Crimson Death (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter #25)(11)

Time to make an excuse to get out of here, now.

I think the girls might’ve been talking to me, but it was hard to say. The crowd was blurring, and everyone was moving in slow motion. A few people bumped into me as we moved through the living room, or maybe I bumped into them. Who knows if they apologized? Who even knows if I did?

Around the time we got to the refreshments table, I’d convinced myself this was a dream after all, and dug my fingernails hard into my palm to prove it. Unfortunately, the only thing it proved was that I was: a) awake, and b) still at the damn party. Abort mission. Now. Screw the repercussions.

“Come on, I’m sure it’s not that bad for you,” Juliette was saying to Niamh, holding out a ladle. “It’s just some punch.”

“I’m trying to cut down on carbs. Hence, vodka shots.”

“Vodka has carbs. It’s super carbed-up.”

Niamh scoffed. “It’s definitely not.”

“It’s got potatoes in it. What are potatoes made of? Carbs, Niamh.”

I cleared my throat, hovering like an awkward stalker behind them.

“Vodka doesn’t have potatoes in it,” Niamh shot back, “it—”

“Hey, I’ll be back, okay?” I cut her off.

The only acknowledgment I got was a vague nod from both of them. Guess that was my pass. I broke off and wandered through the living room, pushing past body after body after unfamiliar body.

I had the desperate urge to go outside and call Ryan, or Hayley, or anyone, really. Just to hear a familiar voice. To drown out the fact that I’d screwed up my first day at school, and I’d outed Will, and that if he hadn’t wanted to shut me out after all, he definitely did now. And it was all my fault.

Out in the front yard, I sucked in a lungful of air and narrowly avoided passing out. That might sound melodramatic, but I hadn’t realized how stifling the smoke and body heat and beer fumes were until they contrasted with clean, crisp air. I trotted down the steps and continued around the house until I found a spot where I could slot myself between the shrubs and flower beds to lean against the cool brick wall. Suddenly, I didn’t even want to call Ryan. I had to get out of here. I sent Mom a quick S.O.S. text, and settled back against the wall to wait.

A familiar voice to my right made me start. Will. Of course it was. I couldn’t have five minutes’ reprieve from this absolute bad joke of a day, huh? He must be near the front door, from the sound of his voice. I couldn’t let him see me here alone. No way. If we were playing the “I don’t care about you” game, the best possible way for me to lose was to be caught friendless and feeling sorry for myself. I’d rather dive into the writhing sea of hormones back inside, thanks all the same.

His voice was getting closer. That left me with two options. One, find a way to climb inside the rosebush and pretend to be a rose. I’d been a bush in a school play once, and, not to brag, but I’d been told I was a natural at it, so option one was solid. Two, flee to the backyard.

I fled. I fled like a bigot dodging the concept of equality.

Luckily, I acted quickly enough to escape undetected. I dove into the crowd in the backyard until I couldn’t see anything but the bodies sandwiching me. I clutched onto my phone as if it was a life raft, pinballing between random groups while I killed time until Mom arrived. Then suddenly I spotted someone I knew making out with some willowy redheaded girl. Not Will, thankfully. Someone with long, chestnut brown curls, and a leather jacket, and a lavender dress.

Lara.

I froze, confused as all hell. Then I noticed what I hadn’t caught to begin with. Lara’s same-sex make-out session was taking place in the middle of a ring of students. Mostly guys, if it needed to be spelled out. They were cheering, and fist-pumping, and generally being gross about it. So, what, Lara was doing this for show? Maybe. Except she looked like she was into it. Like, super into it. Not that I was any expert on kissing girls, but that was my layman’s opinion. Her hand was on the girl’s shoulder, the other wrapped up in her hair, and she hadn’t peeked once. Also, I’d been staring for a solid fifteen seconds now and she still hadn’t come up for air.

When they finally tore apart, the redhead burst out laughing, throwing her head back. Lara laughed, too, but it was a smaller one, and she bent forward to hide her face. She lifted her chin, watched the other girl for a moment with a pleased smile, then tossed her hair and turned to her audience, as if to say I kissed a girl, and you liked it.

Before she saw me, I blended back in with the crowd. It’s fairly easy to disappear when barely anyone knows you, it turns out. I walked aimlessly for a bit, dodging spilled drinks and staggering groups, until I found myself in the front yard again. Will was nowhere in sight. Neither was anyone else, for that matter. With a heavy sigh I sat on the curb with my feet in the gutter and settled in for the wait for Mom’s rescue chariot.

Way to utterly fail, Ollie.

Slow clap. Encore. Et cetera.





4


Tuesday, 9:23 PM

Ollie? Where’d you go?

Tuesday, 9:37 PM

Are you still here?

Tuesday, 9:51 PM

Are you mad at us?

Tuesday, 9:56 PM

Please reply. I’m sorry. Pick up?

Tuesday, 10:24 PM

Is this Juliette? I don’t have

your number saved. I’m not