by Callie Hart
I hold the compact mirror to my nose, blocking off my nostril, and I inhale sharply. My sinuses are instantly both numb and burning with a dizzying wave of pleasure that spreads through my head, down into my body, down into my arms and legs. For a moment, my body is made of pure light. I’m floating up toward the ceiling. My skin’s tingling, alive with sensation.
Kacey strokes the side of my face, humming under her breath. “Pretty, pretty Parisi.” She takes the compact from me, cuts herself a line, and soon all three of us are flying high. She then takes the razor blade in hand, the metal gleaming wickedly under the bathroom lights, lays the sharpened metal against her tongue and licks off the powder residue. I giggle at the sight of the blade resting on her tongue—I can't decide which of them is sharper.
“Truth is, I don’t think you can handle Jake, Silver,” she says coolly. “You need easing into this shit. Fucking Jake would be tantamount to getting thrown into the deep. Better if you fooled around with someone a little less high-stakes first. Get yourself some training wheels.”
“Careful, Kacey. You’re beginning to sound like you might be a little jealous,” Zen says, winking at Kacey’s reflection in the mirror.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Why the hell would I be jealous of a potential tryst between Silver and Jacob when I have Leon?” Her voice is tight, though. The protest on her lips sounds disingenuous to say the least. Holy fuck. How can I not have noticed until now? It hits me, through the drugged haze of my brain—that Kacey is jealous. Jealous that a popular guy at school is pursuing me, and not her.
I’m consumed by the music. I’m covered in sweat and my heart’s racing, but this, right now, is officially the most amazing moment of my life. I’ve never had this much fun before. Never. My body moves in time to the thumping track that’s playing through Leon’s father’s top of the line speaker system, and every time my skin brushes up against someone else’s body, I find myself laughing at the sheer delight of the contact. Everyone’s dancing, grinding, raging along to the bassline and the beat. Kacey and Leon are practically fucking on the makeshift dancefloor; she’s pressing herself up against him, his face locked in between her hands as she licks at his mouth. Zen’s nowhere to be found, but Halliday bounces on the balls of her feet, grinning from ear to ear as the music begins to rise into a heady, maddening crescendo. I love that about Halliday—that she dances without caring what she looks like. She just has fun. I grab hold of her, grinning from ear to ear.
“Oh my god, this party is amazing!” she gasps, just as the beat quickens, the bassline drops, and the crowd erupts into screaming cheers. Halliday didn’t partake in any of Kacey’s coke, but her pupils are so blown, her entire eye is almost black, and she's chugging water like she can't slake her thirst, so I know she's on something. MDMA, probably, given the way she keeps hugging me and telling me how much she loves me.
“When we graduate next year, we need to move down to L.A. We can get a place together and become actresses. Make shitloads of money. Only sleep with fitness models. My cousin Sarah, you know, the one who got the boob job? She’s been down there for three years now. She says it’s basically one constant party. She sees famous people all the time. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
I wrap my arms around her neck, squealing. “Yes! We have to. Let’s do it! I haven’t had a tan since second grade!”
When I pull back, Halliday’s blushing. She looks at me meaningfully, her eyes wide, brows rising. “Incoming, Silver.”
“What?”
“Incoming. Hi, Jake! Wow, I really like your shirt. The blue really brings out your eyes.”
I can feel the fine hair at the back of my neck sticking to my skin. I must look terrible, so flushed and red from dancing, but when I turn around to face Jake, his eyes roam over me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“Thanks. Hey, you mind if I steal Silver for a moment, Hal? I just created this cool cocktail, and I wanted to show it to her.”
Halliday nods a little too enthusiastically. “Take her! I’ve got to find Guy, anyway. Have you seen him?”
“Out by the pool,” he says. God, his voice is so amazing. If football doesn’t work out for him, he could always do voice over. My pulse is already racing, but it quickens even further as Jake offers me his hand. “Are you a gin girl or vodka girl, Ms. Parisi?” He smiles, and it’s as if the world stops turning.
“Vodka.” I take his hand, allowing him to lead me off the dance floor, and I already know this is going to be great. I’ve been waiting for Jake to notice me for the past two years. He was dating Olivia Jenkins, Kacey’s mortal enemy and therefore my mortal enemy, for years. When she moved away at the end of last semester, he told everyone he was going to stay single and focus all of his attention on playing football, but now here he is, holding my hand, smiling confidently as he walks with me through the party…
It’s quieter in the kitchen. There are a group of guys playing some sort of drinking game with a pack of cards. Sam Hawthorne’s leaning against the counter by the sink, tapping something into his phone. His long hair’s tied back into a knot at the back of his head. He grins when he looks up and sees us. “Ahhh, a pretty flower. Such a dog, Weaving. You planning on plucking this one?”
“Shut the fuck up, Sam. Be polite. Silver’s not like that, are you, Sil?”
I’m not sure what I’m like, but I’m irritated by the smug, suggestive look on Sam’s face. I’ve never liked him. There’s something…off about him. Like a bad smell, he’s a constant presence in the hallways of Raleigh High. Wherever Jacob goes, Sam follows. I bare my teeth in an approximation of a smile. My head’s still so clouded from the coke, and it feels like there’s an electric current buzzing pleasantly beneath the surface of my skin, though, so I decide not to let Sam’s very obviously sexual comment bother me.
“I’m just looking forward to this cocktail,” I say.
“That’s my girl!” Jacob’s hand presses into the small of my back, and it takes everything I’ve got not to burst into fucking song. I’ve worshipped this guy for so long. He’s handsome. Charming. Funny. And it really doesn’t hurt that his parents are the two most influential people in Raleigh. They’ve already secured Jake a place at Princeton, but surprisingly enough they’re allowing him to go traveling for a year before he starts college. From what Leon told me, they’re giving him free rein and access to their platinum American Express while he’s on the road.
Dreamily, I’m already imagining all of the amazing, beautiful places we’ll visit and see together when he realizes he’s madly in love with me and invites me to go along with him.
No more running around after Max. No more cleaning and cooking at home. No more rain. Sounds like heaven.
Jacob spins a silver Boston shaker in his hand, flaring as he sets up a line of ingredients on the kitchen island: a thick wedge of orange; vodka; Cointreau; Kahlua; cream; crushed ice. He smirks at me, eyes flickering to me every few seconds as he free-pours the liquor into the shaker, adds the ice, the cream, squeezes the orange, then shakes.
Sam leans over and whispers something into Jake’s ear, and Jake’s eyes narrow. He nods his head. “Tell Cillian,” he says. “Upstairs, though. The third floor.”
I don’t enjoy the way Sam’s eyes crawl over me as he hurries out of the kitchen. The guy’s such a smarmy prick. “What was that about?” I ask.
“Sam got some Bolivian coke from his brother. It’s the purest fucking high known to man. We’re keeping it quiet. He doesn’t have much left. You party, right?”
“Uh, yeah. I guess. I think I’ve had enough for one night, though.” I don’t wanna break my own rule. One line’s more than enough for me. The effects of the coke Kacey gave me in the bathroom are still going strong, the lights in the kitchen a little too bright, my skin burning, heartbeat a touch too quick. I’m not a heavy user like Kace. If I have any more, I’m going to be seriously messed up.
“Ahhh, come on, Silver. Don’t you wanna have fun with me
?” He holds out the martini glass he’s just poured the cocktail into. I accept it, dipping my head.
“Sure. Of course. I’m just a lightweight. I don’t wanna get too fucked up. I have to drive home, and—”
“Okay. All right. Say no more.” Jake flashes me a grin that makes my stomach flip, the way it used to flip when I watched YouTube videos of One Direction when I was twelve. “I respect that. You’ll still come upstairs and hang while I do a rail, though? And then we can go outside and hang by the pool. I have a lot of questions about you, pretty girl. I can’t believe we’ve been at the same school for so long and we’ve barely even said two words to each other. I don’t know the first thing about you.”
Oh, I know plenty about you, Jacob. I try on a smile that I hope looks shy and pretty, taking a sip from the martini glass. The cocktail's strong—way stronger than I'd typically like, but it's deliciously sweet and tastes like Christmas. “Oh my god, this is amazing.”
He must be used to people telling him how great he is, but I can see that he’s glowing under the compliment I’ve given him, like my opinion matters to him. “Thanks. I’m glad you like it. Drink up.”
There’s really not much liquid in the martini glass, and I don’t want Jake to think I’m a pussy, so I knock the whole thing back in one, laughing as I try to swallow.
“Nice. I like a girl who can handle her liquor. So, what do you say, Parisi? You gonna come up and wait for me?”
“Sure, let me just tell Halliday where I’m going, and—”
Jake grabs me by the hand, pulling me around the corner of the kitchen island. His hand sits on my hip, and then it’s sliding around to the small of my back, rising up my spine. I’m shaking like a leaf as he leans down and presses his mouth to mine. I’ve daydreamed this moment enough times that I thought I knew what it would feel like to kiss Jacob Weaving. This is a little rougher than I’d pictured, a little more brash and hungry than the slow, intense burn I had in mind, but still, I’m practically crowing with delight as he pushes his tongue past my teeth and plunges it into my mouth.
God, is Halliday seeing this? Zen? Ideally, I’d prefer if Kacey isn’t standing by, observing my first kiss with Jake. There’s clearly something weird going on with her tonight, and I don’t want the moment ruined by another of her salty barbs. One of the other girls, though. Be good if they could tell me later if I looked calm and confident as I wrap one hand around the back of Jake’s neck, and I pull him down to kiss me harder.
Jake’s eyes are half-lowered and hungry when he straightens, and a thrill races up my spine. I can’t believe that just happened. I can’t believe he just fucking kissed me. My lips feel swollen, a little raw from the stubble he’s rocking. Jake slowly presses his index finger to my mouth, rubbing it along my bottom lip. “So pretty, Silver. You’re so damn pretty. Come on, let’s go.”
He takes the martini glass and sets it down on the island, leaving it behind as he drags me toward the stairs. He seems filled with urgency, keen to hurry away from the noise and the crowd of the party. Halfway up the stairs, urging me ahead of him, he places his hand on the bare skin of my back, brushing my hair out of the way, and places a kiss on top of my shoulder.
I’ve never been up to the third floor of Leon’s house—it’s the only area of the sprawling, breathtakingly designed mansion that’s out of bounds. I have no idea what to expect as Jake guides me down a long hallway with architectural plans pinned to the walls, and strange, small Japanese-looking knickknacks arranged neatly on the shelves. This is Mr. Wickman’s domain. I’ve never met him, but from what I’ve heard over the years, Leon’s mother’s death changed the man. Made him a little unhinged. I see no sign of madness here, as I walk along the hallways, past meticulously tidy rooms with open doors. The reading nook we pass looks so inviting that I could easily pull a book from the imposing shelves to sit and read for a while, despite the churning pulse at my throat.
“There. On the end, see,” Jacob whispers against my shoulder. “Terry’s bathroom’s insane. You’re gonna freak out when you see it.”
I'm feeling a little silly. A little giddy. My brain isn't focusing properly. The world's started to feel a little…spongy. “Does it have a sunken bath? I’ve always wanted to try one of those.” My voice hardly sounds like my own.
“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. We can try everything. Would you like that?”
I nod, and my brain feels like it’s bouncing around the inside of my skull. The edges of my vision seem to be softer than it should; everything’s a little muzzy, but I feel good. Really good. Jake ushers me into the bathroom, and I falter when I see that Sam and Cillian are already there, leaning against a huge slate grey counter, stocked with fancy looking little bottles of soaps and shampoos, along with a mountain of hand towels, rolled up, like you see in hotel spas. They look like little burritos, which, for some reason, makes me laugh.
I still don’t like the fact that Cillian and Sam are here, though. Especially Sam. “I thought we were going to be alone,” I whisper to Jake. I can’t have whispered as quietly as I’d hoped; the other guys must hear me because they share this look, smiles curling up the corners of their mouths, their eyes narrowed into half crescents, and I try to take a step back toward the door.
“Hey, hey, easy. Easy. It’s okay. We just came up here to have some fun, right, boys? You want to have some fun with us, don’t you, Silver? I thought you liked to party.” Jake’s hand on my arm feels comforting. His voice is soothing. But when I look up into his eyes, they look the same as Sam and Cillian’s eyes—primed, shining and excited. A cold jolt fires like a piston up my spine, like cold water. Like jumping into the lake in the dead of winter.
“Wouldn’t it be more fun if Kacey and Zen were here? Or Halliday? I can…I can go and get them.”
“There’s only so much coke to go around,” Jake says tightly. “And besides, we want to get to know you a little better. I hate to say it, Parisi, but your friends are all super cunts. Way too bitchy, especially Winters. If they came up here, they’d ruin the dynamic. Cillian, why don’t you rack ‘em? We probably don’t have long.”
Sam connects his cell to the Bluetooth speakers that are mounted onto the walls while Cillian preps a worryingly long line of coke along the slate counter. A creeping sense of unease keeps trying to sneak up on me, but every time I begin to worry, Jake touches me, his hand on my arm, or my back, or my side, and the attention dispels the dread.
I can’t believe he likes me.
I can’t believe he’s finally noticed me.
I can’t believe he kissed me.
I can’t believe he chose to spend time with me.
‘Santeria’ by Sublime erupts from the speakers, just as Cillian ducks down and inhales a good three inches of the insane line he’s just cut. The music seems way too loud, thumping at the back of my head, but no one else seems to mind. Cillian hands Jake a rolled-up bill, his eyes rolling wildly, a dazed smile pulling his mouth open.
“Uhhhhh, oh my god. It’s good. It’s good. Fuck. My face is numb as fuck,” he jabbers, his words bleeding into one another. “Get in there, boss.”
Jake doesn’t need telling twice. He snorts just as much as Cillian, if not more. He staggers when he stands, pinching his nose, eyes tightly closed. “Shiiiiit. I think I just came,” he hisses. “Holy fuck.”
I laugh because Sam and Cillian are both laughing. I don't stop laughing, even when Jake grabs hold of his dick through his pants, squeezing, working his hand up and down his obvious hard-on through his jeans. He’s just playing around. He’s just being a jock in front of his friends.
Sam dances along with the music as he takes his place in front of the counter for his hit. Jake has moved behind me, pressing his chest up against my back. He’s stopped touching himself, but I can feel his erection butting up against my ass. His hands move to my hips, which feels good, and then they’re moving up over my stomach, higher and higher; he skirts around my breasts, one hand resting around the co
lumn of my neck, stroking my skin hypnotically, while he buries the other in my hair. His breath is so hot against the shell of my ear. I’m his to puppet as he pulls me back against him, off balance, so that I’m leaning against him with most of my weight.
“Sam, take your shirt off,” Cillian commands. That seems a little weird, but Sam doesn't bat an eyelid. He rips his t-shirt off over his head, exposing his muscled, tanned back. I can see his chest in the mirror—his cut abs, and his defined pecs. Sam grins like a court jester at me, his reflection making eye contact, and Jake moves his hand, taking hold of me by the jaw, angling my head so I can’t look away.
“Sammy just got back from surfing in Hawaii. D’you think he’s hot?”
What?
That's a really bizarre thing to ask. He must know I came up here because I'm interested in him, not Sam, or Cillian for that matter. “Honestly? Sam's not my type,” I say in what I hope's a light, airy tone. “No offense or anything.”
Sam’s isn’t fazed by my comment. In fact, he seems to find it entertaining. He dips, inhales sharply, groaning as he staggers back from the counter. “All right, Parisi. Your turn,” Cillian says.
“Oh, no. I’m good. I think I’ve had enough already. Seriously. My head’s thumping right now.”
“Come on, Princess. Just a taste.” Cillian wets his finger, dabbing it against the still foot long length of coke, collecting some on his finger. There’s a devious look on his face as he stalks toward me. “Open up now.”
“Cillian, seriously. I don’t need any. I’m good.”
“Siiil-verrrr.” The sing-song cadence of his voice is a taunt.
Anger finally shoves through the confusion in my head, buzzing in my ears. Spinning in Jake's arms, I try to tell him that I want to go back downstairs now, only…I can't actually turn around to face him. Jake's hands have tightened on me, around my throat again, around my waist.
“Don’t freak out, sweetheart,” he purrs into my ear. “We’re just having a little fun.”