“Okay, I’m out. I’ll see you after?” I say to Stella.
“Yeah, meet me in the car park after class. We’ll head to ours to get ready and order food.”
“Sounds good,” I say, forcing a smile on my face as I think about what comes after all that.
Briefly, I wonder if I’ll be able to find a way to get out of the party and go home instead, but then I see the excitement in Stella’s eyes and my stomach sinks. I’m the world’s shittiest friend.
With a pained smile, I back away from their table and make my way over to the giant doors that provide my escape.
I stop to let someone else inside when I get there and make the mistake of looking over my shoulder.
The six of them are lost in a new conversation, probably an important one they couldn’t have in my presence.
My heart sinks.
The connection Stella and I share might be stronger than with any other friend I’ve had, but I’m achingly aware that I don’t belong in their world.
She’s one of them.
Part of their family.
I’m on the outside, with the wrong blood running through my veins.
I’m always going to be the outsider, and it’s only made worse by the fact that their leader wants me as far away from them all as possible.
With a sigh, I take a step forward, leaving them to it and making my way to the bathroom to wallow in self-pity.
I hate it.
I’ve felt a lot of things in my life, mostly anger. But this pity party I seem to be unable to drag myself out of right now is one of the worst.
I’ve always been alone. That’s something I’m more than used to. But to be a part of something and then be pushed to the sidelines—even if it is only in my own head—well, it fucking hurts.
I push open the door to the bathroom and immediately come face to face with three people I could really do without being anywhere near.
Teagan and Lylah turn their annoyingly beautiful resting bitch faces my way, and I swear they actually roll their eyes as if my mere presence is boring them.
“Excuse me,” I say, holding my head high.
There’s no way I’ll ever cower to these bitches.
I’m almost at the cubicle when Sloane’s voice pierces the air.
“He doesn’t want you, you know that, right?”
My spine straightens and my fists curl. The image of ploughing one into her perfectly symmetrical face flashes through my mind. I bet she wouldn’t look so irritatingly put together with blood gushing from her nose.
I’ve got a million responses on my tongue, but in my need to not get into another fight at school, especially days before Dad’s wedding, I bite down on the inside of my lips, physically stopping any cutting responses from spilling free.
I lock myself into the cubicle, but I can’t relax. Something tells me that comment was only the beginning.
“So you’ve seen his new penthouse,” Teagan starts before my arse has even hit the toilet.
“Oh. My. God. Yes!” Sloane gushes. “It’s amazing. And,” she adds. I can tell whatever is coming next is purely for my benefit, “I’m the only one to be invited in, other than the guys.”
I roll my eyes so hard it hurts. It’s no secret how selective Theo has been in inviting people into his new place. I’m not sure if that’s because the old one burned to the ground, or just because he was fed up with constantly having everyone and their wife inside, but he’s done a full one-eighty, keeping everyone but his inner circle—and Sloane the slut, it seems—out.
Since I made my excuses to avoid attending Stella’s Thanksgiving a few weeks ago, not feeling ready to face them all after the night at the Reapers compound, I’ve dodged any other invites to their new place. But I’ve overheard enough times just how antisocial Theo has become since getting his own place that no one else has access to. It makes me wonder which version of Theo is the real one. The one who allowed everyone to socialise in his house, or the recluse.