Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“Nah, it’s all good.” She takes another teeny sip. “I wouldn’t mind keeping a clearer head tonight, anyway. You know, just in case…”
I know she means in case I break down, and although I feel a pang of guilt, I’m also grateful to have a friend like her.
“But…if I’m not getting piss-drunk, I do require some other form of entertainment,” she says with an impish smile. “Let’s do a man sweep. Who do you think I should seduce tonight?”
I laugh, humoring her by peeking around the fire. I spot several promising candidates, but Jaz has other ideas.
“Hey, check it out.” She nudges me. “Look who it is.”
I turn to see none other than Bree from St. Vincent’s, sitting on a log beside her boyfriend, Gray. She’s wearing his letterman jacket with only her bare legs hanging out. She grips a red cup in both hands, giggling at something Gray said.
I keep forgetting those two are dating. Sloane thinks Gray is with Bree because she’s extremely low effort and easily impressed, but I still think she’s a weird choice for him. I was in nearly all of Gray’s classes freshman and sophomore years, and he was always reasonably nice. Smart, funny. I can’t say I’ve ever known him to be a bully himself, though he keeps questionable company. He’s the best wide receiver on the Ballard football team, which comes with its own social baggage.
“Who’s the dude?” Jaz asks.
“Gray Robson. He plays football.”
“Nice.”
She continues to admire Gray, who’s probably one of the best-looking guys at this party with his brown hair, bright blue eyes, and boy-next-door face. His black Under Armour T-shirt shows off his broad chest and sculpted arms, and I don’t miss the way Jaz homes in on those.
“You know what, I think you’ve inspired me.” Something in her voice rings as a bad omen.
“I have?”
“Uh-huh,” Jaz hums, taking a swig of her beer. “You stole Ainsley’s guy the other day. I think I’ll take Bree’s.”
A loud laugh pops out. “I shouldn’t be encouraging this. It goes against my girl power philosophy.”
“But?”
“But those two have been making my life miserable since school started.” I shrug. “I don’t have much sympathy for them.”
The old Casey might have mustered up some compassion for Bree, who’s so painfully dumb that sometimes I wonder if she understands half the malevolent shit Ainsley says. But ignorance is no excuse to silently stand by and watch your friend try to crush someone’s self-esteem.
So when Bree wanders off to join a group of girls waving her over, I don’t resist when Jaz says, “Introduce me?”
A moment later, we approach Gray.
His eyebrows shoot up when he notices me. “Casey?”
“Hey, Gray. How’s it going?”
“Good.” He surprises me by standing to hug me. We were never super close, but he’s Ballard football and I used to be a cheerleader here, so I guess we’ve got history. “How’ve you been?”
“I’ve been great,” I answer. “St. Vincent’s is a blast so far. Your girlfriend’s making me feel very welcome.”
He gives me a wry look. “Is she now?”
“Oh yeah. She’s so friendly, that Bree. Where did she run off to? I wanted to say hi.” I glance over my shoulder, noticing Bree and her group appear to be leaving the party. “Is she leaving?”
“Yeah, they’re doing some pub crawl thing in the city.”
“Aww, so you’ve been abandoned?” I tug Jazmine closer to us. “This is my friend Jazmine, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you,” she drawls, sizing him up. “Casey says you play football?”
“I do, yeah. Are you a football fan?”
“No, but I can be.” She grabs his hand and drags him toward the log. “Let’s sit. I want to hear all about football.”
Gray doesn’t know what’s hit him when she takes Bree’s former seat beside him. Before he understands what’s happening, Jaz has cast a seductive spell over the poor guy. I clock him taking a long look at her tits before sweeping his attention down her bare legs. Jaz leans into him, playfully touching his arm. Dude’s a goner and he doesn’t even realize it yet.
Deciding to give them some privacy, I wander around the fire, enjoying the heat against my cheeks. And then I spot him. Oliver Drummer.
Oliver is the quintessential It Guy. Quarterback. Gorgeous. Filthy rich and generally untouchable. Normally he’s the type of guy I’d probably shy away from, but tonight I’m supposed to be fearless, right? So why not try on a persona who isn’t the slightest bit intimidated by someone like that? Why not tell myself, if even just for tonight, that I’m the It Girl he’s standing next to in all the yearbook photos? Stranger things happen in the forest all the time.
Beside the bonfire, Oliver looks deep in thought, staring into the flames. He’s conspicuously solo, which might as well paint a giant target on his chest. I stroll up to the fire and stand next to him.