When it came to parties, Ainsley wasn’t easily deterred. “This is our senior year. We have to start it out with a bang. And… it’s one of the Elite’s parties. Aren’t you the least bit interested in seeing you-know-who?”
I frowned and replied, “Nope.”
“Josie.” She let out a dramatic sigh.
I made a face at the phone, not wanting to admit there was a teeny part of me that wanted to see Brock. I shouldn’t, but a little sliver of intrigue lived inside me, whispering in my ear. “I honestly don’t give a shit about the Elite.”
She made a snorting sound in a way that called me a liar. The thing about only having one best friend was that they relied on you to be their sidekick for everything. “A ton of people from the Academy will be there. It would be great way to scope out your class.” Leave it to Ainsley to find a convincing argument.
I had to admit, it would be nice to know one person when school started next week. I closed my eyes and knew I was going to regret this, like I almost regretted picking up the phone.
“Everyone from Public is crashing. It will be epic,” she insisted. Through the phone, I heard her fumbling around in a drawer, probably her tower of makeup. It was such a mess, but Ainsley loved beauty like I loved mint chocolate ice cream.
This wouldn’t be the first or probably the last party I’d crashed. It was a common occurrence in Elmwood.
I put her on speaker so I could check my social media. She was right. In the half hour since the last time I scrolled through, my feed had exploded with updates about the party at Grayson Edwards’s house tonight. “One last party,” I murmured while scrolling past one update after another.
“Don’t make me go alone, Jos,” she whined. “Who else is going to carry my drunk ass home?”
I sat up on the bed and ran my hands over my face. “Fine. I’ll go, but you so owe me big-time for this.”
She squealed in my ear. “Pick me up in an hour.”
* * *
It took me thirty minutes to shower, dry my hair, apply some simple makeup, and get dressed. I checked myself in the mirror as I smoothed a loose pink curl back into place. The white tank top I wore opened in the back, showing off my tan shoulders. I turned to check out my ass in the dark denim shorts, satisfied that I was revealing just the right amount of skin.
Snatching my keys and phone off the dresser, I shoved my phone into my back pocket and headed down the stairs. Quiet echoed through the halls as I walked toward the garage. I waved at Edmund, the head of security and Steven’s driver, and headed through the door.
I halted in the driveway. “Shit,” I mumbled, staring at the spot where my car had been parked. It was gone. “Motherfucker.” I couldn’t believe it. She actually sold my car.
“Looking for this?” Edmund asked from behind me.
I turned around to see him holding a gold ring with a key fob attached to it, a warm smile on his lips. Edmond looked like he was in his late thirties and was built like a linebacker. The black suit he wore fit snugly against his wide shoulders.
Giving him a less-than-thrilled expression, I walked up to him and took the key. “Thanks,” I muttered.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “She drives like a dream,” he said, “I promise. But if you don’t want to take out the Lexus, I could always drive you to where you need to go, miss.”
I coughed. “Uh, no. Thanks for the offer, big guy. I can drive myself.” Reluctantly, I dragged my ass to the Lexus and slid inside. The rich, black leather glided underneath me. I hated to admit, but it was the comfiest seat I’d ever sat in. My fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, testing out the feel. As sick as this ride was, it wasn’t my Corolla.
Emotion swelled up, and I took a deep breath, willing the hurt away. Later, when I had a minute to myself and I wouldn’t risk ruining my makeup, I would bawl my eyes out.
I pushed the start button, and the car purred to life like a panther kitten. I exhaled and backed the car down the driveway, then shifted it into drive. As the gate swung open, I pictured my mother’s face and slammed my foot on the gas. The Lexus shot down the road, trembling with power.
Fifteen minutes later, I pulled up to Ainsley’s house, a record time. She was waiting at the curb, her hair pulled into a high ponytail, a waterfall of colors. She leaned down into the open window, peering inside at me. “Holy. Shit. Please tell me this is yours?”
I grimaced. “Yeah. Now get in before I change my mind and go home.”
She was grinning like an idiot as I pulled away from her house.
The party was insane by the time we arrived, cars jam-packed on the street and more than a few on the lawn. Only an Elite party would have valet parking. I cruised past the large iron gate onto the paved semi-circle driveway and stopped the car, handing the key fob over to some guy who promised to treat her right.
I rolled my eyes, not caring if he drove the Lexus into a brick wall.
Ainsley swung her arm on my shoulders and did a little dance of excitement as we walked up the pathway. Music greeted us, blasting different genres from various stereo systems. I couldn’t tell one song from another, but no one cared.
Grayson’s house—correction, mansion—was jaw-dropping. I craned my neck back, taking in the impressive sight of the cream-colored exterior with four massive columns that climbed up two stories.