I failed to see her pull out her phone as our group moved inside.
Inside there were people everywhere; each room was packed tight. A few tables were set up in the corners for some card playing. I knew from previous experience that the dance floor was in the basement, but the bass of the music pounded throughout the entire house. The second, third, and fourth floors were the bedrooms—hookups and smaller parties usually congregated there.
Apparently tonight was different because the main floor had been turned into a dance floor, along with the patio outside.
I felt Tray grab my hand and pull me towards the kitchen area. He shelled out some money for our cups. After they had been filled from a keg, he gave one to me. Pulling me closer, he murmured in my ear, “You here to work?”
I tilted my head back, my lips brushing against his ear, a hand braced on his chest. “Yeah. Some of my old crew is here, they might be willing to help me out.”
He nodded and turned into the crowd, leaving me alone.
I didn’t notice how some of the crowd stopped to watch us.
Pushing through the room, I worked my way through the crowd, smiling in return to a few greetings, some from those who recognized me from Pedlam, some just from drunken pervs.
Finally, I pushed my way into a backroom. I saw that Tray had taken root against the wall off to the side. He was swamped on both sides by people. Some were Rawley students, I recognized Tamira Case from another school I briefly attended—from what I remember, Tray was exactly her type—there were others that I didn’t recognize. Tray had an atmosphere around him that told the world that he didn’t give a damn about anyone or anything; it made him all the more appealing.
On the other side of the room, was Crispin Gentley, also surrounded by bimbos—okay, to be fair they were cheerleaders—and jocks—okay, to be fair they were cheerleaders. I saw Tracy Hardkins and Kimberly Ringsworld. They were at the top of the food chain in Pedlam. I groaned softly. I saw Crispin’s eyes grow wide, falling on me at the same time I saw the person I had been searching the entire house for: Grayley.
Grayley fit in with anyone—it was one of his gifts. He was a pretty likeable guy and pretty popular. He had become friends with me and Brian years ago; he was also Geezer’s best friend so I knew I could trust him. I knew he wouldn’t say anything to Brian or Crispin, but as I took a step in his direction, I gritted my teeth, finding myself blocked by the Crispin Gentley.
“Well, well, well,” was all he said, in a tone like I was a mouse caught in a cat’s paw.
It set my teeth on edge and I knew that Tray was watching intently.
I didn’t say anything, but just waited for him to finish.
“Looking good, Rosette.”
“It’s Matthews now,” I stated.
“Oh right. I heard that you’d gotten adopted. Good family, I hope?” He chuckled.
He didn’t give one damn. We both knew it.
“Get lost, Gentley. I’m not here for you.”
He laughed outright at that one, tipping his head back, his perfect teeth blinding. “I’ve forgotten this. You and me. Our little…foreplay—”
I smirked, moving closer a step. “Oh, honey, when it’s foreplay, you’ll know. You’ve never gotten close.”
Grayley had finally noticed us and I saw him starting to push his way through the crowd towards me, a look of panic on his face. That made me frown slightly…
“Come now, Rosette…now that you’re free from Lanser, we don’t have to continue this little game,” he coaxed.
Grayley was almost to us and the pale color on his face was more distracting than Gentley’s repulsive comments.
I struck out without thinking, taunting him, “Oh, little Crispin, just a poor neglected boy. Always hiding in the closet, his little G.I. Joe clasped tightly in his hands, afraid his abusive, drunk daddy will find out his secret…he wet the bed last night in a long run of nights.” I stepped back. “It explains a lot.”
Crispin had fallen silent, just watching me, not letting any emotion show.
So I continued, “At least that’s what your file says about how you developed your over-compensatory behaviors, pretending you’re Mr. Sex God—so full of sexual prowess, when in fact—”
But I was cut off as Grayley flung himself in between us, pushing me back, facing Crispin and saying urgently, “She’s drunk, Gentley. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
Crispin was seething in a tightly controlled rage as his eyes flickered over mine, leaving me cold. “She better remember where to step, Grayley.”
I leaned over Grayley’s shoulder. “It’s not the only thing I read in your file. Want me to share your other secrets?”