Cruel King (Royal Elite 0)

Where the hell do his parents disappear to?

I grab a drink from a server — because it’s totally normal to have servers and butlers at teenagers’ parties — and down it in one shot.

“Liquid courage this early?” Dan asks with a slight lift in his lips before he throws one, too.

I submit my hair. “Okay, how do I look?”

“Badass.” He pulls my cheek. “You should’ve gone wild before.”

By going wild, Dan means that I wore the sinfully short denim shorts that he made me buy on a dare last year.

My lips are painted red and my hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail that I spent an hour trying to make it look right.

I wore a strapless black top, but against Dan’s suggestions, I did put on my matching denim jacket.

I might want to feel powerful, but I still want to crawl back into my comfort zone.

Which won’t happen.

Thus liquid courage.

Dan and I down tequila shots for what seems like half an hour before he starts getting fidgety.

I push him in the direction of a second-year girl who’s been watching him the entire time. “Go shag.”

He waggles an eyebrow. “Wanna join?”

I make a face. “You suck, bug.”

“I can suck.”

“Eww, Dan. Now, I need bleach, thanks a bunch.”

He makes two guns as he walks backwards with a grin. “Call me and we’re out of here, okay?”

That’s some commitment for Dan.

Tonight is different. I’m not bailing out.

I down one more shot. Woah. The tequila here is strong enough to make me spin.

Wait. Am I the one spinning, or is the room?

Fun.

I came here to have fun.

Although my feet are unsteady, I keep going on zigzag lines towards the football team where Ronan’s having his drinking competition.

I steal a shot from a passerby and mumble a sorry here and there when I stumble upon someone — or two.

The plan is to watch from afar. Like really afar.

I hide behind a leaf that adds some shadow to my face.

See, not noticeable at all.

Heat creeps up my neck and my arms. It’s freaking hot in here.