After (After 1)

“All right, I will be back soon. Lock the door when I go out and don’t open it again—I have a key.” He swiftly kisses my lips and turns for the door.

“Geez, you act like someone is going to murder me,” I joke, to break the tension, not that he returns the laugh before walking out of the room. I roll my eyes but lock the door anyway; the last thing I want to deal with is drunk people wandering in here looking for a place to fool around.

I turn on his television, hoping to drown out some of the noise from downstairs, but my mind keeps wandering to what’s going on down there. Why is Hardin so intimidated by Jace, and why is Jace such a creep? Are they playing their usual immature game of Truth or Dare again? What if Hardin is dared to kiss Molly? What if she is sitting on his lap like before? I hate the jealousy that I feel toward her—it drives me insane. I know Hardin has slept with and fooled around with many different girls, Steph included, but Molly just gets under my skin. Maybe it’s because I know she doesn’t like me and she tries to shove her fling with Hardin down my throat.

And you caught her straddling him with her tongue down his throat the first time you met her, my subconscious reminds me.

And eventually all these thoughts get to me; I know I should stay put and keep the door locked, but my feet have other plans and before I know it, I am taking the steps two at a time to find Hardin.

When I reach the bottom of the stairs I spot Molly’s hideous pink hair and barely there outfit. Much to my relief, Hardin isn’t anywhere to be found.

“Well, well, well,” a voice from behind me says. I turn to see Jace standing less than a foot away.

“Hardin said you weren’t feeling well. He’s always lying, that one.” He smiles and pulls a lighter out of his pocket. He flicks the top with his thumb, igniting the flame, and brings it to the hem of his jean vest to burn off some of the fringe.

I decide to keep Hardin’s lie going. “I wasn’t, but I’m feeling a bit better now.”

“So quickly?” He laughs, obviously amused.

The room feels much smaller now and the party crowd seems larger. I nod and survey the room, desperate to find Hardin.

“Come, I want you to meet some of my friends,” Jace says. His voice never fails to send a shiver down my spine.

“Um . . . I think I sh-should find Hardin,” I stutter.

“Aww, come on. Hardin is over there with them anyway,” he says and moves to put his arm over my shoulder.

I take a step aside to pretend that I didn’t notice his gesture. I consider going back upstairs so Hardin doesn’t know I came down in the first place, but I get the feeling Jace will follow me or tell Hardin. Most likely both.

“Okay,” I say, giving in. I follow Jace through the crowd, and he leads me outside to the backyard. It’s dark but for a few porch lights. I start to feel nervous about following Jace out into the dark yard until my eyes meet Hardin’s. His widen with surprise, then anger, and he moves to stand up but then sits back down.

“Look who I found wandering around all by herself,” Jace says and gestures to me.

“I see that,” Hardin mumbles. He is pissed.

I stand in front of the small circle of unrecognizable faces sitting around what looks like a fire pit made from large rocks, not that there’s any fire going. There are some girls there, but mostly it’s pretty tough-looking guys.

“Come here,” Hardin says and scoots over so there is room for me on the rock that he is sitting on.

I take a seat and Hardin gives me a look that says if all these people weren’t around he would be absolutely screaming at me. Jace leans over and says something into the ear of a guy with a ripped-up white shirt and black hair.

“Why aren’t you in my room?” Hardin says quietly but forcefully.

“I . . . I don’t know. I thought maybe Molly . . .” I begin to say but realize how stupid it sounds.

“You’re not serious,” he says with a hint of exasperation and runs his hand over his hair. The attention is put back on us when the black-haired guy hands me a bottle of vodka. “She doesn’t drink,” Hardin says and grabs it out of my hands.

“Damn, Scott, she can speak for herself,” another guy says. He has a nice smile and doesn’t seem as creepy as Jace or the guy with the black hair.

Hardin laughs lightly, though I can tell it’s a fake laugh. “Mind your own business, Ronnie,” Hardin says in a light tone.

“So who’s up for a game?” Jace asks and I look at Hardin.

“Please tell me you guys don’t play Truth or Dare at parties too. Honestly, what is up with playing games, anyway?” I groan.

“Ooh, I like her. Nice and feisty,” Ronnie says and I laugh.

“Who says there is anything wrong with playing a few games now and then?” Jace slurs and Hardin tenses next to me.

“No, actually we were thinking of strip poker,” another guy says.

“Oh, no way,” I tell them.

“What about suck and blow?” Jace says and I cringe and blush. I am not sure what that is, but it doesn’t sound like something I want to play with this group.

“Never heard of it. But no, thanks,” I say. I see Hardin smile out of the corner of my eye.

“It’s a fun game, more fun when you have had a drink or two,” a male voice says from somewhere.

I think about grabbing the bottle from Hardin and taking a drink, but I have to get up early and I don’t want to have a hangover.

“We don’t have enough girls to play suck and blow, anyway,” Ronnie says.