I could cry when she says that. Come to think of it, Morgan and Zoey never made plans that didn’t include me. Meanwhile, I’d hang out with Morgan alone on a regular basis. I’ve known Morgan four years, while I’ve known Zoey for thirteen.
This just goes to show that how long you’ve known someone doesn’t mean squat. The person you met a few days ago might just be the one to pull out the knife your oldest friend drove into your back.
“I guess that means I can finally say it.” She closes her eyes as though she wants to relish in it. “God, I hate that bitch.”
We both break into laughter.
“Get in here.” She sidles aside to let me in. Her house is the same it’s always been: clean, quiet, and empty. Morgan is an only child whose parents are often required to go out of town for work. From the moment she was old enough to stay home alone, her folks trusted her to take care and entertain herself, hence her avid reader lifestyle. She says she doesn’t mind the loneliness, but I think it’s taken a toll on her.
The second we crash onto her bed, Morgan asks about my falling-out with Zoey. I fill her in on everything, from beginning to end: how Zoey slept with Blake during our entire relationship, how she threatened to go after Will to hurt me, how I ended up telling Will that I was into Luke earlier so he’d let me go. Morgan listens carefully, her eyes filled with empathy. Until she sits up straight, her palm flying to her mouth.
“Oh my God.” She gasps.
“What?” I ask.
“We’re going out.” She leaps off her bed, digging through her walk-in closet for an outfit.
I chuckle. “Who are you, and what have you done to my best friend?”
“I’m serious. There’s a kegger on the beach tonight. It was all Zoey could talk about today. We have to go.”
“Why?” I groan.
“Because Will’s going to be there. And Zoey kept saying you were going to get what’s coming to you tonight.”
The pieces fall back together.
“He hates her. He’d never do that,” I counter.
“You just told him you were with Luke! He’s going to be all sad and miserable and drinking and… Don’t you see what’s happening here?” She holds her hands up. “You pain in the asses may be too freaking stubborn to get together already, but if you don’t go, you may never get the chance to try.”
She’s right…
Cornered, I nod, slinging my legs over the bed. Seems we’re going to a party tonight.
Will
The crowd is thick, the music loud, but nothing—absolutely nothing—could be louder than my self-hatred. Propped against a tree, I drag a sip of rum I don’t need, the glass bottle in my hands almost empty.
But you know what else is empty?
My fucking head.
No brain in there.
No, ma’am.
I almost had sex with her. On Kendrick’s bed, to make it worse. I almost took her. Hard. What the hell is wrong with me? I can still feel her squeezing me. Hear her shaky, unassuming moans when I finger-fucked her. She was so innocent, yet in perfect control, and it drives me completely crazy.
She drives me crazy.
It’s probably just lust. Nothing but my hormones speaking, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since that night. I thought if I gave in to the temptation, I’d be free.
Cured.
I was wrong. If anything, I’m growing sicker every day.
I only came to this lame-ass kegger because I was hoping she’d be there. Zoey always drags her to those kinds of things. What do I hope to achieve by being at the same party as her? Not a clue. But I couldn’t help myself after what she told me earlier. Luke fucking Jenson? Really? My blood boils as I recall them walking out of the school together. Who knows what they did all day? I visualize them going at it in the back seat of his car. On the hood. In the driver’s seat.