by NV Roez
He's bigger, taller, built like a man, and no longer the fourteen-year-old boy that I met at my parents’ funeral.
He looked happy yesterday. Who am I kidding? He looked like a god; gorgeous with his thick, pouty lips and angular face with high cheekbones covered in light black stubble. He's still the only boy that ever looked good in a headband—which he was sporting yesterday, holding back his raven black hair. It's longer than the spiky hair he used to have when we were kids.
I remember all of us going to Pine Avenue Sports Complex to watch his soccer tournaments. When they would win, he swore it was because of his lucky headband. He tried to get Caleb to wear one once, but that ended up in a wrestling match, a few punches, and a whole lot of laughs from Ivy and me.
My heart wrenches at the thought of a life that I will never have again. Did I ever really have it? Were any of the good parts real?
The reality is, these fuckers are the reason why I got locked up, and they did it without even thinking twice about it. I absently rub my thumb across my tattooed wrist.
"They threw me away, Ivy," I murmur to myself, feeling the familiar ache of anger and dejection course through my veins.
I had clung to them for almost two years to survive through hell and they just threw me away like I was nothing. They fooled me into believing that there could ever be anything other than hell for me; that happiness could exist too. Well, fuck them.
Standing with a determined rage in my soul, I start to head back to meet my friends for dinner. Caleb, Micah, and Elijah are part of a past that died four years ago.
This is my life. I fought for this life every day since my parents died, and I'll be damned if I let them take away everything that I've worked for again.
I survived losing my parents and my sister. I survived the depths of Dante's inferno, and I will survive them, too.
They may be the monsters under my bed, but I'm no longer afraid of the dark.
7
Against my better judgment, I let Celeste talk me into going to a party tonight. It'll be the last party of the summer, and apparently, it's being hosted by the Greek Council which I learned on the ride here, is made up of two elected members from each fraternity and sorority on campus.
The party is being held at the old fort which is about two miles south of the lighthouse that I frequent on my running excursions.
"We're not going to be able to take your truck all the way. You can park on the side of the road and we'll have to walk the rest," Celeste instructs me, pointing to a suped-up Mercedes-Benz that's also parked on the side of the road.
The road Celeste had me take is off the beaten path, so the only cars that are using it are Stratham students, which is about as safe as it's going to get out here. I don't have much choice, not that my truck would be on any thief's radar compared to the rest of these cars, but still, it's the nicest thing I've ever owned.
"Why are we even here? I thought Greek parties were held at Kelly House on campus?"
"They are during the year, for the most part, but it's our last weekend of the summer before fall classes, so the Greek Council always makes it special and uses the abandoned fort," she explains while she jumps out of my GMC Sierra 1500. It makes her look even smaller. Despite having to walk and the chill in the air, she's opted for a trendy blue bodycon dress with matching stilettos.
I, on the other hand, opted for black utility pants that taper at the ankle and a long-sleeve, black button-up with only the top three buttons done up to show off my toned abs. I added a pair of mid-calf heeled boots and left my pin-straight hair down to hang the length of my back, dusting the top of my ass.
Celeste wasn't exactly thrilled at my outfit choice, but I won points by showing off my stomach so she let it go.
Yep, Ivy would have loved her. They would have ganged up on me to get me into something more ‘girly’, that’s for sure. That thought warms my heart. As much as I would have hated it, I would have loved it just the same to have them both.
We walk down the street and I can hear the faint beat of music. My anxiety starts to creep up a little. I have no idea if I'll see Elijah or the others tonight, but I'm trying not to think about them.
My goals are to take my classes, pass my exams, and get out of college as fast as possible, and live a normal life in the process. I made a promise to Ivy that we would graduate from the best ivy league school in the country, and I'm certainly not going to break it because of them.
Do I hate him? Yes. Do I hate all of them? Also yes. Am I going to stop living because they're here? No.
I lost years of my life because of them, and I refuse to lose any more. I intend on experiencing everything that normal college students experience. I want to BE normal, and despite the fact that I would probably feel better if I could smother them in their sleep, I refuse to jeopardize my future.
I can't disappoint my sister on some temporary vengeance and end up in prison. Because this time, it wouldn't be juvie.
The moon is a few days past full and the soft glow is reflecting on the ocean that's only about a half-mile away. There are no other street lights, so it's relatively dark out, and the chill in the night air sends a chill down my spine.
We walk through the gate that surrounds the property and towards the fort. There are intricate graffiti murals on the outside walls, light pouring out of the glassless windows, and the music is blaring.
Well, this is certainly different. I wasn't expecting a bunch of rich kids to find this kind of scene remotely appealing, but then again, I wasn't expecting a full-fledged tailgating party for a soccer game either, so there's clearly more for me to learn.
Inside, the fort looks nothing like the outside. There's a dance floor at the center with a DJ set up towards the back. On the left, near the original kitchen, there are kegs of beer set up along with a bar, stools, and a few couches scattered about the place. There's a staircase and multiple doors that line the walls on the right, which I assume were the living quarters for the people who used to actually live here.
I have to admit, for a beat-up building, the inside is comfortable and modern. I can see why they like to throw parties here.
The place is packed even though it's early, and my nose is already being assaulted by the smell of alcohol, marijuana, and sweat. We make our way to the kitchen to where we see Taylor and a few of his friends.
"Damn, ladies, you both look fucking edible," Taylor all but purrs as he wraps his arms around my waist. I chuckle and immediately pull out of his arms.
"Taylor, you and I are friends. If we can even call each other that. You have got to stop touching me. There’s nothing happening between us."
"Duly noted. But for the record, doll, I'm just a handsy kinda guy," he says with a wink. And, as if to prove a point, turns to wrap his arms around Celeste's shoulders. "Isn't that right, Cele?"
"Get your dirty boy paws off of me, Taylor, before you lose your dick," Celeste snaps with zero heat to her words and a smile in her eyes. If I didn’t know any better, I might think that Celeste is taking a liking to Taylor.
Hmm...
"Ahh, Cele, I'm starting to think you might be a little obsessed with my well-endowed cock. You're always threatening him with your hands," he says, trying to pull off a seductive look that makes him look even more juvenile.
I can't help the snort that escapes my mouth and Cele nearly gags. Boys.
I decline the beer-filled red Solo cup being handed to me and walk over to the bar. I prefer liquor over beer, and more importantly, I prefer to get my own drinks. Not that I don't trust Taylor's friends, I just don't trust anyone.
I've heard and seen enough crazy shit to last me a lifetime. So, rum and Coke, by my hand, will be my poison for the night.
After watching the boys play a few rounds of beer pong, Celeste grabs my wrist and drags me to the center of the dance floor. My body instantly syncs with the beat and I let myself get lost in the music.
We're both good dancers, and soon, there's a sm
all circle of people surrounding us. Celeste is laughing as I grind against her ass like only I can. It's an unwritten rule that unless we invite the guy to dance, the only person we dance with is each other.
I'm getting ready to head back to the bar for another drink when tingles crawl up the back of my neck and goosebumps litter my arms.
I look around, but the dance floor is so crowded that I can't make out what it is that has me on alert. I keep moving, about to give up searching for my imaginary threat when I see him walking through the front door.
The music disappears from my ears and everything slows down to a crawl. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Elijah walks in with Justin and a few other frat guys, heading for the bar. The crowd parts for them like the Red damned Sea.
Elijah has on a sleeveless black Psi Kappa Psi shirt that is straining against his chest, and a pair of black, low-rise, slim fit jeans that show off his slim waist and plump ass. Tonight, his undercut hairstyle is loose so that the top is just slightly to the side with strands falling well past his silver eyes. He has diamond studs in both his ears and tattoos running across his hands and forearms.
Wow.
My lungs stop functioning and all my air escapes. My heart beats wildly in my chest and butterflies flutter in my abdomen. The fucker still has the ability to take my breath away and he's not even looking at me.
I close my eyes, clamping down and attempting to kill off every one of those damn butterflies.
Time speeds back to normal, and the music comes back into my ears as I realize that I'm just standing in the middle of the dance floor.
"Wanna get another drink?" Celeste rasps, trying to catch her breath, effectively bringing me back to now.
I shake my head, "Not yet. I have to pace myself if we want to make it back to campus."
"Don't be silly, Evie. We can call an Uber and pick up your truck tomorrow. You've already had a few drinks and there's no way that I'm letting you drive. Let's have some fun," she says the last part with a whine, her brown eyes twinkling. She must have seen Justin and is looking for some liquid courage to get him to notice her.
I make the split decision to support my friend, sort of, despite the knots in my stomach. I give her a quick wink and guide her the long way around to the kegs. By the time we get her a beer, the guys are already gone. Celeste looks a little disappointed, but she'll be fine. So far, so good.
"Alright, party people, announcements time! Taking intermission to let our Greek Council kick off our new year," the DJ shouts, turns down the music, and hands Justin a mic.
"Welcome, Titans. Glad to see all your sorry asses get out here tonight," he says with a huge grin. I'll give it to Celeste, he is a charmer. "As new president of Psi Kappa Psi and head of our Greek Council, it is my civic duty to remind you all that Rush Week begins next week. If you think you can make it and deserve the Greek life, your submissions for bids are due by Monday. No exceptions.
"For those who are new here, we only allow second-year students and above with only two freshmen spots each year. The competition is fierce and not for the weak of heart. But know, if you're looking to be Knight, be prepared for the hardest challenges of your life, both academically and physically. So, if you're unsure, don't choose us. There are plenty of other brotherhoods here to choose," he says, pointing at all of the different fraternity and sorority banners that are hanging behind him.
At that, the crowd starts shouting out their fraternity or sorority mascots. There are the knights, the lions, and even the squirrels... It's a frenzy of Greek pride and it makes me wonder what Greek life would be like.
"Alright, losers, back to your regularly scheduled program. Party it up, unwind, and enjoy the last days of summer on us." Justin salutes the crowd by chugging the rest of his beer.
When he hops off the makeshift stage, his shirt lifts up just slightly and I notice a tattoo on his right side, right below his ribcage. Funny, I swear I've seen that tattoo before.
Everyone goes back to their partying ways, and I go make another rum and Coke. From the corner of my eye, I can see a group of girls crowding around Justin and the rest of the Knights. One of them must be Juliette because Celeste's face sours for the briefest of moments before she up-ends the rest of her beer.
I swallow the rest of my cocktail, grab her hand, and head back to the dance floor. Music has always been a good cure for just about anything, and once Taylor and some of his friends join us, Justin and Elijah are soon forgotten.
The DJ plays Above & Beyond’s “Satellite” and that’s my cue to make my way back to the bar for another drink. It’s then that the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I immediately look towards the door and freeze. Fuck.
Caleb and Micah saunter into the party, each of them with a girl on their arm. I tactfully stride toward the kitchen to observe them without being noticed.
Caleb looks dangerous with incredibly broad shoulders and a solid wall for a chest which is exaggerated by his white button-up that looks painted on.
Jesus, he grew up.
His relaxed fit dark jeans were made for him and he’s wearing a Stratham U ballcap, so while I can't actually see his eyes, I know his hazel eyes that compliment his golden skin all too well.
My body warms at the memory of a stolen night a lifetime ago, a night that I paid dearly for and lost him, anyway.
Micah is only slightly shorter, barely leaner, and just as muscular. Though his shoulders can't compare to the boulders on Caleb. Micah has on classic black skinny jeans and a white button-up with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off multiple tattoos peeking out everywhere—though not as cluttered as Elijah's.
His ball cap is turned backward so his large, jewel-blue eyes are on display. He still looks like a drool-worthy surfer, just more of a man instead of the scrawny boy I remember.
No one notices as my world shifts on its axis and the broken pieces of my heart break even further. They look exactly how I knew they would.
What's worse, is how happy they look in their world without me in it. No remorse or sadness hangs over their head for the girl they left to rot in juvenile detention.
The ache in my soul is unbearable as memories flood my mind of a dead life, a dream—a nightmare—the betrayal, the abandonment.
I can feel the broken spaces within my heart fill with resentment and pain. I let it simmer, mentally stirring it to build a cold shell of indifference and strength.
Fuck them.
"There you are. I thought you left me again," Celeste slurs, clearly drunk, as she stumbles into me.
"I drove you here. I wouldn't leave you at a party, Cele, I promise. This isn't a soccer game on campus," I say, rolling my eyes at her theatrics. "Let's go outside and get you some air."
I take her hand and again find the longest, most discreet route to take as I avoid the inevitable for as long as I can and head out back. Once outside, I let go of the breath I didn't realize I was holding.
Maybe I should just leave. We've only been here for two hours, but we've had some fun and I haven't been noticed yet.
I walk through the grassy area towards the ocean with Celeste close at my heels as I think this through. Is it possible that they've forgotten me? I mean, they testified against me in court, but that was years ago.
Our 'friendship' lasted just shy of two years back when we were kids. And by the way they treated me in the end, maybe I was always insignificant and the feelings, the camaraderie, was always one-sided?
The longer I stay on this train of thought, the worse the pit of my stomach burns in pain.
I loved them, I needed them... All that suffering, and in the end, I was nothing. Someone to be discarded. Well, I don't need anyone anymore.
"Hey, ladies. You're not leaving, are you?" Taylor asks as he swaggers up behind us.
The boy could be a certifiable stalker, but he effectively brings me out of my head and back to now. And for that, I think I'll keep him.
I can hear Roy Jones'
s “Can't Be Touched” coming from the party and make a choice.
"Actually, you just helped me make that decision," I say with a sly grin and loop my arm around his while grabbing onto a drunk Celeste. I'm determined to have fun tonight, consequences be damned. I will have a normal life.
After two consecutive shots of Hennessy and another rum and Coke, I get back to the dance floor.
I can see the Knights and their groupies all hanging out near the kitchen, so the dance floor seems relatively safe. Add Taylor and his friends circling around us, and I let go of all thoughts.
Fuck those boys. I can be happy too.
After a few booty-shaking anthems and sharing a joint with a few new college students that I've just met—despite Celeste’s protests—it's time to break the seal and head to the bathroom.
I've managed to lull myself into contentment and feel light as a feather.
On my way off the dance floor, I feel tingles run down my back and steady my walk. I've got this. As soon as I head to the hallway, I find the cause... Micah.
He's against the wall, locked in a sloppy make-out session with some tiny brunette. His eyes are closed and his tattooed hands are under her skirt, no doubt looking for a happy ending. Classy.
I roll my eyes and ignore the unfamiliar burning sensation that's found its way into my chest. I think I'm going to be sick, but it's not from the alcohol.
He's just a stranger, Evelyn. Keep moving.
I try and fail to slip past them unnoticed.
As soon as I start down the hallway, Micah's vibrant blue eyes pop open and instantly lock on mine. We both still.
His eyes storm with recognition and emotions until they settle on apparent anger. He stiffens and shoves the girl to the side, nearly pushing her to the floor. I don't know why that pleases me, but it does.
"What the hell, Micah," the brunette singsongs, stumbling as she struggles to regain her balance.