoes before classes started, but she wasn’t in her room. For all I know, she’s still down in the wine cellar.
She did finally turn up after lunch, but luckily she wasn’t interested in talking to anyone either, and that includes me. I find some small, hateful, comfort in it.
Madame Bisset stops me after my French class and asks me to stay. All I want to do is bury my head under my pillow, but I stand at her desk and look at her expectantly.
“Sadie, is everything all right with you?” she asks with concern.
I feel certain that she can tell that I’m hung over, and try to straighten my shoulders a bit like that will help. “Yes, it’s fine, why?”
“Your grades have dropped, and you’re missing a lot of class lately.” She lowers her brows some. “I know you had high hopes and good goals when you started, but I’ve seen a change in you.”
I’m taken aback. “Sorry … I … I hadn’t realized.”
I knew it was going to come. I’ve been letting my all-important social life overtake my school career. I haven’t been taking any of my education seriously, and that was the whole reason that I came to this private school to begin with.
She looks at me pointedly. “If something was wrong … you could come to me, you know.”
“Thank you. It means a lot to me that you care. I’ll get back on track. I promise.”
As I try to reassure her, I wonder if I’m lying just to her or to both of us.
It’s nice to have someone actually care what my grades are and worry about how I’m doing, but I just need to work it out myself. She couldn’t possibly be any help to me in figuring out how to manage the social politics here as well as my grades and schoolwork, or my epically failing friendship with Dana.
I wave goodbye to her and leave, wishing that I could do it all over again. I feel like I started out on a slippery slope, and now I’m just spiraling downward with no hope at all of getting back on my feet and back on solid ground again. I can’t imagine how bad it actually must be for me not to have noticed this long.
As soon as I leave I feel so sick to my stomach that I head straight for the girl’s bathroom. Luckily, I’m the only one in it, and I go to the sink and wash my face with cold water. It feels better, but it doesn’t help too much. My head is buried in the sink with a wet napkin to my face when I hear a familiar voice right beside me.
“Feeling poorly today, Sadie?” he asks, his voice cold. I cringe. I know it’s Astor.
“I’ve felt better,” I answer him with a groan, slowly standing up and lowering the napkin. He’s looking at me with that smug expression he so often gets. It’s the one I’d love to slap right off of his face.
“Well, maybe you just need a little more time in here to freshen up. Might do you a world of good.” He gives me a nod and heads for the door while I look at him quizzically. Why would he care how much time I spend in a bathroom?
I’m too sick to care … but I realize right away that I should have.
Astor closes the door behind him when he leaves. It’s followed by the soul-crushing sound of the doors locking behind him. From the outside.
I remember something Victoria said last night.
Astor has the key.
I guess the ‘Hawthorne privilege’ extends to
all the doorways.
“Astor!” I scream at the top of my lungs, rushing to the door and pounding on it. “Astor, you let me out of here right now!”
I can hear laughter on the other side. “It’s payback time, Sadie. A little bit of punishment for you,” Astor tells me through the door, and I can hear his friends laughing with him as they walk away.
“No!” I scream at him. “Let me out! Let me out!” It doesn’t matter how much I yell and bang on the door, for some reason no one is there, and I am truly stuck. My upset stomach comes back to bite me, and the coffee and water I’ve had today comes back up. I throw up again, and the only thing I’m grateful for is that I’m in a bathroom and no one else has to be around me while I’m sick. This is one mess I won’t have to clean up.
After I can get to my feet again, I start looking around for another way out. I finally manage to get one of the windows unlocked and pushed open, only to remember that I’m on the third floor on the side facing the woods. Even if I called out, I doubt anyone would hear me.
It’s back to banging and yelling on the door. I don’t last long this second time around before I finally give up and lay on the floor. I don’t cry, but I think it’s only because my body has already expelled all its excess fluids.
I’m so sick and exhausted that the cold tiles feel good against my head. If I lay absolutely still it doesn’t feel like I’m about to die anymore.
It must be years before I hear the lock click again, and then that’s it. Only the sound. No one comes in, no one calls out to me. I stand up slowly and reach for the door and this time it swings open.
As I walk into the hall, I see that the area is roped off with ‘wet floor’ signs and tape, so no one could have gotten close to the bathroom anyway to hear me yelling.
Well done Astor. You really do know how to make sure a job is thoroughly done. I’m so ready to knock Astor’s head clean off of his shoulders.
I head straight to my room. I missed my last class while I was locked up, and it was immediately after I promised Madame Bisset that I would clean up my act and start taking my school career seriously. I wasn’t hit by a train wreck. I am the train wreck.