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Authors: Jennifer Snyder

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BOOK: Break You
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“Those are the shoes you’re wearing?” I asked, taking them in once more. They were some kind of crazy print with tones of seafoam green, purple, and gold. She was right. I thought they were hideous.

“You don’t like them. I can tell by looking at your face,” Paige laughed. “I knew you wouldn’t, that’s why I didn’t bother asking you which dress would go with them.”

Switching the lozenge from my right cheek to my left, I glanced down at them again. “You actually paid money for those things?”

“Yeah, I did,” Paige scoffed.

“You could have saved yourself a crapload of money by buying a white pair and giving Tinley some finger paints.”

Lauren burst into laughter. “I don’t know which is funnier to me right now—the thought of little Tinley decorating a pair of shoes for you, Paige, or the look on your face.”

Paige planted her hands on her hips and glared at us both, which made me think she looked even more ridiculous.

“Whatever.” She stalked off into her closet with a dress the same shade of seafoam green as on her shoes.

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

JASON

 

Nine o’clock on a Saturday night and I had just finished packing up the last of my grandfather’s things. This was what Coldcreek did to a person. It sucked them in and drained all the fun right out of them. I hated being back here, but there were things I needed to deal with that were more important than what I wanted for myself right now.

Like Gramps, he was one of those things… He was important.

Placing the last box I’d duct-taped shut on top of the others stacked neatly in the living room, I massaged my lower back and glanced around. I’d managed to box up my grandparents’ entire house in two days’ time. That had to be some sort of a record.

My cell went off from in my back pocket. I glanced at the screen and smirked. “Matt, man, what’s up?” I answered, proud of my happy tone.

Just because I was dealing with some depressing shit didn’t mean I needed to act all miserable around others. Suck it up—that was my grandfather’s motto. Too bad his own piece of advice didn’t apply to his current situation. There was no way to suck it up with what he was dealing with.

“Not much, man. Just wanted to see what you were up to. I know you’ve been busy since you’ve been back, but think you wanna take a break and hit up a party at Norhurst?”

His voice was firm, but I could hear the uncertainty in his words. They were laced with it—that and sympathy. That pissed me off. I didn’t want sympathy, didn’t
do
sympathy. That’s why I ran last time I was in a similar situation.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll come,” I said, playing it off more than cool. “Let me head back to my mom’s place and shower first.”

“Awesome. I’ll head there in about thirty to pick you up,” Matt said.

There was a level of relief etched into his words. I could feel the same thing trickle through my system. Honestly, after the last two days I’d had, a night out might do me some good.

* * * *

True to his word, Matt was at my mom’s door in thirty minutes and we were headed toward Norhurst with some crazy techno song I’d never heard before blaring out of his speakers. I rolled my window down a little more, already feeling a headache coming on.

“Since when did you start listening to this shit?” I asked, unable to bite my tongue any longer.

“This
shit
,” Matt said, “is fucking awesome. Listen to that beat, man.” His hands drummed against the steering wheel in perfect sync with the bass as it crashed through the speakers. I cracked a grin at him and chuckled. The Matt Daniels I’d known back in high school would have never listened to this type of music.

This was proof that the old saying about time changing people was true.

“So what are you, like a raver now or something?” I asked.

Matt turned the radio up a notch. His head and body began moving with the beat even harder as he thrashed against the steering wheel, looking more like someone with Tourettes than someone dancing to a beat while driving.

“Some nights…but not tonight,” he answered with a smirk. “Tonight is all about drinking.”

“I can get down with that.”

Gripping the oh-shit handle as Matt rounded a corner a little faster than he should, I laughed and decided I’d allow myself this one night of fun. One night before I had to head back to Tennessee and take my dreaded finals and then return to Coldcreek for an undetermined length of time for a crash course in reality.

We turned down a street slammed with cars parked on either side and people walking in all directions. It was a little narrow in a few places for my liking, which made me glad I wasn’t the one driving.

“Jesus, I’m glad I got the radiator fixed before this fucking party,” Matt said. He turned down the music and I knew he was tense. “My fucking car would have overheated by now for sure otherwise, because of this freaking slow-ass pace.”

I didn’t say anything. Instead, I kept my eyes trained out my window. Norhurst University was a nice place. I hadn’t been here since I was a high schooler crashing college parties. That seemed like forever ago. But if old Gramps hung on longer than we all thought he would, me enrolling here might become a reality in the fall.

A group of girls staggering down the road caught my eye. The one on the far end had the right side of her tube top slid down just enough to show the beginnings of her little pink nipple. She was completely plastered, I knew this, but it didn’t stop me from staring. Her friend in the middle rolled her ankle in her super high heels and fell flat on her face. The short skirt she wore flipped up, giving me and Matt a front-row seat to view her lacy black thong as we drove past. Matt catcalled out my window at her and I grinned.

If I did have to enroll here in the fall, and Norhurst was going to be like
this
every weekend, then I figured I’d manage just fine.

Matt slung his Camaro into a spot and cut the engine. Rolling up my window, I opened my door and stepped out into the night air. There was a slight breeze, but it did nothing to lessen the humidity in the air. At this rate it was going to be one fucking hot summer.

“Lock it,” Matt instructed. He rounded the car, rubbing the palms of his hands together. A shit-eating grin plastered itself on his face.

“I did,” I said.

We started through the crammed parking lot and I glanced at the cluster of brick apartments ahead. It looked like there was a party going on in just about all of them. Everyone seemed to be in need of releasing some pre-finals tension.

“Which building are we headed to?” I asked Matt after we bypassed a few with some lovely ladies standing outside.

“Two more down,” Matt said. “It’s my buddy Roy’s place. You remember Roy Archer?”

Two more buildings down? Jesus, I hadn’t known we’d be walking a freaking mile to get there. Talk about taking the first parking space available.

“Roy Archer? Tall, lanky guy?” I asked, not sure I was thinking of the right guy.

“Yeah, always looked like he was stoned, even though he swore he never smoked.”

I laughed. “I remember him.”

“It’s his party and it’s supposed to be kick-ass.”

Comparing my version of kick-ass to what Matt’s might be, I prayed they were the same. Or at least somewhat similar.

“This is the one,” Matt said as we neared a building that couldn’t be packed with anymore people. “All right!”

Matt began to bob his head with the music that blared out of the apartment and flowed to the sidewalk where we were. I weaved my way through the maze of people standing around talking, following Matt inside while hoping he was heading straight for the alcohol. The music mixed with the sounds of people shouting the word “Chug” repeatedly the farther inside we made it. The first thing I noticed as we stepped into the tiny, white-walled living room was the keg sitting smack in the center. Some scrawny-looking guy without a shirt on was doing a keg stand. This was why everyone was chanting.

“Damn, that little guy can chug,” I said to Matt in awe.

“That’s Roy and he sure as shit can.”

When Roy finally flipped off the keg, his face was beet red and he looked slightly dizzy, but he regained his composure quickly. The room burst into hoots and hollers. Roy took a bow and grinned like a motherfucker, enjoying his twenty seconds of fame. Random people held twenties out to him and he collected them all with a smirk.

“What’s up, man,” Matt shouted as he walked to Roy’s side.

I looked Roy over, thinking he hadn’t changed a bit since high school. He still looked as though he’d just finished smoking a doobie.

“Cashin’ in, brother,” Roy said over the music. “What’s up?”

“Nothin’ much, just brought my boy here who’s in town for a minute to have a little fun before he has to head back home tomorrow,” Matt replied. “You remember Jason, right?”

Roy looked at me and nodded in recognition. “Yeah. Bryant, right?”

“That’s me,” I said. Introductions were always awkward, even if I’d already met the guy three years ago in high school.

Matt cut in front of some short, pudgy girl with a side ponytail and grabbed a red plastic cup. He cocked it to the side and filled it up with frothy goodness. Passing it to me, he grabbed up another for himself. The girl behind him merely scowled, but didn’t protest.

Putting the cup to my lips, I took a long guzzle while scanning around the crowded apartment. There wasn’t much to look at; the place was tiny. A group of girls standing in the kitchen caught my eye. The one in the green dress had a bangin’ body and one of those cute little faces that hinted at innocence. I swore she looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her. Matt said something then, but I didn’t catch it.

“What’d you say?” I asked, taking another swig of my drink.

“I asked you if you wanted to smoke?” He held a joint between his fingers out to me.

“Nah, man. I’m cool for right now.”

I didn’t care for weed. Never had. Seeing Matt toke up made me think of just how much he’d changed over the last three years. He’d always been a drinker, known to pop a pill or two here and there, but never a stoner. Matt passed the joint to some girl with blue streaks in her hair who was now hanging on him and exhaled.

 “You sure?” he asked me again.

“Yeah.”

I shifted my gaze back to the cluster of three girls standing in the tiny kitchen. Some douchebag guy now stood with them. The girl who I’d thought looked familiar was hanging on his every word and I wondered if they were a couple or if she was just reeling him in for a one-night stand. I stood there, watching her and thinking she was just the type of girl I needed right now—innocent face with a tad of kinkiness shining through her eyes. She leaned to her right and onto her friend’s shoulder while laughing hysterically at whatever the douche she stood with had said, and then there she was. The girl I’d always thought of as an unobtainable pass in high school—Blaire Hayes.

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

BLAIRE

 

My throat was scratchy. I wished I’d brought another throat lozenge with me, but Paige had said my clutch purse didn’t go with my dress and that there was no point in even bringing it. Reluctantly, I’d listened to her and now I wished I hadn’t. Maybe I should have worn something with pockets.

“Yeah, it was a wild weekend,” Craig Owen said. He was trying a little too hard for my taste to seem cool, but Paige was eating it up. “You lovely ladies should come with me some time.”

“Tubing could be fun,” Paige said. She batted her heavily coated eyelashes and flashed him a sexy grin.

Horrible. This guy was a douche, couldn’t she see that? I took a long sip of my drink to ease my scratchy throat while at the same time to keep me from saying something rude.

“Oh, it’s fun and with you there…it would be even funner,” Craig said. Funner wasn’t even a word. Loser. His eyes trailed down the length of Paige and I knew he was insinuating seeing her in a bikini would be fun. “We tether a few extra tubes to some of ours and let the coolers crammed with tasty beverages float along with us.”

“I need to use the restroom. Blaire, will you come with me?” Lauren asked. She didn’t wait for me to answer. Instead, she tugged on my arm and pulled me into the narrow hallway with her. “Wipe that bitchy look off your face,” she scolded me as we pushed our way toward the bathroom.

“Bitchy look?”

“Yeah, bitchy look. Paige looks like she’s having a good time,” Lauren said. “Be happy for her and try to have a good time too.”

 “I am having a good time. See, this is me having a good time.” I took a swig of my drink and smiled. “And I am happy Paige is having fun. I just think Craig seems sort of conceited and dim-witted. She always goes for the asshats and then wonders why they treat her like shit. This guy seems like one-night stand material, like he makes it his life goal to rack up as many as he can or something.”

We continued down the constricted hall in search of a bathroom. I was pretty sure it would be the door around the little corner at the end.

“Maybe, but that’s exactly what she needs after Karl… A sexy as shit, conceited, one-night stand.” Lauren smirked.

“I guess.” I rolled my eyes.

Lauren slipped into the bathroom while I waited in the hall. Taking another sip of my drink, I pulled open the bi-fold closet door to my right and peeked inside. I was sure all that was behind it was a mildew-scented washer and dryer set, but even so, I was curious. These apartments were a little on the small side, but the appliances in the kitchen had looked brand new as well as the countertops, and I found myself wondering if the washer and dryer would be too. There was a nice front-loading set gleaming at me in the dim light of the hallway. I scrunched up my face, wishing our apartment had come with a set like that.

“Blaire, what are you doing?” Lauren asked slowly from behind me.

I spun, startled, and busted my elbow on the closet door. Lauren was looking at me like I was nuts.

“Jesus, you scared me.” I pressed my hand to my chest. “I didn’t even hear the bathroom door open.”

BOOK: Break You
7.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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