Sweet Evil (The Sweet Trilogy #1)(13)

The door opened behind me, and a muddle of music and voices spilled out before it closed again.

“There you are.”

I turned to the voice.

“Hey, Scott,” I said. And hello, butterflies.

Ever since he’d invited me to the party he’d been on my mind. He came up and stood next to me with a red cup. It smelled doughy and sour.

“Beer,” he said. “Want a sip?”

“No, thanks.” I felt shy. He tipped his head back and drained it in several gulps, then turned to the side and burped. Nice.

“Excuse me,” he said, setting down his cup on the ledge. “So. What are you doin’ out here by yourself?”

“Just taking it all in. It’s beautiful.”

“Yep,” he said. “Your hair looks pretty.”

“Thank you.” I had a strip on top pulled back with bobby pins, and the rest hung down my back.

“Remember Mr. Bunker’s astrology lessons last year in Earth Science?” I asked, looking up at the sparkling sky, fascinated by the magnitude of creation.

“Uhh, no.” Scott guffawed.

“Okay, look right there.” I pointed. “It’s the Big Dipper. That square box part right there is the ladle, and then those stars are the handle. See it?” Scott sidled closer as I traced the shape with an outstretched finger.

“Where? Oh, hey! I see it! Cool.”

We got quiet and I realized this was a very romantic setting, if only I weren’t so fidgety and unable to look in his direction.

“We should go inside,” he said. “Have you seen the basement?” I shook my head. “It’s awesome. I’ll get you a drink and then we can check it out.”

“Scott...” I didn’t want to have to say it. Again. It would almost be easier to just have a drink so people would leave me alone about it.

“How about something nonalcoholic,” he offered. “Soda? Juice?”

I was getting thirsty. “Sure, thanks. Anything is fine.”

He took me by the hand as he led me inside. It felt strange, but nice. There were even more people now, and many of their colors were faded or gone from alcohol consumption. The clouds were still there with each person, not affected as the auras were. Even though the white shadowy things were see-through, it was still a lot to take in with so many people crammed together.

The air was heavy and hot, despite the high ceilings. As we made our way through, still holding hands, I recognized athletes from school as they called out, “What up, Scott?” and “Scottie!” They did knuckle bumps in passing, eyed me, then nodded knowingly to Scott, giving him a thumbs-up or a high-five. I pretended not to notice.

I was caught between feeling embarrassed, nervous, and, God forbid, excited as we came to the stairway for the basement. I wondered if this party was a “date” for us. Maybe I would get my first kiss. My legs trembled and I clasped his hand tighter.

One hour. I would give this party one hour, then I’d have to honor Patti. Okay, maybe fifteen minutes had passed since I made that deal, but I wouldn’t count those. Sixty minutes starting now.

“Go ahead on down,” Scott shouted close to my ear. “You can find us a seat and I’ll be right down with our drinks.”

My knees wobbled the whole way down the stairs. I stopped at the bottom in the entryway. The huge open-spaced recreation room was a guy’s dream. A giant flat screen television was mounted on the wall, surrounded by a plush, oversize L-shaped couch. There was a pool table, a foosball table, standing arcade games, and a side area with a huge card table and bar. The walls were covered in college sports memorabilia.

As I surveyed the people in the room, two things were quickly apparent. First, the half of the room with couches was currently being used as makeout central. And second, the other half of the room was filled with older boys who I didn’t recognize smoking what I instinctively knew to be marijuana, though it was my first time ever smelling the tangy-sweet smoke. The scent gripped me with a longing that nearly brought me to my knees. Panicked, I took the stairs back up two steps at a time.

At the top, I concentrated on calming my breathing as I made my way through the crowd toward the kitchen. Scott stood at the island talking to one of his friends, Kristin Miller. Something about their whispered conversation made me stop and stretch out my hearing toward them.

“She doesn’t know?” Kristin asked.

“Not yet, so just keep your mouth shut,” Scott said. Kristin laughed. She was a notorious gossip.

“She is going to be so mad at you.”

“Nah,” he said. “She’ll probably thank me for it.”

I stood where I was, pulling my hearing back in and wondering what they were talking about. Maybe his ex-girlfriend was here and she’d be mad to know he was talking to me? But why would he say she would thank him for it?

I caught a glimpse of Jay’s fuzzy head as he bounded toward me. I was glad to see him. He gave me a bear hug, lifting me off my feet a second before setting me back down.

“You’ll never believe this.” He was nearly out of breath. “I just talked to this guy who was at the Lascivious show tonight, and he said the band is coming!”

Say what?! My heart gave a great bang in my chest. I’d almost forgotten about the drummer with the strange starburst. Or it could be that I’d blocked the encounter from my memory.