Those Heartless Boys - E. M. Moore Page 0,31

on me. He pulls back, creating a space of mere inches. I want to kiss him. I want him to kiss me. His gaze mirrors the sentiment, casting me in a heady glow.

But no, I’m too damn proud for that. Also, I’m not an idiot. He runs with the Jacobs, not the Wilders.

I slam my hands against his chest and push him. “Get away from me.”

Lucas smirks once he regains his balance. “I hope you know you’re only making this more fun for us. It’s about the hunt, right? Not the actual find.”

I swallow. He just took words my dad said only a few thousand times in his lifetime and made them dirty. Confusion pricks at me. I push past him, skirting around the edge of the crowd with my mind and my core still at odds. Since they’re determined to play this game, I have to be smart about things. It doesn’t matter what comes out of their mouths, I’m not the small-town girl who’ll drop her panties at their whims. What’s frustrating is that they’ll stoop to any level to get me to sign that damn contract.

10

Lucas follows me, but I don’t acknowledge his presence. The partygoers sit in a horseshoe-shaped ring around a bonfire, no one situated with their backs to the Hole. I guess some legends just can’t be shaken.

A few stand in groups, others are sitting on rocks or large pieces of wood that have been dragged out here from who knows where because logs sure as hell aren’t derivative from this area. Most everyone has a beer in hand, and I follow the tracks of two girls who are just now getting to the party back to a cluster of guys. That’s where I spot the coolers, so I head that way. I didn’t come all the way out here just for the guys. No, I finally got invited to my first Clary party, so I’m going to make the most of it, whether I’m the odd one out or not.

My father never shied away from giving me a taste of alcohol here and there. He liked his hard liquor, sipped from a tin cup. If I asked for some, he’d let me have a small swallow. The burning liquid would scorch down my throat and warm my belly. I never sat and got drunk with him. Not that I wanted to. That would be the ultimate depressing thought. Father and daughter, drowning their sorrows together. We weren’t that type of family. Plus, alcohol was a luxury in our house.

Skirting around the guys, I pull a beer out of the cooler, wiping the water still clinging to the glass off on my jeans. One of the guys holds his bottle opener out and pops the top for me. I take a long swig.

Dear God. This stuff is disgusting. I choke it down. Must be my tastes run finer than this shit. I glance at the bottle, but I have no idea if it’s a cheap beer or an expensive one. Judging by the fact that we’re all students, I’d bet cheap. I shrug it off because whatever works. If that’s what they’re drinking, that’s what I’m drinking.

I scan the crowd, recognizing most of the people here from either high school or college...or obviously, both. There’s a whole big sky out here, mirroring what a huge world we live in, and I wonder if I’m ever going to have a bigger circle than this right here. The sad part is that I’m not even part of this circle. I’m like a drifter, only pretending that I actually fit in.

A giggle to my right interrupts my thoughts that are just way too deep for my current company and piss-tasting beer. I roll my eyes when I spot Meghan sitting next to Stone on top of a tall boulder. She’s cuddled into his side, even though he’s not paying any attention to her. Lucas has just joined them and the three have their heads together. Meghan doesn’t notice she’s being ignored though. Her sharp eyes have focused on me. “I never thought I’d see the day,” she slurs. “Blue’s Clues at Devil’s Hole.” She laughs loud as if she’s said a hilarious joke. “That’s definitely a juxtaposition.”

Not to sound too bitchy, but I’m surprised she even knows the meaning of that word.

When no one pays her any attention, her voice pitches higher. “Maybe you should get a clue and leave because no one wants you here.”

Of course,

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