Aggro - CoraLee June Page 0,1

be nervous around Chase, but old habits die hard.

“What Violet wants, she gets,” Chase replied with a slight smile, the affection he felt for his sister evident in his teasing expression. Chase looked me up and down again, his hazel eyes lingering on my legs for a long moment that made foolish hope build in my gut. “I haven’t seen you around much lately. You used to spend practically every weekend at our house.”

I blushed and tried not to preen at the fact that he’d noticed. “Been busy. I’m working extra hours at the surf shop, and someone’s got to test out all the new merch,” I teased, knowing damn well that it’s not much of a hardship. I’d spend every second of my life in the waves if I could.

Chase smiled, showing off his bright teeth and the dimples in his cheeks.

“You work too hard, bro.”

“It’s a thankless job, but someone has to do it.”

Chase took a sip of his beer before looking around the crowded room. Violet and Chase lived in an ostentatious but empty house on the beach. Their parents were rarely home, and when they were, they pretended like their kids didn’t exist. Though Violet would never admit it, I think the loneliness got to her; it’s why she filled her Saturday nights up with parties and spent them hanging out with me. I had regular, loving, embarrassing parents. I grew up with Allison and Brian Shirley, basically the epitome of love and normalcy. She just really had Chase.

“Have you seen my sister?” he asked while looking around.

“Nope. I’m sure she’s with Kai.” I nearly slapped myself for being stupid. Chase hated Violet’s boyfriend. It was probably the only reason she dated him.

“Of course she is,” Chase replied with a sigh. “Did she just leave you here?” The protectiveness in his tone surprised me, but I didn’t allow myself to think too hard about it.

“I begged her to let me be. You know I don’t do this,” I lamely replied while gesturing around the party by way of explanation. In the distance, there was a couple dry humping against the wall. In the corner, a guy from my English class vomited in a flower vase. Two guys walked through the front door carrying pizzas, and a frenzy of drunk and hangry teens attacked them.

“Right. You’re too cool for lame parties, right, Breezy Baby?” he asked while leaning closer. Chase only called me that when we were alone. I could smell the beer on his breath and the woodsy cologne on his tanned skin. Our exchange was odd but addictive. My inner voice told me that he was just drunk and didn’t realize how close we were standing, but something else had me wishing for more.

“I’m not cool at all, Chase.”

“You don’t know yourself very well.” He was close. So damn close. Another girl would have closed the distance. Another girl would have confidently stroked his arm. Another girl would have giggled at his compliment and brushed a strand of golden-brown hair out of his eyes.

But not me.

I was just about to open my mouth to ask him something mundane about the weather or senior trigonometry when Celeste Borns sauntered up to us. I steeled my spine, preparing for the worst. I didn’t like Celeste. She had wavy hair and round eyes that were framed with fake lashes that were excessively long, like wings on a raven. She was tall and slender, with a confident swagger that couldn’t be matched.

“Chase, baby,” she greeted before slamming her plump pout to his. I watched like a masochist, shame and longing filling me up as she threaded her fingers through his hair and hiked her leg up around his body. I should have left when she moaned into his mouth, but in social situations, I never did or said the right thing. And when they broke apart, I quickly averted my eyes to the floor, pretending to be interested in the pink paint on my toenails.

“Breeze, I didn’t see you there,” Celeste said in a sickly sweet tone while adjusting her dress. None of the girls were ever openly mean to me. Violet made it very clear that she would cut a bitch if they so much as looked at me wrong. Instead, everyone at school toed the line, hiding behind passive-aggressive actions and petty digs to get their point across: I didn’t belong. Violet was too cool for me.

“You look nice, Celeste,” I complimented. Celeste Borns was the type