Page 117 of Boys Who Taint

“Wow, you must be having one shitty night.” It’s a blond-haired guy in a mask, but his affected voice immediately gives him away. It’s Orion Torres, Apollo’s half brother, who doesn’t even belong to the Phantoms, but apparently he goes wherever the party is. “It’s only just begun.”

“Tell me about it,” I say, picking up another drink.

“Normally I’m the one getting shit-faced at all the parties.” He laughs.

“I might join you tonight.”

“Any reason in particular? Beyond your mortal enemy being here, of course.”

“Not that I’d tell you about,” I reply, annoyed he already figured me out even though we barely ever talk.

“I’m not the target of your vitriol, don’t fight with me.” He raises his glass. “I’m all love. Friend, not foe.”

“You’re probably the only one who still says that after what happened.”

“You mean after what you did?” He glugs down a glass of vodka as if it’s easy. “At least, that’s what they all think, right?”

But that comment totally put me off drinking, and I set down my glass. “You don’t know me.”

“You’re right. I don’t. But someone in this room does, and you’re letting her walk away with another guy.”

His words make me do a double take.

How did he …?

He puts down his empty glass and lets out a sigh. “Now that is a tragedy worth writing about.”

He pulls out his notebook and pen.

“Don’t you write my misery into your book, Oreo.”

He gasps. “Oreo?”

I snatch his pen away and throw it into the crowd of dancing people.

“Hey! That was a Montblanc! You can’t just throw that away.”

“Have fun finding it in the sea of people. That quest should give you plenty of inspiration,” I retort, walking off before he laments some more.

I don’t need him to lecture me. As if he isn’t the one pining for something he can’t have.

Still, I can’t help but look at the redhaired girl on the dance floor, minding her own business in her glittery green dress, grinding against her boyfriend, and all I can think of is how she is in the arms of the wrong goddamn man.

My fist balls.

He isn’t right for her. He never was.

That weasel has lied his way into her life, I just know it.

He doesn’t deserve her, doesn’t know what he’s got, and doesn’t appreciate what she gave to him.

She should’ve been mine.

And if I can’t have her, then neither can he.

Aspen

If I’m goingto be forced to come to a party to keep Apollo from blabbing his mouth, then at least I’m going to enjoy myself and dance to my heart’s content.