Page 8

G oose bumps erupt along my skin as I step out of the Lyft and onto the paved entrance to the Kensington house. The air has a crispness to it, fluttering through my dress as the wind blows around me.

This estate’s really nice. My eyes travel over the gated entrance. I’ve heard of the Kensingtons, even before coming to HEAU as a student. When my dad used to drag me to this school for donation ceremonies, I heard the Kensington name. The only higher contributors than us, which is saying something since I’ve seen the checks he cuts for HEAU.

There are already so many people inside the gate. I’m scared to see how crowded the house is. Sardines packed in a can?

I’m sure they have the space to manage it though. I mean, for God’s sake, there are multiple properties on the estate.

As I approach the booth at the gate, I wait in line as a few people list off their names. The man checks them on his computer and waves them ahead.

I will say that I’m impressed so far by the structure and staff for tonight. Security workers are everywhere, guarding who comes in and also strolling back and forth on the property. It’s nice to know that they are taking precautions to keep people safe.

I’m up next, and as I step forward, my heart is in my throat.

This is a prank. I’m not really invited. I’m not on the list.

Malik is going to pop out at any second and laugh at me. Just like the old days.

“Hello. Your name?” the older man asks politely as I reach the open window.

I clear my throat softly. “Alora … Alora Briarwood.”

There is no gleam of recognition in his eyes, making me feel slightly better that this isn’t all some elaborate scheme.

“Ahh, here you are.” He types into his computer. “Welcome. Please grab a wristband and secure it around your wrist.”

An assortment of colored bands decorates the table set against the booth. Which one should I choose? Do they have any meaning behind them, or are they just fun?

Oh God … the choice begins to shut me down.

“Everything okay?” the polite man asks.

My gaze flicks to his, and I already feel way too overwhelmed by everything happening, and I haven’t even stepped inside the actual party yet.

“Um … yeah. Thank you,” I mumble, hesitantly reaching out and selecting a pink band.

It matches my dress at least. Glancing down at the ruched pink satin fabric, I slowly stride forward, fidgeting with the strap of my purse.

The sky is dark, the only light created from the lamp posts, and sconces on the building ahead. The gate is blocked open, and I follow the couple ahead of me inside, my short heels clicking on the pavement.

My gold bracelet reflects the light next to the party band. A gift from my dad. One of the many he threw my way in order to buy my love. Back when I was too naive to recognize it.

I might not be close with him anymore, but I’m not going to just throw away gold jewelry. I’m not an idiot. Besides, I also have a matching gold dangle choker that goes perfect with this ensemble.

But the luxury and pretty dress are doing little to settle the nerves and adrenaline coursing through my body.

Asher never sent me a text, and I wonder if that has anything to do with Malik. But Blair sent me the address and told me that I was more than welcome to hang out with her when I arrived.

I appreciate her warmth and welcoming spirit, but part of me can’t help but think she’s playing along with some game Malik coordinated.

Which is why I got dressed up tonight. I’m not the same shy girl I was back then. Well, I mean, I am, but now I’m more confident in my skin and in doing things that scare me.

So, if Malik wants to pull a stunt tonight, I know that at least I feel good about myself—something he can’t take from me.

Music begins pulsing from the house, thumping beneath my feet as I round the corner to the front entrance.

Squeezing between two big groups drinking on the twenty-foot-wide staircase, I use the railing to help me up the stairs to the first landing and then the second until I reach the front double doors, stopping every now and then to take a few deep breaths and breaks.

Blair wasn’t kidding … the Kensingtons can throw one hell of a party.

My nerves overload me, and I stop myself, sinking to the side of the doors without going through.

Oh God. This was such a bad idea. What am I doing here?

This is so not my scene. Way too much alcohol. Way too many people. One too many Maliks.

What the hell am I getting myself into?

Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I contemplate if I’ve gone insane for doing this. For challenging Malik and showing up tonight. What if I just make everything worse?

“Alora?”

I recognize Blair’s kind voice behind me instantly.

Shit.

Slowly spinning on my heel, I lift my head a little taller and relax my shoulders just enough to sell the part.

But my confidence fades when I see she’s not alone. She has a wall of hockey players behind her, all staring right at me. Including Malik.

Stay calm.

Blair strides forward, pulling me into a light hug. “I’m so glad you came!”

Pulling away, I glance at the group, finding their eyes at different levels of my body, all but Malik’s, whose gaze is locked so aggressively on mine that I’m scared I won’t be able to move. He’s pissed—royally so.

His nostrils flare, his jaw is clenched, and his fists are squeezed tightly against his sides. He crosses his arms, his sharp glare trying to gouge my eyes out.

All because I’m here. My chest flutters at the satisfaction of pissing him off. It’s a nice change for once.

Asher whistles, walking toward me with a shiny white smile. “Alora, you look fucking hot.”

Malik clears his throat, deep and rough, like a growl.

But Asher doesn’t skip a beat. He hooks his arm over my shoulders and turns me toward the door, bringing me along with him without question.

I barely hear Malik say something behind me; the only words I catch are, “… fucking kidding me?”

Blair and a shorter guy with blond hair catch up to my other side.

Asher murmurs down into my ear, “How about a drink?”

“Oh, I’m okay. I don’t drink.” I refuse his offer as nicely as I can. “Thank you though.”

He tilts his head back. “Come on, Aloraaaa. Live a little.”

It’s too much to explain that alcohol is hard on my body. As a diuretic, it can rapidly dehydrate me and exasperate my POTS symptoms. And if it’s chock-full of sugar, it’s even worse. But that answer feels drawn out, so I just say no.

“You can beg all you want, but my answer will still be no.” I flirt with him playfully.

Asher clicks his tongue. “You like it when I beg, Alora? I can grovel as much as you want, babe. Even get on my knees for you.”

The air on the back of my neck chills as someone steps behind me, so close that I can feel my dress shift from their nearness.

I can smell him—that cologne of his that is burned into my mind from the night he barged into my room.

Malik.

“ Asher .” His voice is sharp, each letter a serrated notch on a blade.

Blair hooks her arm in mine, pulling me out of Asher’s grasp, who turns to face Malik. “Come on. I’ll take you to get a nonalcoholic drink.”

I let Blair pull me a step away from the boys, but I can’t resist turning my head back just enough to see Malik staring at me with ferocity.

My lips part, and I suck in a sharp breath. There’s not just hatred and anger in his gaze. His purple eyes are on fire, burning red hot as he stares at me with a hunger I’ve never seen before.

He looks back to Asher, his jaw locked tight. He hooks his arm over his shoulders in the same way Asher did to me before dragging him in the opposite direction.

Turning my attention back to Blair, I find her and the blond guy staring at me with anticipation.

But I stay quiet.

“I’m Lumi.” The blond guy introduces himself as we walk into a huge white kitchen, the island transformed into a bar with a few bartenders mixing drinks. Who are most definitely not checking IDs.

But I’m not dumb. When you have wealth like this, rules and laws are guidelines, not requirements.

We stop in line behind a few girls swaying back and forth to the music.

“I’m Alora,” I tell him, my gaze bouncing between Blair and him.

“Spill it—” Lumi chuckles, but Blair cuts him off with a light smack on the chest.

“You don’t need to tell us anything,” she assures me.

“About what?” I ask, half playing dumb, half wondering how much they already know.

“Next!” the bartender in front of us calls out, and we step forward to the roped-off divider. “What can I get you guys?”

“Just water for me, please,” I order.

He quickly fills a cup with ice and water before handing it to me in mere seconds.

“Thank you,” I respond, and he nods.

“I’ll have a Sex on the Beach,” Lumi orders, followed by Blair’s, “Vodka cranberry, please.”

“Of course.” He steps away to get their drinks, grabbing bottles of liquor from the tiered tower behind him on the island.

Lifting my purse from where it dangles on my side, I dig a twenty-dollar bill from my wallet.

“You won’t need that,” Blair says, leaning toward me to talk over the music. “Drinks are free.”

“That seems like a dangerous thing to do for a bunch of college kids,” I retort, my mind running rampant with images of overly drunk guys and girls struggling to get home later tonight.

She shakes her head. “They have security, and the bartenders cut people off who get too intoxicated.”

Wow, that’s actually insanely … nice. Asher and Dean don’t have to go the extra miles that they have, but it speaks volumes for who they are as people. Protectors.

The bartender brings over their drinks and hands them off. I still give the bartender my twenty, not taking no for an answer. I’m sure they still take tips.

Blair starts walking away slowly, and Lumi and I follow behind. She snakes through the crowds of people, leading us who knows where.

One glass of water, and then I’ll go back home. I know Sunny is having a good time with her sitter, June, but I miss her and don’t want to be out too late anyway.

Bringing her here would have been so chaotic, and I’ll be just fine without her for a few hours, if I’m even here that long.

The crowds end, and a huge room opens before us. I spot Griffin as we pass through the arched walkway, sitting on a couch with two guys whose names I don’t know. But I recognize them from being with Malik from when we had our stare-off.

A sofa sits across from the couch, and two oversize chairs close the square in with a coffee table in the center.

“There you are. I was about to come find you.” Griffin beams, his entire face lighting up as he talks to Blair, lifting his arm for her to sit down and lean into.

“Oh, stop. It didn’t even take that long.” She giggles as Griffin leans down and peppers her with kisses on her cheek and hairline.

He whispers something to her, and her cheeks instantly redden. I feel myself staring, and I force myself to look away, feeling a twist in my chest.

I’ve always wanted something like that. A comfort and warmth. Unconditional love from someone you choose and who chooses you. I want that, but I won’t pressure someone into it. I’m patient and willing to wait for love to find me instead of trying to squeeze it into a mold that it’s not meant for.

Lumi walks around me and sits down next to Blair, crossing his legs and whipping his phone out instantly.

The sudden urge to pee makes me remember that I definitely didn’t do that before I left when I totally meant to. Dammit .

“Know where the restroom is?” I ask the group, setting my water down on the coffee table.

“I can show you. I’m going to head that way,” says one of the guys that I don’t recognize. “I’m Finn, by the way.”

Noted.

He smiles at me, and I offer my name. “I’m Alora. Nice to meet you.”

“I know who you are. But it’s nice to officially meet you.” He looks at me humorously.

My chest tightens. Oh God, why does he know me? Because of Blair? Or because of Malik? Because of my dad? All of the above?

“You know who I am?” I ask with a playful sass in my tone.

He nods and gestures with his hand to start walking. I join him, once again following someone through the intense crowds.

Finn leans down toward my ear to shout over the music. “I know you are the only person I’ve ever seen get under Malik’s skin. And that is something to be proud of.” He chuckles. “You’re my hero.”

I chuckle. He’s easy to talk with even though we just met.

“Be careful saying that too loud. Malik won’t like it.”

We turn down a hallway.

“What’s up between you guys anyway? Did you used to date?” he asks, and I choke on my spit.

Coughing a few times, I swallow past the agitated pain. “God, no.” I clear my throat. “We actually went to high school together.”

He widens his eyes in shock, clearly hearing this information for the first time. “Oh shit. Really? He didn’t mention that.”

I huff, rolling my eyes. “I’m sure he didn’t.”

His questions continue. “So, what is it then? Out of curiosity, what happened in high school?”

I’m already pushing the envelope tonight, so maybe I should refrain from exposing all of the shit he did to me. Then again, he never stopped to question his actions back then.

“Finn!” Dean races over to us, his gaze falling to me and instantly widening. “What’s, uh—” One side of his lips tips up, a gleam in his eyes. “What’s going on here? Whatever. Doesn’t matter. We need you.”

“Umm—” Finn hesitates, but Dean’s eyes widen, and stress tightens his features. “Yeah, uh, let’s go.”

Clearly some kind of silent conversation commenced. But I’m not privy to the details.

“Do you think you can find your way back?” Finn asks me, already stepping toward Dean.

“Yeah. Go. I’ll be fine!” I assure him, mentally tracing my steps back to the group.

He flashes me a smile before taking off after Dean, who is nearly running between people down the hallway.

Weird .

Doing my best to divert my attention back to my overfilled bladder, I try the handle to the bathroom, happy to find it unlocked and empty. I quickly lock the door behind me before taking my seat on the porcelain throne.

Feeling immensely better after peeing, I wash my hands and take a look in the mirror.

God, it’s eerie how similar I look to my mom when she was younger. The same eyes, nose, and lips. And the same long blonde hair.

My father used to tell me I was the spitting image of her. Which must be why he couldn’t stand to be around me as I got older, looking more and more like the woman he had loved and lost. That’s one of the excuses he gave me anyway.

Refreshing my lip gloss, I run my fingers through my loosely curled hair, detangling any errant strands. When I open the door to the bathroom, a girl rushes in past me, slamming the door behind her.

That would’ve been me had I waited any longer.

I giggle as I wander down the hall, taking a moment to appreciate the fine details in the design of the house. Crown molding; spotless, dark hardwood floor; intricately carved doorframes. Every room was custom built with character.

Turning the corner, I bump straight into someone. “Oh crap. I’m sorry!”

The tall guy with defined arms and shaggy brown hair smiles down at me. “Don’t be. I’m happy you ran into me.”

Something about him looks familiar, and a light bulb goes off in my head. It’s the guy from my dorm that called me pretty in the hallway.

What are the odds of that?

“Let me get you a drink. Your hands are empty.” His full lips outline his stark white smile, charisma oozing from him.

He’s cute. But I also don’t want to make Blair or anyone else wonder what happened or why I didn’t come back.

“I have a drink. It’s just back with my friends. I appreciate the offer though.” I rock on the balls of my feet, nerves fluttering in my stomach.

“How about some fresh air?” he offers, and to be honest, it sounds amazing. “Come on. I’ll behave, I promise. Although, fuck , you are the most stunning girl I’ve ever seen, and it’s going to be hard not to touch you.”

My cheeks warm from his compliment. There’s no harm in just a moment. Right?

“For one minute, then I have to get back.” I extend my hand, and his face lights up.

“I’ll be happy for just a minute with you,” he leans in and whispers in my ear as his fingers interlock with mine.

Is this stupid? Is it dumb to just go hang out with a guy I don’t know? Probably. But I deserve a chance at meeting someone .

I can hear my father’s tone in my ear, telling me this isn’t responsible. But I push his irritating voice away.

Besides, this guy is sweet. I have no reason yet to question his intentions.

As we approach the front doors, a cool breeze skates across my shoulders, and I shudder.

“Are you cold? We don’t have to go all the way out if you don’t want to.” His attentiveness doesn’t go unnoticed.

He’s in only a T-shirt and jeans, so I can’t imagine he’s much warmer than me. But my body temp is always fluctuating, so it’s hard to tell if it’s just me or the weather.

“Is here okay?” I ask, and he immediately nods.

“Yeah, of course.” He steps in front of me and turns to face me.

His hands lift to brush up and down my arms. Which actually does wonders to warm me up.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” he asks, inching closer to me until my hands are together and my elbows are bent, resting against his chest.

I think I’ve introduced myself more tonight than I have in the last couple of years. Or at least it feels that way.

“My name is Alor?—”

“Alora.” Malik’s deep and ragged voice slices through the air behind me, and I feel his breath flitter through my hair.

“Ravenwell?” The nice guy holding me looks up behind me with confusion. “What’s up? You two know each othe?—”

“Get your hands off of her.” Malik lashes out, grabbing my shoulders and yanking me back.

I stumble into him, my back flattening against his chest. “Malik, what the hell?!”

Hints of bergamot, ocean waves, and spiced vanilla wrap around me and I try to remind myself that I hate him even if he smells so good.

His hands stay on my shoulders, his fingers firmly planted on my neck, so I have no room to wiggle away.

He ignores me, focusing solely on the cute guy whose name I still haven’t even gotten.

“Is she with you?” He lifts his hands up in surrender. “My bad, bro. I didn’t know.”

Malik scoffs with disgust, and I can’t ignore the sting that pinches my heart. “Fuck no. But you still can’t touch her.”

Cute Guy cocks his head to the side, clearly just as confused as I am. “Then what’s the deal?”

I feel Malik stiffen behind me, and I notice how rigid his muscles are beneath his shirt and how seamlessly we line up together, even with our stark height difference.

“She’s been with almost every guy on our team, so trust me when I say you should stay clear of her.”

My ears begin to burn as my blood starts to boil.

“Excuse me?” I gasp, my head whipping around to glare at him, but he keeps me in place with his hands on my neck. “I have not!”

Lifting my arm up, I drop my elbow sharply into his ribs. He grunts, but doesn’t move a muscle or loosen his grip.

Cute Guy steps forward, standing taller and puffing up his chest. “And if I keep talking to her … then what? Huh?”

Malik chuckles hauntingly, the sound sending shivers down my spine.

I don’t have to see his face to know the daggers that are shooting the cute guy’s way.

Malik steps forward, guiding me right along with him, and he closes the distance between them. “Well, you seem to know my name, yet I don’t know yours. I imagine you’ve heard rumors about me too—violent ones. Want to find out if they’re true?”

Cute Guy holds his stare, but remains silent. I wait in nail-biting anticipation for him to say something snarky back to Malik.

But instead, he does the one thing I was hoping he wouldn’t do—he lets Malik win.

His stare drops to me, softening instantly. “Alora, it was nice meeting you. Maybe I’ll catch you around another time.”

“You won’t,” Malik grunts like a warning.

I stare at the cute guy with my jaw on the floor, absolutely speechless. Because what the hell just happened?

Cute Guy turns and walks the other way, disappearing back into the crowd, leaving me alone with Malik.

Twirling in his grasp, I look up at him and shove his chest with both of my hands, putting some much-needed distance between us.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I shove him again, and he backs up a step with my force. “Really, Malik? Grow the hell up!”

Something ignites behind his eyes, his lips tipping up into a smirk, and I don’t know if I should keep fighting or turn and run.

He laughs, soullessly and cold. “Oh, I need to grow up? Really ? Because it seems like you’re the one imagining that you could ever be close with my friends. That you could have a place at our table. You’re a joke .”

My eyes burn, welling with tears, no matter how hard I try to fight them back.

A lump forms in the back of my throat, and everything inside of me wants to run and hide. But there’s something else there—a rage that is desperate for release.

Malik continues to taunt me, leaning down so his face is mere inches from mine, his next words clear as day. “When are you going to learn, Alora? You’re a bug , insignificant and weak. You will never be more than that?—”

My hand lashes out, slapping his face with force I didn’t know I was capable of.

His head whips to the side, as he was completely taken off guard.

My palm instantly stings, burning the same way as my eyes. Tears drop from my lashes, rolling down my cheeks and falling to the floor between us, slicing through the tension in the air.

He’s frozen, leaning down and staring deep into my eyes with a rawness I wasn’t ready to see. But he doesn’t deserve my sympathy or mercy.

He deserves to feel the same pain I do.

I’m done playing it safe or calm and collected, as I was raised. I’m not a punching bag for anyone. Especially him .

This is what he’s done—turned me into someone I don’t even recognize.

“It’s sad, Malik. Pathetic really. That you hate yourself so deeply that you have to take it out on everyone else around you just to cope with the world.”

I stand up taller. My words leave my mouth, but they don’t sound like my own—confident, cold, and calculated. “But what’s even more disappointing is that you are a ball of wasted potential and effort. Your life has and always will amount to nothing . No matter how hard you try to prove to the world that you belong here, you don’t. But I do, and you damn well know it.”

His nostrils flare, and his mouth twists in disgust, but he says nothing in response, only stares at me with absolute rage.

Something clicks inside of me, something I’m not sure can ever be undone. But one thing’s for sure: I won’t fear Malik any longer. His power over me is gone for good. I’ll stick to my side of the world as long as he does the same.

Turning around, I cut off his chance to say anything at all as I stride away with my head held high, walking out of the front doors of the Kensington mansion.

* * *

Sunny and I barely left the room after the party this weekend. The next morning, I felt hungover even though I hadn’t had a single sip of alcohol. But I imagine it had more to do with the stress of dealing with Malik.

Stress can trigger my POTS symptoms occasionally, and it most definitely did on Friday night.

Saturday, when I woke up, I knew it was going to be a rough day. My head was already pounding, my feet and hands were cold, and I felt nauseous instantly. Sunny was extra attentive yesterday, not wandering more than a couple of feet from me the entire day. I was laid up in bed with my legs elevated, only getting up for bathroom breaks and to get food from the delivery drivers who brought me all of my meals.

One of the most annoying parts of an episode is the fact that I have to stay as hydrated as possible, but then I have to get up so much more than I want to because I have to pee constantly. Slowly sit up, ease into standing, and go slow, every time.

Thankfully, I felt a lot better yesterday and even more so this morning, so I can still attend my classes today. I wouldn’t be as stressed to attend them, but it’s the first day for my history one as it was scheduled to start a week late and I would hate to miss it.

My phone dings on my piano bench. I pick it up, finding a text from Blair.

Blair: Feeling better today?

When I left the party on Friday, I texted her as I got into a Lyft and let her know. I still felt horrible for just leaving. But I couldn’t be there any longer. I wanted to be home and in bed. I told her I wasn’t feeling well, which wasn’t a complete lie, as my episode started shortly after I relieved Sunny’s sitter.

Much better. Thank you!

Blair: Grab lunch or coffee soon?

I’d love to!

I know it’s safer to avoid her if I don’t want another Malik run-in. But she’s my friend, the first one I’ve met here that I trust. I haven’t known her long, but there’s something really genuine about her.

Stowing my phone in my purse, I slip my backpack on and grab Sunny’s leash, hooking it to her collar. Our first class of the day doesn’t start for another hour. But it’s a little bit of a walk, and I want to take it easy, especially since I felt so rough yesterday.

My phone chimes in my purse. I lead Sunny out of our room and hear it lock behind us before checking my phone, expecting a text from Blair.

But instead, it’s from an old friend—one of my only friends.

Phillip: Hey, Alora. I’m transferring to HEAU. I’ll be on campus tomorrow. Meet for coffee? I’ve missed you!

Are you serious?!

Phillip: One hundred percent!

Excitement skyrockets in my body. I haven’t seen him since I got back to the States. The year I took off after high school, I spent all of my time with him at his family’s place in Italy.

I’ve known him since I was really young. His dad's also a politician, and our dads were good friends once, forcing us to spend a lot of time together as kids. But we were never in the same place at the same time. He was studying overseas, and I was shipped off to live with my aunts in Avandale.

I can’t believe he’s actually going to be here. I sigh, feeling a tiny bit of weight fall off of my shoulders. I didn’t realize how lonely I had felt until now.

I like Blair a lot, and I think we’ll be great friends, but she’s in the same group as Malik. Being near her is being near him.

But Phillip is solely mine. He knows what Malik put me through and always threatened to beat his ass. Of course, I don’t want any unnecessary drama. But it would be nice to have some support on my side and brute force if Malik needs a lesson.

My mind flashes to the party and the moment I slapped him. I still feel like I blacked out when I snapped. I had a moment of fearlessness, but the fear has indeed returned. At least a little bit.

To be honest, I just want to forget all about him and just focus on my music and classes. But now there’s a new thing entirely I have to force from my mind—how good his hands felt on me, how his touch lit me on fire. Whether it was anger or something else, he ignited me in a way I’ve never felt before.

I want to forget it all, pretend he doesn’t even exist. Maybe Phillip can help me do just that.