Make You Beg

One thing about Lisa Holdings is she has expensive taste, just like all the rest of Westbrook. But hers isn’t gaudy. The house has a black-and-white-marble floor with a staircase on either side of the grand foyer. The railing and balcony on the second floor are black, the walls pristine white with silver accents. I love her house during Christmas time because she always puts a twenty-foot real Christmas tree in the middle of the foyer. It’s a sight to see it along with the lit-up garland. She always goes all out when it comes to decorating for holidays.

We make our way into the main kitchen, and I see the multicolored cups lined up on the large island. A piece of tape is sitting in front of each cup. In front of the red cup, it says taken. The blue cup says single, and the white one says it’s complicated.

I choose white because what part of my life isn’t complicated?

“What would you like?” Datson asks.

“Vodka,” I answer, holding my cup out to him. He removes the lid and pours a little in it. “More.” I’m here to get fucked up. One little shot isn’t going to do it.

“Tell me when,” he says, filling it.

I don’t. Instead, he stops once it’s to the rim. Bringing it to my lips, I begin to drink the poison like I’ve got a death wish. The burn has me pulling the drink away, and I start coughing, spitting some onto his shirt. I haven’t had a drink since the night at Death Valley five months ago.

“Are you okay?”

I nod, licking my lips. “It’s been a while.” My mother is much stricter than my father, and it sucks to drink alone anyway.

“Maybe take it easy …” He trails off as I bring the drink back to my lips and swallow another mouthful.

Turning away from the island, I grab a handful of cookies out of a glass bowl to wash down the taste.

“Hey, everything okay?” Jamie asks softly, placing her hand on my shoulder.

I nod. “I’m fine.”

She sighs heavily. “I think we should leave, Henley.”

“We’re fine, Jamie.”

She runs a hand through her hair nervously. “This is their territory, Hen. We’re not at school. We’re in Grayson Law’s house.” She lowers her voice. “You accused his best friend of rape and murder.”

I take another gulp at her words.

“And it’s not like they invited you personally.”

“What are you saying?” I ask, hissing in a breath at the burn. I’m not a threat to them. Not anymore. They just want to fuck with me. And I refuse to take that lying down. If they want to humiliate me, then I’ll make sure to return the favor.

“I’m saying them seeing you here is not a good idea.” She looks around nervously.

I do the same to see kids are staring at us while whispering into one another’s ears. Some are texting away on their phones. It’s obvious they’re talking about me and wondering what in the fuck I’m doing here. Some even lift their cells, and I know they’re filming us.

Leaning into her, I say, “I will not allow them to intimidate me. That’s what they want.” Then I throw back another gulp. “Let’s go, Datson,” I order.

He nods frantically and lets me grab his hand. We make our way into the living room, and I quickly scan the large open space. I don’t see them, but a part of me knew they wouldn’t be here. They’re downstairs right now getting high. That’s what they do after a game. It’s how they unwind. Plus, it’s still early. They will make their appearance, but it’ll be a grand entrance.

Just like school, everyone openly gawks at us. There is a platform over in the corner where a DJ is set up. Balloons float around the ceiling, and confetti covers the floor. I haven’t heard, but it’s not hard to see that they won their game. A part of me hates it. I wish they’d lose everything in their perfect little lives.

I pull Datson over to the couch. “Anyone sitting here?” I call out loud enough to be heard over the music.

A boy lets out an amused snort as he walks away, shaking his head at us. I sit and yank Datson down with me and throw back my drink as “Him and I” By Halsey and G-Eazy comes to an end.

RYAN SCOUT

I sit down in the wine cellar while “Popular Monster” by Falling In Reverse plays. Monroe sits to my right in a chair with a naked girl kneeling between his legs. His shirt lies next to her clothes, and his jeans are unzipped. Both of his hands are in her strawberry blond hair while she chokes on his cock. Varsity cheerleader at her finest hour—helping a player relax after a game.

On my left, Law’s smoking a joint. He passes it to me, and I take a hit as the door opens, and Laney enters the room. She comes to stand in front of me, placing her hands on her hips. “I need to speak to you?” Her eyes slide to the girl on her knees, and she snorts.