Jaded (Jaded #1)(45)

Chantal sniffed and stood. Another halter-top readjustment was followed with a shift of her miniskirt.

“Why do you wear clothes like that if you have to constantly do that?” Mena asked, coolly.

Chantal gave her a blinding smile and replied sweetly, “Because it drives the guys crazy.”

When she left, I leaned over and whispered, “And it earns you a reputation as a whore.”

Mena gave me a wan smile. “Sorry. I just saw my social career crumble into dust.”

“I’m sorry.” I meant it.

“I know. I don’t think Bryce was even thinking. He was just concerned about you.”

I coughed.

Mena continued, scornfully, “And what is her name? What is her problem, anyway?”

“Collette Chantal. She’s a plastic booby Barbie.”

“She’s a bit plump to be a Barbie.”

“Yeah, but…the guys seem to like the extra meat.”

“I should just leave,” Mena sighed in resignation. “The rest of the night is going to be awful. Everyone’s going to turn on me pretty soon. They’re going to throw peanuts like I’m a monkey in the zoo or something.” Mena moaned.

I patted her knee. “I’m not going anywhere. They wouldn’t dare throw peanuts at me.”

“Right. It’ll just happen when you’re not by my side. Besides, you’re going to disappear with Bryce tonight anyway.”

I shifted again, uncomfortable.

“Let’s get something else to drink,” I announced and dragged her behind. Inside the kitchen, where the keg had been placed, Bryce and the guys all stood around it.

Corrigan spotted us and stumbled over. He threw an arm around both of our shoulders and announced, “So…I heard there was talk about a threesome.” He grinned stupidly.

“How about it, ladies?”

I smiled as I slid a hand downwards.

Corrigan held his breath, his eyes widened.

And I pulled his zipper up, purposely catching on something.

Corrigan howled in pain.

I laughed, “That’s what you get for walking around with your pants open, Corrigan.”

“You are such a…,” he fumed.

I waited with an eyebrow raised.

“I hate you,” he growled and limped away to grab an icepack.

I laughed in delight.

Mena had been quiet the entire time, but she murmured now, “I don’t think I could be friends with you guys. You guys have your own rules or something. You’re vicious to each other.”

I caught an icepack from Bryce and chucked it at Corrigan’s back. He turned and glared before he bent to place it over his groin.

“It’s called respect, Mena,” I remarked. “You have to earn it before you can demand it.”

Mena stayed as I pushed through the crowd.

I hadn’t gone far before I spotted Mandy Justice flirting with two guys that I remembered from the cafeteria. One of the guys had been talking to Leisha.

“Mandy,” I called out and Mandy’s eyes widened in alarm. “Hi.”

“Hey, Sheldon,” she replied, guarded.

“Who are your friends?” I asked, flirtatiously.

“Uh…” She shifted and said shortly, “This is Braven and Carlos.”

“Hi!” I stuck a hand out.

Even though I didn’t pay attention to most gossip, I knew my social hierarchy. At first, I thought Carlos was in Leisha’s group, but when I saw him next to Braven—that changed things. That put him in a much higher position. Braven was a Bryce or Corrigan for his grade. That meant that Carlos would be there too and it wasn’t a shock to see some of the more-popular senior girls flirting with them.

Braven looked to be the leader because he spoke up, “Hi.”

Carlos nodded and watched.

“I know your friend Leisha.” I ignored Braven and remarked to Carlos.

“Oh yeah?” Interest sparked in him and he murmured, “She’s great, isn’t she?”

“I like her,” I said meaningfully to Mandy, who moved her hand from Carlos’ arm. “She’s funny. She’s a little nerdy, but it works for her.”

“I had hoped she’d come tonight.” Carlos leaned closer. “But I don’t see her anywhere.”

“Maybe you should call her. She might come then.”

“I don’t know.”

“I do. Call her.”

Braven spoke up, “I thought you were hoping that Cassie chick was here?”

Carlos ducked his head. “So?”

“Cassandra Bens is good for one thing. If you’re looking for a girl with class, I’d lay odds on Leisha any day,” I spoke up.

Braven snorted in disbelief just as he was pushed out of the way.

I found myself staring into Chad Yerling’s malicious eyes. There was nothing innocent in that gaze as he skimmed me up and down.

“What are you doing, Yerling?” I asked, stiffly.

He stepped closer to me and whispered, “I came to collect.”

“Collect what? Another beating?”

“Your boys can come after me all they want, but they won’t be able to beat it out of me what I’m going to do to you.”