She slid my card through the reader and handed back my ID. “Will I see you there?”
“Probably not.” I grabbed the beers and headed back to the car, tossing them at Logan’s feet. He grumbled about it but lifted his big ass feet out of the way and made room.
I drove slower than usual when we passed the little house in front of my property. There wasn’t a car out front, but the light in one of the upstairs rooms was on. I couldn’t see shit through the lacy curtains, though.
“Hey, look,” Logan leaned over me and pointed to the window. “You’ve got neighbors now. You should bring them over some cookies and introduce yourself tomorrow.”
I didn’t bother responding to that. There were a handful of cars already parked outside the gate. I entered my code and drove up.
I took it slow down the winding, heavily forested path that led from the gate to the house. At the end of the path, the trees opened up for the house. It was a three-story mansion with turrets, winding staircases, and rooms full of heavy, antique wooden furniture. The story everyone got was that my dad lived here alone with me—that he was a reclusive stock trader who worked upstairs on the third floor. I said he didn’t give a shit about loud parties as long as nobody went up and bothered him.
Surprisingly, nobody ever seemed to question it. Openly inviting people over all the time actually hid the truth better than if I’d made a point of avoiding it.
The house sat beside a small lake with a dock. There was even a little island in the center of the lake that was so small you could spit from one side to the other. Once the alcohol was flowing, guys liked to swim out there and see who could be the last man standing in a drunken king of the hill style game.
When we pulled up, there were about a dozen or so people already loitering around. It was normal on a party night. People had started showing up earlier and earlier, and I usually didn’t give a shit. Today, it pissed me off.
Logan and I got out of the car to the sound of a small, but enthusiastic round of cheering.
“Tristan fucking Blackwood!” Roared a thin, tall guy I didn’t recognize.
I walked up to him. “Go home.”
He smiled, clearly confused. “Thought there was going to be a rager tonight. Right?”
“Not for you. All of you. Fuck off and go home.”
The group of kids shifted, like they weren’t sure if I was kidding. So, I gave the thin guy a hard shove that sent him stumbling backwards. “Go. The. Fuck. Home.”
That apparently sent the message, so they all walked off like scolded puppies toward the gate. I thought about what Logan had said in the car—about how I seemed to be going celibate on him.
“Not you two,” I said, catching the attention of two girls wearing short dresses near the back of the group. “You two come with me.”
One of the girls bulged her eyes excitedly at the other, and they started coming my way.
Before they reached me, Haisley walked up and slapped me across the face. My head turned with the surprising force of the blow. I was in a sour mood, but the sting of her palm almost felt good. It didn’t take much to calm myself and show her a casual smile. “Didn’t see you, Haisley.”
There were two general varieties of hot girls in high school. Type A, which was the type that tries to weaponize their femininity. They’re hot in a “I’ll suck your dick behind the bleachers and brag about it to my friends,” kind of way. Then there’s the Type B girls, who never seemed to belong in my world. They tended to be nice people. They usually wanted to wait until marriage to have sex or they just hadn’t met the right guy yet.
Haisley was a Type B, and until the end of last school year, we’d been as close to dating as I got—basically meaning I put a pause on any physical activity with other girls for her.
“That’s probably because your eyes were glued to their asses.” She held up a hand, stopping me before I could reply. “I didn’t show up to fight again. I just wanted to tell you that I’m still willing to try. It was good with us, and I don’t get why you suddenly started trying to push me away.”
“Like this?” I asked, taking her shoulders and turning her to walk her back down the path with everyone else.
She spun on me with tears in her eyes. “You’re such a fucking asshole.”
“Good,” I said, voice completely empty of emotion. “Remember that next time you think it would be a good idea to get back together.”