You’re Mine by Penny Brooks

 Harper

 I didn’t want to go to Blake’s party, and I tried to come up with every excuse in my head to back out.

I even ran a few of them past Sadie once I found out Easton was dead set on going.

But each excuse I gave to my best friend, she returned with the same reply—that I was going no matter what, and her sassy self didn't want to hear any more abott it.

Anxiety ate at me all day.

I could feel it in my hands while I was getting ready, my eye liner a wobbly line, far too thick and beyond repairable.

But after that joint we smoked in the car and the electric blue punch that I've been sipping from Blake’s kitchen—that probably has thirty different kinds of alcohol in it, oops, whatever—I hate to admit that I’m actually having fun.

But I really am.

Blake’s game room, which is more like an arcade, is where we've spent most of the night.

The boys have been battling out an epic game of beer pong, Sadie and I jumping in to partner with them when we're not lost in our own war of Ms.

Pac—Man or bowling— because, of course Blake has a bowling alley in his basement.

And whenever we run low on drinks, Blake sends one of his servers to refill our glasses.

I've never been to a high school party that has waiters.

Not even Easton hires them for his ragers.

But I’m not surprised that Blake has gone all out, he doesn’t do anything half—assed.

Even as he’s standing next to Easton, partnering with him on this round of pong, he looks perfect.

His hair is more styled than mine.

His outfit is so put together, I swear he uses a Stylist.

He catches me looking at him and smiles and when he finishes the round with Easton, he comes over to the bowling area where Sadie and I are hanging out.

clinking his glass

looks up at the TV that’s tracking our

“Damn, you're on fire.

at bowling.” “Neither did I,” I admit, laughing, watching Sadie’s ball head straight into

my glass—“and I just might be

all we've ever been, and I know that.” “Damn it!” Sadie shouts at her second attempt, which turns

hate this game.” “You do know I've only ever wanted to protect

anyone hurting

that makes me fucking crazy.” “Thank you,” I whisper,

known you've had my

when I've allowed Sadie and Easton

the way it’s felt, I’

“Good.” His grin grows.

“What am I doing wrong?” Sadie whines, a quick glance telling me she went

Sadie who’s throwing her hands up in the air, like she’s trying to actually

back to Blake, my thoughts become

WHGOSSIP posts—go away.” When I realize how silly I sound, that Blake doesn’t have control over any of that, and I’m just

your control, but it’s getting to be a

happening? Who am I hurting

“I wish I knew.

take it all away and replace it with happiness.” “Me too,”

of the servers returns with a full glass of punch and a drink

off the tray and hands

news is,

try and fails again, cursing at

the start of a new

off with a

is probably the last New Year's I'll ever celebrate with all these

college,

the holidays, who knows if we'll all

We could lose touch.

could be totally

this