Truly Page 2

  “His dad owns a furniture store and his mom’s a teacher,” she says offhandedly.

  I note the beveled glass door and the black stone pillars that frame it. “How many couches do you have to sell to afford a place like this?”

  “That’s the part I forgot to mention.” She cringes, rifling around inside a potted plant sitting to the left of the entrance.

  Distorted bodies pass by the glass. Music and laughter seep through the crack below and my anxiety spikes. “What part?”

  “This isn’t just Ethan’s grad party.” A silver key glints under the porch light. I watch as she unlocks the door, then buries the key back into the dirt.

  “Oookkkkkaaaayyyy?” I draw the four-letter word out, adding at least three extra syllables.

  “It’s Ethan and Noah’s grad party. This is Noah’s house.” I blink at her at least ten times as I try to process this new information.

  Noah Tedesco, Newton High’s star point guard. He’s everything you’d expect from a wealthy jock who grew up his entire life being told he’s better than everyone else because of his jump shot. Tall with dark hair, whiskey eyes, and pouty lips. Girls go crazy over him. Guys trip over themselves just to be near him. Everyone loves him.

  Everyone but me.

  I turn on my heels to leave. Fuck this. Fuck Noah Tedesco.

  “Wait!” Becca grabs my shoulders, turning me back towards the party. “Devin’s thing with Noah is no longer your thing with Noah. Plus, almost everyone from our graduating class and most of the juniors are here. You probably won’t even see him.”

  Noah is Devin’s younger brother—only by two months, but still. They have the same dad, but different moms. Apparently, they were close when they were younger, then grew apart after their dad died. Now, they despise each other. No one knows why. Neither of them will talk about it. It’s just a known thing around the halls of Newton; the Tedesco boys are sworn enemies. Since I chose team Devin, Noah’s lackeys have made it a point to make my life a living hell.

  I’ve been called everything from stoner groupie to Devin’s cumdumpster, even though I’m a virgin. Being besties with Becca offers some protection, but Noah is Newton’s God. If he has a problem with you, the whole school has a problem with you.

  “I won’t see him...at his house...where he lives.” I deadpan. “Not to mention, you’re his best friend’s girlfriend, which means we are probably headed straight for them. Why would you even bring me here?” She rolls her eyes but doesn’t respond. “You know, sometimes, I think you’re a natural blonde.”

  Becca flips me off, pushing through the door, pulling me into the mouth of hell with her. “Tru, I love you, deep but you can be a fucking twat.”

  “I feel like there should be a rule that I don’t have to tell you I love you after you call me a twat,” I retort, staring up at the grand staircase just off the foyer. A few guys sit on the bottom stair, drinking from red plastic cups, too engrossed in a debate on beer pong vs. flip cup to notice our arrival.

  “Suggestion denied,” she says, pulling me deeper into the house.

  Family photos line the walls. One, in particular, catches my eye. In it, Noah, his mom, and his stepdad are dressed like they’re in an advertisement for Ralph Lauren. Noah and his mother stare impassively at the camera, while his stepdad flashes a toothy smile that sends chills down my spine. He looks like the kind of man who’s too wealthy, too entitled, to ever be satisfied with normalcy. Like the type who keeps sex slaves in his basement.

  “Fine...deep, deep.”

  “Big deep,” she finishes, leading me through the kitchen.

  We weave through bodies, making our way out the sliding glass door into the backyard. It’s as massive as the rest of the house. A pool sits in the center, a guest house just beyond that, and a barbecue pit that looks like an outdoor kitchen. Becca was right about one thing, there are people everywhere. The music is much louder back here. So is the laughter. I really don’t want to be here, but I doubt Becca is going to let me tap out five minutes in. My best shot is to wait for her to find Ethan, then slip away unnoticed.

  Becca gives my hand a reassuring squeeze before leading me into the chaos. She smiles and hugs people as we make our way through the crowd. Paige, one of Becca’s cheer friends, bounces over. Great. If anyone around here is a bunny boiler, it’s Paige.

  It isn’t that I don’t like her—strike that—I don’t like her, but she’s been auditioning for the role of Becca’s best friend since eleventh grade, which means she never misses the opportunity to throw jabs my way. She doesn’t, and I quote, understand why Becca is so attached to that purple-haired weirdo.

  “Becs!” she yells, tugging the hem of a tight pink dress that rides so high up her legs I can see the bottom of her ass cheeks. The tassel on her grad cap swings left and right as she speaks. “It’s about time you showed up. That slut, Lucy, has been sniffing around Ethan for the past hour.”

  Lucy is Ethan’s ex. They broke up a few months before Becca and Ethan started dating, but somehow, Lucy got it in her mind that Becca stole Ethan from her. Anyone with two brain cells knows that the timeline doesn’t make sense, but Lucy and her band of evil bitches only share the one.

  “Ethan knows better,” Becca replies. “And if he doesn’t, then he isn’t right for me.”

  I stare at my friend. I really do love her deep. At eighteen, she’s already this strong and self-assured woman. While the rest of us are staying local or heading downstate to Jameson, Becca’s heading to NYU. She knows exactly who she is and exactly who she wants to be—a lawyer, like her dad. Maybe, if I were more like her, Devin wouldn’t have broken up with me.

  Don’t go there Truly, I remind myself, as tears sting my eyes. “You don’t have to babysit me. Point me to the keg and go get your man.” Translation: Let me find a quiet corner where I can drink my sorrows away and play word games on my phone until enough time has passed that I can go home without raising any eyebrows.

  “Not happening. You’ll be on the first Uber out of here as soon as I turn my back.”

  “No, I wo—”

  “You are going to have fun and forget all about that loser, Devin, if it kills me.” She drops her hands on my shoulders, giving me a little shake before surveying the crowd. Her plush bottom lip puckers out as it usually does when her wheels are spinning. If she used even half of her powers for good, she could probably figure out world peace. Alas, that brain of hers only works for evil. She once got us out of first period gym class by telling our fresh-out-of-college male gym teacher that her new birth control was giving her hardcore cramps and an unusually heavy flow, and she needed me to come with her because she was feeling light-headed. “Let’s do a lap.”

  I twist the dainty gold band around my thumb and sigh, knowing that resistance is futile. “Fine. One lap.”

  Paige rolls her eyes. She’d probably pay for the Uber herself if it meant getting rid of me.

  Our first stop is the keg set up near the barbecue pit. A couple of junior guys wearing Newton High letter jackets—despite the balmy seventy-six-degree temperature—circle the keg, chatting about the basketball team’s chances at state now that Noah and Ethan have graduated. Everyone in this godforsaken town worships at Noah’s feet like he’s some ancient Greek deity. The whole high school hierarchy is bullshit. Kindness and intelligence mean fuckall, so long as you can dribble a ball.

  I spy an old treehouse a little further in the yard. It’s dark and quiet, and no one from the party seems to be venturing near it. I make a mental note to retreat there just as soon as Becca turns her back.

  “There they are,” Paige says, drawing my attention back to the present. She’s pointing at a group of guys, Ethan included, standing near the pool. He’s got a cup in one hand and the other is shoved in his pocket. Lucy is in front of him, staring up at him, giving off distinct down to fuck vibes. One of the guys spot us and pushes Ethan’s shoulder, pointing a red Solo cup in our direction. His pale blue eyes find Becca’s and
they light up.

  Becca turns her attention to the keg, filling a cup of cheap beer for me, then one for herself.

  “You’re not going to go and say hi?” Paige asks in disbelief.

  “He saw me,” she replies.

  As if on cue, Ethan saunters over with Lucy hot on his heels. “About time you showed up.” He sends Becca an easy smile. His hand settles low on her hip, and he pulls her into his side, like it’s where she belongs. “I see you finally got Tru to come out.” He lifts his cup, tapping the side of mine.

  “It’s a pity invite,” Lucy sneers, reminding me of all the reasons I should have never crossed the threshold. These people aren’t my friends. Hell, they’re not even each other’s friends. They’re forced together by fear and vanity. “Everyone knows her loser boyfriend broke up with her at commencement. How pathetic must you be if the town fuck-up dumps you?”

  Becca opens her mouth, but I put my hand on her arm to stop her. “Not as pathetic as someone who follows her ex-boyfriend around like a puppy, watching while he makes out with his new girlfriend.”

  “Stoner groupie bitch,” she spits back.

  “So, original.” I chug the remains of my cup and turn towards Becca. “I’m going to find the bathroom.”

  Turns out, the first-floor bathroom is really just the coke room. I stood in line for ten minutes without it moving before the kid at the front of the line banged on the door. Tony, former power forward of Newton’s men’s basketball team, popped his head out, white powder trapped in his sparse beard, and growled for us to fuck off. The three people in front of me opted to head out to the pool house since, apparently, no one is allowed upstairs without Noah’s permission. There’s no way I’m making it across the lawn without peeing my pants, or having a nervous breakdown, or both.

  Fuck Noah. I have a belly full of cheap beer. I need to pee, and I know there’s got to be more than one bathroom in this mansion.

  I make my way up the spiral staircase, checking every door on the second floor. I find a bathroom on my third attempt. Locking the door behind me, I relieve myself and wash my hands. I’m in no rush to head back down, so against my better judgment, I slip my phone from my pocket and open Instagram. It’s stupid, I know, but I do it anyway.

  Clicking on the app, I head straight to Devin’s page. There are no new posts, but there is a new story. It’s risky. He’ll know if I watched, but there’s a part of me—the pathetic part that’s hiding in a bathroom—that wants him to know I still care.

  Inhaling, I click on his profile picture and wait as the story loads. It’s a single slide, a picture of his grad cap and diploma, with the words, for you dad, plastered across the bottom. My chest constricts, and I rub absent circles around the scar on my wrist. Devin and I bonded over loss. His dad—my mom. I know exactly how hard days like today can be. I’d gotten ready, straightened my naturally curly hair, and painted my face, all while wishing she could be there to cheer embarrassingly loud as I walked across the stage. Would she be proud of the person I’d become?

  I wipe away a tear before it has a chance to fall, and close the app. My momma would lift my chin, fix my imaginary crown, and probably say something like, don’t cry, dry your eyes, baby girl, keep your head up, because that’s the type of woman she was. A little righteous, and a little ratchet.

  I suck in one more deep breath, then push out of the bathroom. The hall is empty, save for a pair of white and blue Nikes attached to long, lean legs, a trim waist, toned arms, and a head full of shaggy onyx hair. I pause mid-stride, my pulse pounding in my ears, as Noah scowls at me with the same whiskey eyes that Devin has.

  My hackles rise. After everything that’s happened today, a run in with this prick is about the last thing I need.

  “Parker.” He raises one bushy brow in my direction. He flips on the light and crosses the wide hallway in a few easy strides. He walks like a boy who led Newton to state three years in a row and has signed a letter of intent to play for Jameson University in the fall. Easy, self-important, and a little arrogant.

  “Tedesco,” I grunt, and attempt to brush past him. He can be pissed all he wants, but I’m not sticking around to hear him berate me for using the goddamn bathroom. I’ve had my fill of Tedesco men for a lifetime.

  “Whatcha doing here? Are you lost, Little One?” he asks, tagging me around the waist, and pushing my back against the wall. His hand stays planted on my hip, a move I’m sure is meant to intimidate me. Maybe yesterday it would have, but I’m too emotionally spent to be anything but irritated right now.

  “I needed to pee, and the downstairs bathroom looked like a scene from The Wolf of Wall Street,” I say, trying to pry his hand from my body. Noah hasn’t spoken so much as three words to me since I transferred to Newton, and now he’s touching me.

  “I don’t mean up here.” He twirls a finger around the general vicinity. His voice is low—an eerie cocktail of boredom injected with a hint of contempt. Like my very existence is a mild inconvenience at best. “I mean at this party. I thought you’d be celebrating graduation at The Grove tonight with the rest of the losers.” I cross my arms over my chest to hide my erratic heartbeat. I’m about two seconds away from exploding. I came to this party to forget about Devin, but everyone I run into throws him in my face. Taking my silence as a cue to continue, Noah smirks. “Don’t tell me the rumors are true.” Tears prickle in my eyes as he inches closer. “Don’t tell me my fuck-up brother really threw your ass to the curb at graduation?”

  He leans in until we are standing nose-to-nose. So close, I can make out the faint purple skin under his eye and the bit of dried blood under his nose. His long lean body presses me into the wall, and he lifts his hand, catching a tear that had no business falling on the tip of his thumb.

  I push Noah’s hand from my face. “You’re disgusting.” Noah and Devin may have the same dad—and the same features—but they are as different as night and day. Devin is sweet and sensitive, albeit a little misguided. Noah is an entitled jerk who ruled our school with fear and bought friends with his stepdad’s money. I can’t wait for the real world to smack him in his face. “Let me go.”

  He laughs, and the sound sends a chill down my spine. “He did, didn’t he?”

  I inhale, refusing to let this asshole have even an ounce of my pain. “Let me go, Noah.”

  He bites his bottom lip; his already dark eyes turn black as he presses forward, sandwiching me between him and the wall. We’re so close it’s like we’re fused; two atoms colliding, forever changed. I feel every inch of him, from his hardness jutting into my gut, to his whiskey scented breath dancing on my skin; Noah is everywhere. Realization slams into me like a freight train. We are alone up here. I’m alone with an entitled asshole who hates his brother enough to make me a casualty in their fucked-up family war.

  “I wonder if my brother would care that his little purple-haired princess is trapped by the big bad wolf.” His hand drops lower still, curving over the soft swell of my ass, and my heart stutters in my chest. “I bet he’d care if my tongue was in your mouth—between your lips—between your other lips.” For the first time during our little exchange, I notice the buzz of energy radiating off him. It’s wild, feral, like he’s a man with nothing to lose and everything to gain.

  “Noah, stop.” I try to push him away, but his arms tighten, like two steel beams wrapped around my body. He lifts me by my ass, settling my center over his dick. Panic seizes my gut. “I’m telling you no, a word I’m sure is foreign to you, but stop.” I can feel his smile on my neck, just before his mouth latches onto the skin there. I cry out a little from shock and a lot from terror. I’m alone with a drunk jock, and thanks to the party raging on outside, no one can even hear me scream.

  “Tell me something, Truly. Has my big brother ever been inside of you?”

  I weigh the pros and cons of being honest. If I tell him the truth, if I tell him I’m a virgin, would that spur him on or make him take pity on me? I bet on the latter. “I�
�m a virgin, okay. I’m as lame as you and your stupid friends think.”

  He smiles into my neck and releases me. I stumble away, my chest puffing up and down. My breaths are shallow and frenzied. Noah advances once more, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, and bopping me on the nose. “I see you, Truly. If my brother was stupid enough to drop you, you better fucking believe I’m going to pick you up. I will own you, every inch that belonged to him will be mine.” I swallow at the conviction in his words. At the finality of them. I stare up at the demons dancing in his eyes, and in that second, I know that I should run. I turn and bolt for the stairs. “You can run, Little One,” he calls after me. “But I will chase you, and I won’t stop until your innocence is smeared all over my cock.”

  Hours pass by like minutes in this teenage wasteland. A group of girls shriek, running drunkenly across the lawn, as the guys chase them. Plastic balls land unceremoniously inside of Styrofoam cups, while onlookers angle their phones, hoping to capture the moment for social media.

  I wander through the party, which started as a rager, then slowly transitioned to a kickback, watching as the group of friends I’ve spent the last three years avoiding, go from tipsy to drunk. My run-in with Noah set my skin on fire. I didn’t know if I should have been flattered or offended or some combination of the two. What I did know was that I should have bailed on the party altogether, but Becca was waiting for me at the bottom of the steps, with a shot in one hand and beer in the other.

  I lift the red cup to my lips and frown. When did I finish this? Great Truly, just awesome. Way to get drunk at the same party where you were nearly date raped.