I hold his gaze. “Not at all.”
His smile fades, and his expression spurs an unfamiliar response in my body. The front door of the school screeches open, and he springs from my car. A custodian steps outside carrying a large garbage bag and plods down the sidewalk, disappearing around the corner.
Hmm . . . Mr. Smooth actually seems a little jumpy for once. I’ve never seen him less than confident, and it catches me off guard.
“Drive safely, okay?” he says, cutting our conversation short. “And keep your chin up. Go have fun tonight!”
“I think I will.”
I give him a soft smile, and his eyes linger on my lips before he breaks his gaze and heads back to the faculty lot. I watch him walk away, savoring the moment before getting into my car.
That was . . . interesting.
As I drive off campus, I flick on the radio. A remake of Joan Jett’s “Bad Reputation” plays through the speakers, and I laugh to myself as I crank up the volume. I roll down my window, letting the warm breeze whip around my hair as I belt out the lyrics.
I’m suddenly in the mood for a party.
CHAPTER SIX
I’M IN RARE FORM AS I get ready for Derek’s party. The short time I spent with Mr. Slate has me completely elated. Adrenaline rushes through me, and I try to keep my hands steady enough to curl my hair. Okay, so maybe I’m guilty of a little crush. And maybe my excitement has something to do with the way he looked at me as he leaned against my car tonight. But it was innocent enough, right? It’s not like anything will ever happen—he’s my teacher, after all. It’s just a fun little distraction for me—a harmless indulgence in my mediocre life. It’s no reason to ruin my relationship with Tommy—if anything, it makes me want to make out with him all night and let loose. But honestly, Mr. Slate isn’t the only reason I want to go out tonight—I really dropped the ball with Emily and Tommy this week, and I want to make it up to them.
I take my time perfecting my makeup—creating a smoky eye and nude, kissable lip. When I’m satisfied with my dramatic look, I slip on my black strapless dress that clings to my body in all the right places. It’s Tommy’s favorite, and I hope when he sees me tonight, he won’t have enough blood left in his brain to question my recent behavior. We’ve never really fought before, and I hate that he didn’t meet me after school today. It’s obvious he’s pretty upset with me, but he can never resist me in this dress, and I hope it helps him forget the whole thing.
I step into my five-inch black strappy heels and spray my favorite perfume on my wrists and neck. As I turn around in front of my full-length mirror, I admire every angle of my body and smile—I feel good tonight. Sexy. And ready for some fun.
Knowing this is my father’s least favorite dress, I creep down the hallway—but there’s no hiding the click of my heels on the hardwood stairs. He scans my attire from the family room couch and gruffly reminds me of my curfew—even though it hasn’t changed in the last two years. I smile and reassure him I’ll be home on time, then slip out the door.
THE CIRCULAR STONE driveway in front of Derek’s house is jam-packed, so I park down the street behind a line of cars. To say his parents are well off would be an understatement. Their house resembles a mini castle—although there’s nothing mini about it. I think I remember Derek saying it was over six thousand square feet one time. The exterior is a deep, rich brown, with a stone faced turret towering over the double front doors. Despite being enormous, it has a storybook charm to it, complete with a courtyard circling a small fountain filled with exotic fish. And if that’s not enough, his parents are the type to stay out late on the weekends and sometimes travel for weeks at a time, making their house party central more often than not for our classmates.
Trying not to topple over in my heels, I step over the gravel. As soon as I make it to the pavement, I confidently stride up the walkway that’s perfectly lined with solar lights, resembling tiny lanterns. When I push open the massive wooden door, blaring music penetrates the quiet neighborhood, and I slip through the buzzing crowd in search of my friends.
“Damn, Kennedy,” says a familiar voice.
I turn around. “Jace? What are you doing here?”
“Just making sure you knuckleheads don’t get the cops called.” He surveys my dress. “You turned it out tonight.”
My cheeks flush. You wouldn’t necessarily know Derek and Jace were brothers if it weren’t for the eyes. Jace is taller, with darker hair and a bigger build, but their eyes are identical. That, and the fact they’re both gorgeous.
“So what’s the occasion?” he says.
“No occasion.” Just kissing my boyfriend’s ass because I’m feeling guilty, that’s all.
“Tommy’s in the kitchen,” he says before turning away.
I head to the kitchen and there he is . . . in the middle of a keg stand. As I stand behind the crowd, waiting for him to finish, my mind wanders to Mr. Slate.
Mr. Slate, who goes golfing on Sundays and is completing his master’s degree. Mr. Slate, who grades papers and disciplines students my age. Mr. Slate, who dresses professionally, coaches the baseball team, and has adult responsibilities. I could be wrong, but I doubt he’s participating in a keg stand right now. In fact, he’s probably sipping wine with The Blonde while sitting fireside as they speak passionately about politics.
The cheering crowd drags me from my thoughts as Tommy finishes his record-breaking keg stand. My classmates seem impressed with his “accomplishment” as they all high-five each other.
Jeff’s eyes cut to me, and he takes in my appearance. He smirks, giving Tommy a nod. “Your girl’s here.”
Tommy faces me and I smile, holding my breath. I expect a joyous grin at my arrival, but instead, I’m greeted with an unwelcomed stare.
My body stiffens.
“What are you doing here?” he says, his nostrils flaring.
The girls standing adjacent to me snicker, and my temper flickers—I hate being humiliated, so I fire back.
“You begged me to come, remember?”
He sways a bit as his eyes darken. “I thought you chose a study session over me. Why the change of heart?”
Here’s my opportunity to soften him—to tell him how sorry I am. This is my chance to fix the whole mess—to bring his attention to my dress and flirt with him. To kiss and hug him in front of everyone. I know how to defuse him—he loves flattery and public displays of affection. He’s so easy. But as the girls sneer, and his friends begin to form an alliance behind him, I decide against all of these, and instead, fold my arms across my chest.
“It was cancelled.”
The boys say “Oooh” in unison, and Tommy’s attitude transcends into anger.
He hates humiliation as much as I do.
His jaw clenches, and his voice deepens. “It was cancelled, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Otherwise you wouldn’t have come?” He slurs his words a little, and I know I should back down.
But I don’t. “Probably not.”
He steps closer to me as the crowd watches intently.
“You’re such a bitch,” he spits out.
A few gasps echo through the crowd, and I swallow over the growing tightness in my throat. He would never call me a bitch if he was sober—I know I’m not talking to the real Tommy and should give him a pass, but we have an audience and my pride takes over.
I turn to Jeff. “How much has he had to drink?”
Tommy narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t do that shit.” He leans his body against the counter for support.
“You just called me a bitch!”
“Because you’re acting like a bitch! You’ve been a bitch all week, Kaley, and you won’t tell me what’s going on with you. It’s bullshit!”
My hands ball into fists at my sides. “Shut up!” I shout. The crowd has at least doubled in size and I hesitate, then lower my voice. “You know it’s been a tough week.”
“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo,” he taunts. “You can’t go to USC. Big fucking deal. You didn’t even know you wanted to go until Emily talked you into it.”
His words cut through me, but instead of cowering, I square my shoulders. “Well, it’s a good thing I can’t go then, isn’t it? I mean, if you’re this jealous over a study session, how would you act once I moved to LA?”
“Please,” he says, his rancorous eyes burning through me. “You know you’d never leave me.”
My throat burns as his words strike me, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let myself cry in front of this crowd.
I glare back at him. “You know what, asshole? Watch me.”
Spinning on my heel, I storm back through the crowd as Tommy yells something that’s drowned out by the music. I hesitate at the front door and glance behind me, scanning the crowd for Emily. I see Jace through the sliding glass door talking to a crowd of people near the outdoor fireplace, but Derek is nowhere to be found. Tommy is still in the kitchen, but no longer looking my way. Avery hops up on the counter between Jeff and Tommy and tosses her hair back, flashing her fake grin in my direction. She hangs on Jeff and giggles at whatever Tommy is saying.