TABLE of CONTENTS
Copyright
Playlist
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Thirty
Thirty-one
Thirty-two
Thirty-three
Thirty-four
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Stalk Me
Copyright © 2017 Where the Night Ends
by Melissa Toppen
All rights reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Dangerous Ties is intended for 18+ older, and for mature audiences only.
Editing and Interior Design by
Silla Webb at Masque of the Red Pen
Cover Design by
Judi Perkins at Concierge Literary Designs
Where the Night Ends
Playlist
Dive- Ed Sheeran
Untouchable- Taylor Swift
Fall For You- Leela James
The Cure- Lady Gaga
Shadows- Sabrina Carpenter
Make Me- Noah Cyrus
Force of Nature- Bea Miller
Sledgehammer- Fifth Harmony
How Would You Feel- Ed Sheeran
Come Wake Me Up- Rascal Flatts
Catch Me- Demi Lovato
Every Little Thing- Carly Pearce
Heavy- Linkin Park
Song #3- Stone Sour
Space- Lindsay Ell
River of Tears- Alessia Cara
Fix a Heart- Demi Lovato
Say Something- A Great Big World
Lost in California- Little Big Town
Tell Me How- Paramore
Sweet Creature- Harry Styles
True love, especially first love,
can be so tumultuous and passionate
that it feels like a violent journey.
-Holliday Grainger
“Come on Tess, you have to come,” my best friend Courtney whines from the edge of my bed where she’s currently sitting, giving me her best pout. “You know I need you there.”
She’s spent the better part of the last hour trying to convince me to come to a party that I have no desire to go to. But like most things, Courtney rarely ever lets me off easy. It’s been the story of our entire friendship dating all the way back to the second grade.
“I think you’ll be just fine without me. Besides, you already said Bree was going,” I remind her, turning my attention back to my closet.
“You know Bree will be so far up Blake’s ass the whole time I probably won’t even see her. I need you,” she reiterates.
Of course, I know she’s right. Bree, the third part of our little gang, is what some might classify as well, to put it frankly, a slut. She’s one of those girls who chases love like it’s the only thing in the world that will make her happy which makes her a bit flakey in the friendship department.
We both love her in spite of that, though. Because well, she’s Bree, and there’s no one in the world like her.
“Then why even go?” I snag the yellow sundress Courtney wants to borrow, pulling it from the hanger before turning back in her direction.
“Because it’s the biggest party of the summer, not to mention the last, and everyone who is anyone is going to be there,” she says for the hundredth time since she told me about the party last week.
“That’s what you said about the party last month, too,” I remind her, dropping the sundress into her lap.
Because we’re very close in size, we spend more time borrowing each other’s outfits than wearing things of our own. I would be lying if I said my self-esteem doesn’t take a bit of a nose dive every time Courtney walks out in one of my outfits making it look ten times better than I ever could.
She’s all curves and boobs whereas I’m—well, not. Where things cling to her body in all the right places, the same outfit looks more like a sack on me. Of course, in normal girl fashion, she complains about every inch of her body, even though she knows she’s gorgeous. With dark eyes and long dark wavy hair, Courtney is the embodiment of what every teenage girl wishes she looked like. There’s no way she can’t see what everyone else does.
Unlike me…
I’m more of a plain Jane. I don’t go out of my way to look overly done up. I typically keep my long, light brown hair natural, letting it hang straight down my back. Makeup to me consists of a little mascara and some clear lip gloss, and while I love wearing sundresses and cute tops, I never wear anything too revealing—not that I have much to show off anyway.
I wouldn’t say I’m shy necessarily—just a lot more modest than my two promiscuous best friends. While they’re all about boys and having fun, I’m more worried about staying on track to get into Columbia. Considering it’s one of the hardest colleges to get into, I can’t afford to get too distracted.
“Yeah, but this is different,” Courtney huffs, pulling me back to the topic at hand. “Sebastian Baxter throws the best parties in all of the school. And since his parents’ are in London, you know this one is going to be a doozy.”
“Remind me again how we got invited to this party? Neither of us is even friends with Sebastian.”
“No, but Ant is,” she says, referring to her current boy toy, and one of Rockfield High’s most popular athletes, Anthony Treadway. “You know they play football together.” She gives me a knowing smirk.
“Ah yes, how could I forget? The golden boys. The dynamic duo. Eggs and spam and all that jazz.” I roll my eyes, having never cared much for anything sports related.
“Says the girl who’s been infatuated with Sebastian since he moved here our freshman year.” She narrows her eyes at me.
“That was two years ago, Court. I’ve been over that forever,” I lie, knowing that even when my ex-boyfriend Dylan and I were dating I harbored a massive crush on the infamous Sebastian Baxter.
Not that I ever stood a chance of even catching his attention. He’s a year older than me—a soon to be senior—and if there’s one person in the school who’s more popular than Ant it’s Sebastian. Which means he’s constantly surrounded by girls—all the time.
“Come on, Tess, you never do anything with me anymore. Ever since you and Dylan broke up you’ve been hiding out in your bedroom.” She tries a different angle with me.
“This has nothing to do with Dylan,” I immediately object.
“That’s what you
’ve said all summer, and yet you refuse to go anywhere you think he might be.”
“He cheated on me, Court, or do I need to remind you of that? “The sting of everything he put me through pushes Sebastian completely out of my mind. “Why would I want to subject myself to a night of watching him flaunt his new girlfriend in my face? No thank you. I’ll be just fine right here.”
“I thought you said it didn’t have anything to do with Dylan.” She quirks an eyebrow at me.
“It doesn’t, but it certainly doesn’t help matters.”
“So what then? You’re just going to sit around here all night watching re-runs of whatever lame ass television show you pretend to find interesting while the rest of your high school years pass you by?”
“Don’t mind if I do.” I plop down at my desk that sits in the corner of my bedroom, swiveling my chair around to face her.
“You’re letting him win, you realize this, right?” she challenges.
“There’s no winning or losing here, Court. I’ve already lost. He made sure of that when he shacked up with Taylor Davies, and the whole school knew about it before me.”
I don’t mention the fact that he made sure to include that I’m a stuck-up prude virgin to the rumor mill. Virgin, yes. Prude or stuck up—not in the least. I want to experience all the things my friends already have. I want to know what all the fuss is about. But I also refuse to just give it away to the first guy who looks my way. Dylan clearly didn’t understand this, hence why six months into our relationship he found himself a girl who was willing to open her legs without a second thought.
Being my first real relationship, I didn’t take our break up well. I think it was more about how humiliated I felt than it was the actual fact of losing him. I won’t lie and say I’m not jealous of how quickly he moved on or hurt by how easily he dropped me, but it’s more about my own pride now than anything else.
“Screw Dylan!” Courtney throws her hands up in frustration. “You should be out there showing him all the reasons why he epically fucked up and not sitting here letting him think that he got the last laugh.”
“And I’m supposed to do that how? By dressing up and prancing around like everything is great?” I cross my arms in front of myself.
“That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do. Fake it till you make it, Tess. You, of all people, should understand that. You’re the one who preached it to me for months after my parents’ split up. If it wasn’t for you, I’d have been a hot mess. But you didn’t let me wallow. You didn’t let me sit around feeling sorry for myself. You forced me to get out of the house. And if it wasn’t for that, I never would have met Ant,” she says.
“And how’s that working out for you?” I question sarcastically.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just saying, Court, you’ve spent all summer following him around like a lost pup, and the boy hasn’t even had the decency to make you his official girlfriend. I think it’s pretty safe to say he’s stringing you along.”
“Oh, so now not only are you in the business of being a sorry sap, but you’re also determined to tear everyone else down with you?” she snaps, my choice of words clearly hitting a sensitive subject with her.
I can tell by the look on her face that I’ve crossed the line. She’s right, who am I to piss on other people’s parades. If their arrangement works for her then who am I to judge?
“I’m sorry, Court. I don’t know why I said that.”
“Look, I get that things haven’t been easy for you these past few weeks, but the best way to get over it is to get back out there. Which is why you’re coming to this party with me,” she states matter of fact. “Now get your ass back in that closet and find something to wear that will have Dylan questioning why he ever let you go.”
“I don’t think a cute outfit will make a difference. Besides, I don’t care what he thinks anymore. He made his choice.”
“Then show him you don’t care and come with me. I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“I don’t know,” I waver, thinking over everything she’s just said.
“Please, Tess.” She sticks out her lower lip. “I’m not above begging.”
Truth be told, a night out doesn’t sound like the end of the world. Courtney’s right, ever since Dylan and I broke up I’ve been hiding out. But that doesn’t mean the thought of seeing him doesn’t make me nauseous. Like she said, everyone who’s anyone will be there, and Dylan never misses out on a good party. I know with complete certainty that if I go there, I will most definitely see him.
It’s one thing to know I’ll have to see him in the hallways when school starts next week. It’s another thing completely to have to face him in a social setting.
I weigh the pros and the cons in my head. If I don’t go, it will only further solidify to Dylan and the rest of my friends and classmates that I’m still hung up on what he did to me. And while that’s somewhat true, it doesn’t mean I want him to know that.
“Fine.” I finally cave, knowing there’s no way she’s going to let me get out of this anyway.
She squeals in delight and instantly jumps up, making a beeline for my closet
“But I’m picking out my own outfit,” I quickly add, knowing if I leave it up to her she’ll have me dressed like a teenager in heat.
“Spoilsport,” she whines when I join her in front of my closet.
***
I’ve never been to Sebastian’s house. From what I’ve heard it’s something to be seen but nothing could’ve prepared me for the expansive property that is laid out before me. By the time Courtney maneuvers the long driveway up, I feel like we’ve entered an entirely different world. House is an understatement. This place is more like a mansion.
Sitting on a large wooded lot, there isn’t a neighbor around for miles. No wonder everyone says this is the best place to party—it’s likely you could have a live band outside and not a soul would know what was happening.
“You ready?” Courtney gives me a reassuring smile seconds after killing the engine to her small Civic.
I’m still not entirely sure why I let her talk me into this.
“As I’ll ever be.” I let out a slow exhale before reaching for the door handle.
The driveway is lined with cars. The front of the property looks more like a parking lot to a busy mall than the front entrance of a house. Courtney joins me at the back of the car, and together we make the remainder of the walk up toward the house. The music coming from inside pumps so loud I feel like we’re already surrounded by it before we even reach the huge front porch that wraps around the entire house.
Several people are lounging out front, beer bottles and cups in hands. Busy chatter dances around us as Courtney eyes me excitedly before pushing her way inside.
The music hits us like a tidal wave, the sound so loud my first thought is to plug my ears. Court senses my unease and immediately bats my hand away.
“Live a little,” she mouths over the heavy thump of the bass, shimmying her way through the crowded foyer to an enormous sitting area that’s almost the size of the small one story where I live with my mom.
“Tessa Wilson, you fucking bitch.” I hear Bree before I see her. Her arms drape around my neck from behind just seconds before I feel her lips against my cheek. “Muah.” She makes a spectacle out of the whole ordeal in true Bree fashion.
“How the hell did you get this tight ass out of the house?” she asks Courtney, sliding up next to me.
“Good to see you didn’t waste any time,” I tease, pointing out her inebriated state.
“When in Rome,” she announces, holding up the red solo cup in her hand.
Bree is a spitfire, wild and fierce. Her red shoulder-length bob and dark lined eyes are just some of the ways she displays her defiance. While she acts tough and in control, only those of us who really know Bree know that deep down she’s just a product of a really bad past.
“Are we in Rome? Because the l
ast time I checked we’re still in Rockfield,” I reply dryly.
“You can take the sour sap out of the house, but you can’t make her any more fun.” She pouts before laying a hard smack to my jean-covered backside.
“Remind me again why we’re friends with her?” I ask Courtney over the music, hitching my thumb in Bree’s direction.
“You know you bitches love me,” she screams in response, downing the remaining contents of her cup.
“I’m gonna go find Ant. You okay for a second?” Courtney asks, gesturing around the room.
“She’s fine. All she needs is a drink and a hot piece.” Bree knocks her hip against mine.
“Leave me with this one and who knows where I’ll end up,” I say to Courtney, shaking my head on a laugh as I allow Bree to link her arm through mine and drag me out of the room.
We weave through several people crowding the hallway and then into the large gourmet kitchen. There’s only a handful of people inside, refilling drinks and grabbing snacks. Thankfully the music isn’t quite so loud on this side of the house and while I can still hear it, it’s not the only thing I can hear.
Two kegs are set up along the large island in the middle of the room, and there is just about every variety of liquor lining the top of it. Bree refills her cup from the keg before pouring me a drink, shoving it in my hand the moment it’s full.
“Cheers, bitch.” She smiles, tapping her cup against mine before taking a long drink.
I take a small sip, trying my best not to cringe. I’ve never been a fan of beer. I’m not much of a drinker normally. That’s more Bree’s style than mine. Not that I’m opposed to having a good time, I just don’t like to get too inebriated. I know how some of these parties go down.
“Where’s Blake?” I finally ask, surprised to find them not attached at the hip. He rarely lets Bree out of his sight which in my opinion is a little weird, but she seems to like it so I don’t give her a hard time about it.
As if he can sense my question, he appears in the doorway of the kitchen not seconds later, his eyes bloodshot and glazed over.
“Where the fuck have you been?” He approaches Bree, purpose in every step.
Where the Night Ends Page 1