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.

says, clinking his

up at the TV that’s tracking our

“Damn, you're on fire.

at bowling.” “Neither did I,” I admit,

a blast.” “A few more of those”—he nods toward my glass—“and I just

know that.” “Damn it!” Sadie shouts at her second attempt, which turns out to be a gutter ball,

only ever wanted to protect you, right?” he says when I

don’t want anyone

makes me fucking crazy.” “Thank you,” I whisper, feeling his words, the impact of each one nestling into my

you've had my back.”

but that's when I've allowed Sadie

the way it’s felt, I’

“Good.” His grin grows.

wouldn't do for you.” “What am I doing wrong?” Sadie whines, a quick glance telling

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

I turn back to Blake, my thoughts

do for me is keep Aisha tamed and make all this drama—the spray painting and the name calling and the WHGOSSIP posts—go away.” When I realize how silly I sound,

but it’s getting to be a lot.” “You

Who am I hurting so badly that they want to

“I wish I knew.

and replace it

with a full glass of punch and

the tray

news is, you're

attempts a fourth try and fails again, cursing at the lane like it can hear her—"and

start of a new year and

it off with a fucking dud of a night.” He's

New Year's I'll

go to college, everything is going to

return home for the holidays, who knows

We could lose touch.

be totally different

for having this party,” I

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