“Fight, fight, fight!” someone starts chanting.
“Take off your tops and settle it like women!” a dude yells.
I give him the dirtiest look. “Go fuck yourself.” I look back at Beth. “And I didn’t kiss your boyfriend. He kissed me.”
I push past her, not wanting to get into this here, or anywhere really. I knew Beth went to school here, but I honestly didn’t expect to see her at a house party. This isn’t Matt’s scene.
She reaches out and grabs me roughly by the elbow.
“I don’t want you seeing him.”
I rip myself out of her grasp. I am not a violent person, but my blood is already boiling at the fact that Matt lied to her about me, and with all that’s been happening tonight and the last week, I don’t trust myself. I’m certainly not in the mood to be pushed around.
“Won’t be a problem, Beth,” I tell her, moving through the party now, needing to get out of here before I do something stupid. I know I should find Elle and Meiko first, but honestly I can’t stick around here any longer.
I pull up the Uber app and secure a car, then step outside into the fresh air. I walk down the steps, down the path to the curb, and then raise my face to the mist, taking a moment to breathe in deep, clear the cobwebs.
What a fucking bullshit night.
I wait a few minutes for the Uber, texting Elle, telling her I’m leaving, wishing I had Meiko’s number to do the same. I know I should go back in there, but I don’t know how long they’re going to be, and after that confrontation with Beth, I just want to go home and go to bed where I feel safe. Something about it all makes me feel so undone and unraveled, and I hate myself for being so sensitive.
A black car pulls up, a guy rolling down the window. It’s the first car I’ve seen on the road in the last couple of minutes.
Please let this be my ride.
“Lenore Warwick?” he asks.
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Yeah, that’s me.”
I open the back door and slide on in. It’s nice, leather seats, and smells like cologne, though I’m disappointed to not find any bottled water or mints.
“To the city?” the driver asks me.
I look up and meet his eyes in the rearview mirror. He’s actually pretty cute, dark hair that curls over his forehead and intense dark brown eyes that don’t seem to blink.
“Yup,” I tell him, doing my seatbelt.
He does a U-turn on the road and starts driving up the hill.
“Wha…” I say, looking behind me for a moment. “Isn’t it easier to go down into Berkeley?”
“There’s an accident down below,” he says. And then he reaches over and turns up the volume on the radio. Nick Cave’s “Red Right Hand” is playing from the speakers.
“Oh,” I say, sitting back.
A wave of uneasiness slinks through my gut.
The driver gestures to his Waze app that he has running on his iPad mounted to the dash, but I can’t make heads or tails of it.
The music seems to keep repeating over and over again from the stereo, making me feel like I’m in a hypnotic time loop. I start nodding off.
Stay awake, a voice says in my head. Stay alert.
I open my eyes, focusing on the scene. I’m still in the back of the Uber, still climbing up the road, from the glances down below it looks like civilization is dropping away behind us.
I glance up at the rearview mirror and catch the eyes of the driver.
He’s looking right at me.