Page 22
Chapter 21
Sparrow
“You’re not fucking going,” Louis growls.
“You can’t tell me what to do!” I protest, backing up against the wall.
“Yes, I can.” He prowls toward me as if he’s going to pick me up and throw me back into the bedroom.
We’d just had sex when his phone started ringing, and someone called Joshua said Louis was needed at a rave tonight at some place called Mumphrey Hill.
A rave? Are you kidding me? That sounds cool as hell. The last party I went to might have ended up a disastrous mess, but still! I can’t be cooped up in Louis’s apartment all my life, right? I want to experience things—things other people my age do. It’s part of why I moved to Springvale in the first place. Back in Arizona, Aaron’s scheming prevented me from ever going to any parties—not that I’d have dared to go without his reassurance, anyway.
Ever since that time in the bath, it’s been easier to shove him out of my mind. Some days, I find myself not having thought about him for hours. It’s always weird when it happens. Weirder yet is that he still hasn’t come to seek me out. I can’t help but worry he’s just biding his time, but even so, I have faith that Louis will protect me. I’d like to be able to protect myself too, but he hasn’t allowed me to hold a gun ever since my freak-out at the shooting range. Instead, he takes me with him everywhere he goes.
He can’t very well follow me to class, but he waits outside the lecture hall without fail. He brings me to Moe’s Den, and although I feel people staring at me, no one dares approach me anymore. Word must have gotten around about Eric and Tyler.
The only one who seems unaffected by Louis’s potential wrath is the bar owner, Maurice. He’s invited me to play pool a couple of times, which I’ve sucked at, to be fair, but it’s still fun to interact with people who don’t seem to judge me.
When I told Louis these exact words, he scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“You think he’s just being nice?”
“Yeah, why not?”
Louis gave me a meaningful look, and I gasped as understanding dawned on me.
“He’s not … interested , is he?”
“Oh, he’s interested all right,” Louis grumbled. “But he knows I’ll break his fingers if he ever tries anything with you.”
“Wouldn’t that get you kicked out of the club?”
“You think I give a fuck?”
At that moment, my heart melted into a puddle at my feet, and it felt like I was walking on clouds for the rest of the day.
I enjoy Louis’s protective nature most of the time— more than enjoy—but not right now. Right now, he’s annoying the crap out of me.
“But I want to go!” I urge him again. “You’ll be there; you can keep an eye on me.”
“I’ll be working, in case you didn’t hear. I won’t have time to keep an eye on you.”
“What if I bring a gun?”
Louis scoffs. “Not a fucking chance.”
“But you told me I should learn to defend myself. Tonight can be a test of sorts.”
“I’ve barely taught you anything. Not for lack of trying.”
My cheeks burn. Every time he’s tried to show me some self-defense moves, I’ve interrupted it by getting horny. But how can he blame me? Feeling his hard body against mine, his rough hands grabbing my wrists, his hot breath in my ear giving me instructions…It never fails to get me in the mood. More often than not, Louis ends up getting sick of my heated looks, wrestles me down on the couch, and tears my pants off.
“You haven’t complained,” I mutter, but Louis just glares at me, so I unfold my crossed arms and put my hands into a prayer gesture. “Please? Pretty please? I’ll be good. I won’t run off and get drunk with some asshole. Promise.”
Louis closes his eyes for what feels like minutes. I tilt back and forth on my heels, feeling giddy with the prospect of him saying yes. I don’t want to go just for fun; I’m also hoping to catch a glimpse of Lilith. She hasn’t messaged me back in weeks, and she hasn’t shown up to class either. Maybe she’s caught the flu that’s been going around lately.
“Fine,” Louis grumbles, glancing away.
I jump into the air. “Yes!”
“But you’re not going to wear some skimpy outfit, like those shorts of yours.”
I grin at him. “No?” I know he loves those shorts, but they’re hardly practical; I’d freeze my ass off in this weather.
“Just hurry up and get ready. We need to be there by seven. Fucker gave me barely any time to prepare.”
I jump up and wrap my arms around him in a tight hug. “Thank you, Louis. Thank you so much.”
He untangles himself from my embrace to wrap his arms around me, and his hand strokes the back of my head. “Happy now?”
“Yes. So happy.”
He sighs and keeps stroking my head, and even though we’re short on time, he doesn’t seem to want to let go.
“Then that’s all that matters,” he says, so quietly I’m not sure I heard him right.
Ravi is already there when we arrive, and he pulls me into a hug, a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.
“Haven’t seen too much of you two lately,” he says. “Been cooped up in that apartment, have you?” he adds with a wink.
I don’t reply, too busy staring at the house towering up ahead.
“Pretty cool, eh?” Ravi says.
Cool? Yeah, you could say that. Apparently, Mumphrey Hill is a code phrase for a massive abandoned mansion nestled by a mountainside. The walls are covered in graffiti, and makeshift neon lights are flaring in all kinds of colors in the ruins of the downstairs living room.
The cracked driveway is already filling up with bikes and cars while dark techno blasts from the speakers inside the house. The music is so loud I swear the ground is shaking with the bass.
Now that I’m here, I’m kind of regretting my decision to go. The more people arrive, the more nervous I get. The party Lilith took me to was a lot smaller than this. At least this place is less claustrophobic, but it still makes my heart race and my palms sweat.
Louis gestures to the house. “I thought you wanted to party. Go ahead.”
“Uh, yeah.” I tear myself away from Louis’s side and make my way into the house.
Cases of beer are lined up against a half wall. I definitely don’t want to get as drunk as I got last time I partied, but one beer won’t hurt, right? I need something to get me through this. My heart feels as if it’s going to crack my ribs open.
As I cross the dance floor, I spot a girl with long black hair, dancing like a demon possessed.
I hold up a hand. “Lilith!”
She spins to me, and her face breaks into a smile, lips painted pitch black. In the multicolored lighting, she looks even more intense than usual.
“Sparrow! What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m with Louis.” I point to where Louis is standing with a grim expression and crossed arms, keeping a watchful eye for any disturbances.
“God, I can’t believe this!” Lilith exclaims as if she didn’t even hear me. On closer inspection, her eyes are alight with something other than alcohol, and she’s got a dreamy look on her face as she sways to the music. “I feel so fucking good like you wouldn’t believe. Asher gave me some E—want to try it?”
I wouldn’t mind feeling as carefree as Lilith does right now, but at the same time, I don’t want to jeopardize Louis’s trust in me. He told me not to get drunk, and getting high is just as bad, right?
“No, I’m okay.”
Lilith digs a packet of Marlboros out of the cleavage of her tight black dress. “Let’s go have a smoke.” She grabs my upper arm and drags me toward a secluded spot in the shadows behind the building.
“Wow,” I say, breathless.
You can see the whole town from here—thousands of streetlights far below.
“Nice, right?” Lilith hands me a cigarette, and I take it. “I’ve missed you,” she says as she puffs out a cloud of smoke, the traces of her painted lips sticking to the filter.
“Where have you been?” I ask.
“Sick.” For a split second, a shadow passes over her face, but it’s soon gone with the way her mouth seems to curl perpetually upward.
I study the cigarette uncertainly. Louis doesn’t want me doing drugs, but regular cigarettes aren’t that bad, right?
“Oh, you’ve never smoked before?” Lilith snatches the cigarette from me, puts the end in my mouth, and holds up the lighter. “Here, I’ll help you.” The flame flicks in front of my eyes, illuminating her face and furthering my sense of unreality. “Now suck,” she says with a twinkle in her eyes. “You’ve done that before, haven’t you?”
I inhale, and thick, stinging smoke fills my mouth. Immediately, my throat seizes up, and I break into a coughing fit.
Lilith giggles. “Just try to relax, okay? Breathe in deep and hold it in for a bit.” She sucks on her own cigarette, putting a hand on her chest. “Then let it out. Like this.” A cloud of smoke shoots from her mouth.
I try to do as she showed me. The smoke enters my lungs this time, and when I exhale, I feel funny a few seconds later. Floaty and a little dizzy.
“So how are things with Louis?” Lilith asks. “You’re fucking insane for moving in with him, you know that, right? I can’t even fathom moving in with Asher.”
“It’s been good.” Good is an understatement. Except for the break-in, it’s been amazing.
“Bet you like him a lot,” she says with a wink. “He’s pretty hot, I’ll admit it.”
I glance Louis’s way and spot another guy I vaguely recognize: Asher, Lilith’s boyfriend. He trots over to Lilith and wraps his arms around her waist. She slots the cigarette between his lips, and he takes it, inhaling deeply. His cherublike appearance seems out of place in a run-down atmosphere like this. Just like Lilith, he’s shaking with the cold or excitement or something else entirely, and his pretty, boyish face is covered in a thin layer of sweat.
“Who’s the kid?” he asks.
Lilith giggles. “Don’t you remember? This is Sparrow. Sparrow, like the bird, you know.”
“Hi, Sparrow,” Asher says distractedly and turns to the dance floor. He’s got a blue glow stick around his throat in the form of a choker, and two more dangling from his belt along with a few chains. “Babe, let’s keep dancing. This song is fucking fire.”
Lilith tosses her cigarette to the ground. “Coming! See you later, Sparrow.” With that, she hurries Asher’s way, and I hear them yelling at each other. “This is so much fun, babe. Feels so good.”
“Is it better than the other stuff?” Asher asks.
She pauses, and then they both break into wicked fits of laughter. “No way!”
Closely entangled, they wander off to the dance floor, leaving me alone with my cigarette. The smoke tastes weird and kind of like poison. I don’t like it, but since it’s the only semblance of company I have left, I keep smoking.
Of course Lilith would rather hang out with her boyfriend. Of course I’m not interesting enough to keep her attention for long. I should be used to being overlooked and abandoned, and the only two people who have ever treated me otherwise are—
“What’s this?” a voice says next to me.
I turn with a startle to see Louis behind me. A displeased wrinkle creases his brows as he glares at my cigarette.
“Didn’t you say you have to work?” I ask.
“This is working,” Louis grumbles.
“I’m just trying it out,” I say, putting the cigarette back between my lips.
“I can see that.”
“It’s not weed, at least.”
“Mm-hmm,” he grunts. “Careful. That stuff will make you feel sick if you’re not used to it.”
He seems like he’s steeling himself from tearing my cigarette away. I thought for sure he’d be angrier about me smoking, but maybe he’s finally starting to realize I’m an adult who can make my own bad decisions.
“I thought you wanted to have fun,” he says. “Party and all that.”
“I did, but …”
“Not feeling it?”
My gaze falls. “No.”
“Want to dance?”
My mouth falls open, and the cigarette drops to the ground. “Dance?”
Out of all the words that could have come out of Louis’s mouth, this was in the top ten most unlikely. It has to be a joke, right? But he’s not laughing or smiling; he’s as serious as he is about almost everything else. In fact, he seems a bit peeved about my obvious puzzlement.
“But…don’t you have to work?” I ask.
Louis crosses his arms. “You want to or not?”
“No, I want to,” I say quickly, and I do; I want to have the same experience as Lilith and Asher. I want to feel like I’m wanted—like I’m worthy of having fun.
Louis cocks his head toward the crowd. “After you.”
“Oh, um, all right…” I walk toward the dance floor, feeling Louis’s eyes at the back of my neck. His gaze licks a trail down my body, and the attention sends goose bumps prickling all over my skin.
As I approach the crowd, I turn around, and a few feet away, Louis is prowling toward me, his predatory gaze fixed on mine, a curl to his lips as I back further into the crowd. The people part for our entry like the Red Sea, and my breath gets stuck in my throat when Louis slides up close.
We barely have time to sway to the music before his hands wrap around my waist, and his lips slot over mine. Soft and warm, his tongue probes my mouth, and we move to the pulse of the music, my arms reaching to enclose his neck. His hands twine into my hair and rip my head back as our bodies writhe against each other.
This is better than I’ve ever dared to imagine. I’ve always wanted to dance with someone and make out on a dance floor. I tried to do so with Eric, but it didn’t feel right back then. This feels more than right; it feels awesome.
Everything fades away. The music blasting into my ears and the sweaty crowd surrounding us don’t seem as intimidating as before. I’m fully present in Louis’s arms, in his touch, and everything else is just noise. Inconsequential.
We dance for what feels like hours, and I smile into his mouth, heady and dizzy and with only one thought in my mind.
Home. He’s my home. My everything.
I open my eyes, and as I look over his shoulder, there’s a silhouette in my periphery. Blond hair, a sharp face, and freakishly light eyes. He’s leaning against a half-crumbled pillar with his arms crossed and a smirk on his lips.
No …
I almost make myself fall backward with how quickly I rip away from Louis’s arms.
He pulls me back into his body, lips by my ear. “What’s wrong?”
Aaron. He’s here! I try to voice the words, but all that comes out is a whine, and now I’m really feeling sick, the delayed nausea from the cigarette descending on me with full force. I point over Louis’s shoulder, but when he turns around and stops obscuring my view, the pillar is empty.
Aaron is gone.
I motion to Louis that I’m going to be sick, and as soon as he lets me go, I bolt to the place where I last saw Aaron. I look for him everywhere: the viewpoint, the makeshift toilets, the outskirts of the mansion, but he’s nowhere to be found.
Weird. Was he even here at all? Or was he just a figment of my imagination? Somehow, that would be even worse.
I slide to the ground with my back to a pillar, eyes squeezed shut and hands clamped over my ears to escape the overbearing music. I let out a scream—or I try to, but it comes out as a whimper: the most agonizing question I can’t seem to find an answer for.
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?”