staircase made of exposed steel to the second floor. Here, the entire wall of the house is glass that retracts into the wall. At one end of the balcony, a DJ spins hard house music while on the other, two bartenders shake cocktails. For a seventeen-year-old’s party.
This is insanity.
I’ll take two.
We stand in line for the bar. I have no idea what to order, but there seem to be only two options – a pink thing or a blood-red thing. Gabriel makes small talk with the bartender while he mixes us two pink things in highball glasses. Gabriel has this ease about him, finding conversation with anyone he comes across. I wonder again why he’s decided to fixate on me.
I don’t belong here.
On the surface, I appear to fit in – my golden gladiator costume looks like it came from the same store as the sexy devil in the corner or the slutty Tardis dancing with a masked Dr. Who. I even see a blonde in the corner striking a pose with a minor film star, her naked body painted gold, a crusader’s sword gripped between her fingers. An Academy Award. Gag me with a rusty fishhook.
I feel naked, too, like they can all read my past on my skin. The things I’ve survived etched into my flesh, setting me apart, marking me as other. They’re all far too comfortable, too sure of their future. Tomorrow they’ll wake up hungover and they will still own the world. For me, every day is a tightrope walk without a safety net, and one wrong move could see my neck snap.
Gabriel hands me a drink. I sip it gingerly. It tastes like a unicorn farted into a case of top-shelf gin.
Gabriel links my arm in his and yells over the music, “Let’s find Eli.”
We walk a circuit of the room. Eyes flicker over me, their judgments burrowing into my skin. Gabriel tries to talk to some guy from school, but the music’s too loud. The bass vibrates the bones right out of my body, or maybe that’s the warmth of Gabriel’s touch turning me to jelly.
Eli’s nowhere to be seen, but we do find Noah hidden in a dark corner with Cleo draped over his lap, her lipstick smeared across his sharp cheekbones. She’s dressed as Cleopatra, of course, with a gold lamé dress and a collar of glittering diamonds. Cleo must’ve decided Noah was a worthy new target. They both glare at us, but of course Gabriel ignores them and drags me over.
“Don’t you two look cozy together,” he yells.
“Get lost, Gabe.” Noah pulls Cleo onto his lap. She wraps her arms around him and presses her lips to his. Their kiss is hot, searing. His fingers drift up her spine to tangle in her hair. I wish for a cold shower or the floor to open up and swallow me.
Noah’s eyes never leave mine. He’s kissing another woman, and all he can do is burn his hate into my retinas. A shiver runs down my spine – the kind of shiver that grows an ache between my legs.
As we walk away, Noah’s eyes follow me across the room. I know better than anyone how hate can heat the blood, can stoke a fire of longing no amount of soft touches or kind words will ever quench. Does he feel it too? The all-consuming fire that draws us together? Is that why Noah looks at me as if he’s burrowing into my soul? Is that why he can’t forget me?
We head downstairs. A group of guys pass a crack pipe around. They offer it to Gabriel, but he declines. The music rattles in my chest, my bones, my brain. We move out to the pool. There’s space to breathe out here, small groups scattered around talking, couples lying in the grass or pressed up against the walls, lips, hands pawing. I go to sit on one of the loungers, but it’s occupied by a girl in an angel costume being fucked by two guys in devil horns. I jerk away.
Gabriel laughs, pulling me close. “You act as though you’ve never been to parties like this before.”
“Sure I have,” I shout back. “I just think this one’s lame. Where’s the petting zoo?”
“Nice try, but nope, I definitely don’t think you’ve been around, because I’d have remembered that glorious arse.” Gabriel’s eyes are heavy-lidded, dangerous – just the way I like him. “Where have you been hiding away, Mackenzie Malloy?”