Once they’re far enough away, Emilio bends over and helps me up. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Lesley’s worse than me.”
“I’m good, no worries. Those fucking handsy assholes grabbed at every inch of me and still didn’t find the damn key.” She grins and winks at me. “But now I have to do something really gross.” She sighs and steps away from Terrence before shoving two fingers down her throat and puking into the grass.
“Oh, shit,” Terrence says, backing off. “What the hell, Les?”
Lesley kneels down and pokes around before coming up with a small golden key and a huge grin on her face. “Got it.”
“You’re insane,” I say and we burst out laughing together.
The boys stand there sharing a look, not sure what the hell to make of us, as I sling an arm across her shoulder and we stagger off together toward Calico House, the puke-slick key held up high in the air like a trophy.
Chapter16
Emilio
After Cask’s successful beach party, I have to throw something even larger, more raucous, even more insane, or else suffer the shame of being bested by a second-rate society at best. Which means I’m off on a smuggling run to the coast the next day, unloading that evening, and planning and prepping the festivities the following day.
Terrence and Jayson stack the beer cases so high it’s like a mountain. Coolers are placed all around the fire pit filled with ice and drinks. We set up tables with food, get one of the students to DJ, even get a machine to blast everyone with foam. It’s already crowded at nine, and it’s a rager by ten. Drunk girls in bikini tops and wasted shirtless guys mingle by the waves, making out, laughing, sharing shots of free tequila, acting like the world’s going to end tomorrow. And based on the way some of them are drinking, it really might or at least the hangover will feel like it’s ending.
This is why people come to Saint Parras. It isn’t the academics and it’s not the surfing, though that stuff’s nice. It’s the beach parties, the bonfires, the alcohol, the moonlit illicit sex on the beach, which isn’t that great by the way, sand gets everywhere and it’s not super pleasant. But students come for the rush of kissing your crush one night and fucking her lips and sucking her clit the next. It’s the steep drop from normalcy into pure hedonism.
For a long time, Calico House controlled the party scene. But lately, I’ve been slacking. This shit is an important part of what we do, a sort of smoke screen for our illicit activities mingled with good advertising for our services.
“Is this all you people do?” Kaye says loudly over the music. We’re standing somewhat away from the main party, down near the ocean. The cold water laps at my toes and I shrug, breathing deep as I look out at the sky. I do love this island, even if there are too many bad memories swirling around in the jungles and too many ghosts haunting the cliffs. Still, it’s beautiful at night, and it’s even more beautiful having Kaye by my side.
“It’s a way of keeping control of the campus.”
“I’m not sure I follow. Throwing parties seems like the opposite.” She gestures back toward the chaos.
But where she sees a bunch of random people hooking up and partying, I see power structures. I see groups coming together and breaking apart. I see fights, feuds, loves, friendships. There’s a strange sense to the way parties form.
“It’s one thing for Cask to start smuggling in alcohol,” I say, bending over to scoop up some sand, “but it’s another for people to go to them for what they need. These parties are a way of showing that we’re in charge, that we’re the best, and if this campus wants something, it needs to go through me to get it.” I let the sand drizzle back down in to the water and wipe my palms on my shorts.
“God, you’re crazy. So this is basically public relations?”
“More like marketing, but yes, basically.”
She shakes her head, frowning. Ever since her run-in with those Cask goons and Lesley’s little stunt with that boat key, she’s kept to herself. I noticed this is her pattern—something bad happens, she pulls into herself to process it, and eventually she comes out of her shell to talk it over. I’ve been busy making a run and planning this to really think about how she’s feeling, but I can tell there’s something bothering her.
And it’s time for the talking bit.
I don’t have to wait long for her to come out with it. She looks at me over the rim of her drink, her eyes sparkling in the firelight, and I feel my pulse rush. Normally, at these fucking parties, I’m busy making sure everyone else is happy and having a good time. But tonight, with Kaye, I feel like I want to be a part of the action for once. I feel like I want to be one of those lucky guys drinking, kissing, fucking, not thinking about anything but pleasure and how good it is to be alive.
Kaye’s pleasure and my own.
“These guys from Roost told me something the other night.” She tilts her head, watching my reaction.
“Roost guys talk a lot. What did they say?”
She begins walking down the beach, away from the party. I follow slowly, keeping my distance, wary for where she’s leading me. To heaven or hell? Knowing her, a little of both.
“They said my sister was obsessed with you. That she used to follow you around. And that you two were—” She chokes on this last bit and clears her throat. “Fucking.”
I love the way she says that word,fucking. So raspy and sultry. It makes my pulse boil through my skin.
I stop walking and force her to turn and face me. I want her to look me in the eye so she understands that I’m not playing around about this.