Lost King by Piper Lennox (moboreader txt) 📗

God, I envied them. I wanted so badly to be them.

That was my first mistake.

The second: bumping right into Vivi and Cate, instead of sticking to my plan of avoiding everyone until I found Paige.

“Oh, Jesus.” Vivi twisted her mouth in a grimacing smile. Something about her reminded me of oil stains in puddles. Pretty to observe, but worth sidestepping whenever possible.

With her sister flanking her, though, I couldn’t just mutter some insincere apology and scoot around. How two girls as thin as they were could so thoroughly block paths was beyond me.

“What are you doing here? Looking for a hookup?” Vivi pulled her favorite impression of me: a dramatic overbite and crossed eyes. “Who should we fix her up with?”

My stomach turned. “I’m just looking for Paige. She invited me. Or...I don’t know, I guess Theo kind of did.”

“Look at that.” With a snap of her gum, Vivi nudged her sister and giggled, “Did you see how she blushed when she said his name?”

“Seriously,” Cate said, lowering her voice and touching my arm, in this strange way like...

...like we’re friends.

“Do you like him?” She winked. “You can tell me.”

My tongue felt too thick. “I don’t even know him.”

Yes, I did. He just didn’t know me. I knew all of them, these perfect little specimens in an ant farm I’d observed for years.

For example: I knew Vivi was insecure about her nose, always begging her parents for plastic surgery to fix some flaw only she could see. I made sure to stare at it, hard, until their whispers and laughter stopped.

Behind them, I spotted Paige through the crowd.

“Excuse me,” I told Vivi’s nose. From the corner of my eye, I saw her cover it as I walked away.

“Aria!” Paige grinned when I approached, my new name sounding even more perfect in her singsong voice. “You made it!” Cherry blossom body spray enveloped me with her hug. Her breath was spiked, something sweet and sharp like fruity vodka. “Here, let’s get you a drink.”

The huge marble island in Theo’s kitchen was covered with bottles. Paige ran her fingertips over the necks and muttered the names to herself like a gemstone appraisal.

“Ah,” she announced, finally fishing one out of the glimmering glass sea, “here it is. This is what I’m drinking. Hand me a cup, will you?”

Despite her slurring, she poured well. Not a drop landed anywhere but the cup. She added grenadine and Sprite, winking at me when she realized she’d mixed up the ratios and made it too strong.

“But that’s okay,” she said as she passed me the drink, “because you got here late, so you have to play catch-up.”

You don’t know the half of it, I thought. It felt like I’d arrived to my entire life late. This night was a fresh start for me; I could feel it buzzing through my veins faster than the alcohol. And yes: I had to play catch-up.

My foot was in the door, but I wasn’t quite here yet. If I wanted to cement myself in their world, I had a lot to do.

I started by drinking every drop of what Paige gave me. I laughed and smiled behind my hand, so no one could see my teeth. When I had to make eye contact, I made sure to do it with my head turned a little off-center, so both my eyes were in the same direction.

When the boys on the deck offered us weed, I took the bowl like I’d watched Callum and his brother do a thousand times. Everyone laughed when I coughed, but the liquor made it easy to laugh along with them. They weren’t making fun. We were having fun.

Everything was hazy and gorgeous. I stuck close to Paige most of the time. We dipped our feet into the lukewarm infinity pool. We lay back on the deck and watched the stars.

The lights in the living room dimmed, replaced with projectors and flashes from phones. Paige took my hand and pulled me into the hot, writhing mass of bodies. We danced until it felt like the music had replaced our blood.

Through it all, I searched for Theo.

His name floated to me endlessly. Everyone was talking about him. No one knew where he was.

“He always does this,” one girl shouted to another, over the bass of a dance remix that made all of us feel like jumping, not dancing. “Just, like, fucking vanishes right when the parties get good.”

“Yeah,” the other girl said, “that’s his thing.”

“Speaking of his thing....”

Their conversation bubbled into hysterical, drunken laughter. I felt my gaze drawn to the ceiling, peppered with swirling lights and shadows.

That’s where he was: overtop it all, enjoying his kingdom from a distance. I’d seen him through enough windows, on enough summer nights, to know.

“Whoa.” Paige panted and laughed as the song ended, leaning into me hard. Her hands locked behind my neck, her face in my chest as she said, “God, I’m wasted.” Her knees gave way; I caught her and put her back on her feet. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Emphatically, I agreed. This seemed like the kind of party where, if you passed out, nobody would notice. She’d get trampled if she stayed down here. She needed a couch or bed as fast as possible.

The broad, looming staircase was filled with people. Most were in pairs, just talking, while a few were making out (or far more), too impatient to find a room. Maybe there weren’t any available.

Still, I kept climbing, hefting Paige along and reassuring her we were on the way to a warm bed and cold water.

I needed some myself, actually. A