that makes me think she’s a lot less drunk than previously suspected, her hand slips behind my neck and she wrenches me down, kissing me hard. Her tongue thrusts into my mouth so forcefully that I almost bite the fucking thing off.
I jerk back hard enough that she stumbles forward on her uneven shoes. “What the fuck!” I swipe the back of my hand over my mouth.
There are tears in her eyes again, but this time her face is twisted up into an ugly, angry snarl. “Fuck you, McAllister. You want a bitter bitch? Maybe I’ll show you one.”
I knew this girl was a hot mess, but Jesus Christ. I didn’t think being nice to her would result in something like that. My phone buzzes, alerting me to the fact we’ve only got about five minutes before the video goes live. Without another word, I walk away. Leaving Sydney and her drama behind, I head toward the gym to find my girl.
35
Vandy
Music pulses from inside the gym, along with flashing lights and shimmery decorations. Afton and Elana did a great job decorating for the dance.
My nerves are on edge, and not just because of the prank that’s looming over all of us. I’m in a shiny silver-blue strapless dress, and I’ve never worn anything like this before. It has a slightly debutante feel, with a wide skirt that bunches at the waist. My boobs feel horrifically squished into the tight bodice, but peeking out the top is an amount of cleavage that one hesitates to call modest. Fortunately, we were able to find matching ballet flats, so I don’t have to worry about any precarious high-heel maneuvering. Aubrey spent an hour on my hair, curling it into tight little ringlets that hang from a sleek updo. The only jewelry I’m wearing is the firefly, which hangs from a delicate silver chain I pilfered from my jewelry box.
My part of the job is easy. Tyson and I meet and greet every attendee, handing out custom-made Preston Prep stickers. It won’t be suspicious, since we’re supposedly taking over the duty from a sick pair of boosters.
“What’s this?” Corey Markham asks. His date, Sabrina Randolf, stands next to him in a tight, sequined dress. He rocks back on his heels and I wave a hand in front of my face, batting away the reek of rum and weed.
“Wear it all night and you’ll be entered into a raffle.”
“For what?”
“Uh.” I glance at Tyson, the pre-arranged lie stuck in my throat.
He covers easily. “Box seat tickets to the Falcons game next weekend.”
The guy shrugs but takes one.
When they enter the gym, I say, “You’re good at that,” nervously running my hand through the remaining stickers. It’s about an hour into the dance, and according to the timeline, about fifteen minutes before shit hits the fan.
“Good at what?”
“Making stuff up.”
“Lying, you mean?” He gives me a tight grin. “I guess. I don’t get off on it or anything. It just gets easier after a while to make up a story and stick to it.”
“Yeah, I get that.” I lean my elbows on the table. “I did a lot of lying when I was using.”
He appraises me. “But you’re better now, right?”
I nod confidently. “I am. I was just… in a bad place, and I wanted an escape. But things are better now. I don’t need to escape anything.” It’d be a lie to say I don’t miss it, in some deep-down, strange way. It’s not like I look back on it with fondness, and I have other ways of feeling good. Better highs. The kind that don’t hurt me. But the pull never fully disappeared. Sometimes I wonder if it ever will. “The whole thing just got so out of control.”
He mirrors me, forearms propped on the table. “I feel the same way. I really do love Presley, you know. And I think she loves me.” His face falls. “Or at least the person I’m pretending to be. You’re lucky, actually. This thing you have with Reyn? It’s—”
I blurt, “You know about that?”
He slants his eyes. “Kind of hard to miss with the warpath your brother’s on, isn’t it? I’m just saying, I know it’s supposed to be a secret. But the two of you are keeping everyone else out. Not each other. You really know him, and he really knows you.” He slumps, eyes sad. “I wish I had that with Presley instead of what we’re doing now. It kind of makes me want