Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
I’m pushing through the sea of people, my eyes on the floor to make sure I don’t step on anything nasty, when I hit a brick wall.
“Shit.” My hands fly up to a hard chest. I’m laughing as my eyes travel up his leather vest and land on his face—my mouth slams closed.
Niko. My blood turns cold, but butterflies erupt inside my belly. I don’t really know if butterflies are the right animal. They feel more like demonic entities. I stop breathing when my eyes collide with his. He disregards me as though we weren’t best friends for half of our life. As if he didn’t protect me when I needed to be protected, or yell at me when I needed to be yelled at. Everything that we went through as children, and I had never once seen him look at me the way he was right now.
I open my mouth and his cold, gray eyes slide down to my mouth, his dark brows furrowing. Even this close, he looks the same, only older. Stronger. My heart fractures in my chest when I realize the eyes looking back at me are nothing like the ones I remember.
He pushes past me and continues through the sea of people. I spin around to follow him, half pissed that he didn’t say anything to me. It’s one thing to disappear without saying goodbye, but another to come back and not even say hi? How’s it going? Sorry I fucking left you? Maybe I’m being a brat. I’ll blame it on the alcohol.
“Bastard,” I whisper to myself, making my way to the bar.
Carter nods his head up at me. “You see Niko?”
“Hmmm?” I brush him off as if I don’t know who he’s talking about. Grabbing my cranberry and vodka, I swirl the straw around in my mouth. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
Carter’s eyes turn to slits as he follows what my mouth does. “You’re a bad girl, Meraki. You’re killing me. Give me one night…”
Carter is cute, in a way that most high school boys are. He has floppy blond hair, kind blue eyes, and a slightly crooked nose from getting into too many fights at school, but he’s Carter. I think I put him into the friend zone before I knew such an area existed.
“Tsk.” I tap the tip of my nose. “Now you know I don’t go for the nice boys.”
“That’s your problem!” he calls out as I make my way back to my friends.
We dance through four more songs and I massage my temples when the muscles in my legs throb. I hitch my thumb over my shoulder.
“Ready to leave?”
Cece is curled over her knees, her hair falling over her shoulders, and Mira is shaking her ass into my crotch. Drunk Mira is not Sober Mira. In fact, Sober Mira doesn’t even like Drunk Mira. She calls it Her Mira.
“No!” Mira yells, waving her hands in the air. Moms are wild.
Cece nods, looking up at me beneath her lashes. “Yesh.”
Oh god, she’s slurring. I look down at my watch before hooking my arm into hers, helping her to her feet. She stumbles into me slightly, knocking my drinks to the floor. I wince, mentally telling myself to come back tomorrow to help clean, at least for Young Buck, the club cleaner.
Mira finally grabs Cece on the other side as we push our way through the sea of people. Sweaty bodies stick to mine, and for the hundredth time ever, I swear I’m done with Sissy’s.
“Wait!” Cece halts, her shoulders straightening upright. Her hand covers her mouth and her eyes flash with panic.
“Oh no!” I quickly spin her around and Mira shoves people out of the way in front of me as I rush Cece into the girls’ bathroom. As soon as we’re through the doors, I kick open a stall and pull her hair back as she spews bright-red liquid into the toilet.
“Ah,” she groans, swiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m so gross.”
“No, you’re not,” I say, massaging her head.
I glance up and giggle at all of the graffiti on the walls. There’s not one clean space in these toilets, from people throughout the years scribbling notes and even taping Polaroid photos to the walls. No one touches them, it’s become kind of sacred in these toilets.
I pause when I notice one that I recognize. It’s a Polaroid photo with the words Ruckus and her boyfriends scribbled on the bottom. I remember this night like it was yesterday. The sting in my heart sharpens as my breathing begins to harden.
“We’re going to get caught,” Luca worried, scurrying into the bathroom while brushing his blond hair out of his face.
I looked over my shoulder and flashed him a grin while hooking the cherry out of my drink and sucking it into my mouth.