Filthy Foreign Exchange(40)

Yeah, I suck at this social stuff.

“Are you wearing makeup?” she asks as she climbs in the truck.

“Are you wearing a bra?” I retort.

“No,” she scoffs, looking at me like I’m crazy. “You can’t wear a bra with this dress, Echo.”

“I think you may be using the word ‘dress’ wrong,” I grumble, wondering what my brother would think of her outfit. “So where am I going?”

She rattles off the address and I start down the street, beginning to rethink this whole night.

“Please promise you won’t leave me standing alone in a corner like a social leper tonight, okay?” I plea, my anxiety mounting.

“Of course I won’t, silly. Plus, Clay will be there. And Crai-aig,” she sing-songs. “You’ll have plenty of people to talk to, don’t worry.”

Fantastic. Hearing that Clay and Craig will be there actually has my stomach twisting even harder.

“This is it.” She points. “Turn right. It’s the house with all the cars out front.”

“Which house? The whole street’s lined with cars. My God, the whole town must be here.” I creep down the street, unsure what the hell I was thinking when I agreed to this. “Whose party is this, anyway?”

“I don’t know. I heard about it from Sadie. There’s a spot—park there!”

Sadie? Did I hear her correctly? There’s only one girl I know of by that name, because Savannah hangs out with her on campus. That means…I’m at a college party?

I park and switch off the ignition with numb, tortured movements. If my brother or parents find out about this...

I inhale deeply, futilely searching my depths for optimism. Tonight better be worth it.

It’s a good five-minute walk from our parking spot to the actual party. The front door’s wide open when we get there, and Savannah saunters right in like she owns the place, with me glued to her back.

“Hey! Aren’t you Sebastian’s little sister?” a huge guy with blond hair and beer breath asks me immediately.

“No, sorry. You must have me confused with someone else,” I mumble, ducking my head and pressing myself tighter against Savannah’s back.

She reaches behind her and finds my hand to drag me through the jam-packed house. Music is blaring, mixing terribly with the stench of sweat, liquor, and catastrophe. There’s barely room to walk without playing bumper-bodies with a bunch of strangers.

Once we make it through the living room and into a sunken den, the crowd thins out. Some of the tension eases from my body and I release Savannah’s hand, standing up straight to take a look around.

“Isn’t this great?” she yells, using the word ‘great’ wrong too. But I smile weakly, and nod. “Oh, I see Clay! Come on!”

And, once again, I’m being dragged by the hand through what has to be a preview of hell.

Clay whistles at Savannah. “Hey, look at you! Want me to get you a beer?”

“Um...” she dillydallies, turning to give me a questioning look—which seems to be the only reason Clay finally notices that I, too, am standing there.

“Echo?” His eyes double in size, and his jaw drops. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, Clay.” I cross my arms and narrow my eyes. “And I’ll pass on a beer, in case you were about to offer.”

He wasn’t nearly as shocked to see Savannah as he was me—even though, last time I checked, she goes to the same high school I do. He also thought nothing of offering her booze.

What else do I not know about my friends?

“Ah, baby girl, don’t be mad at me.” His arms snare my waist before I see it coming and can stop him, pulling me in for a hug. My face is smooshed into his shirt, which smells like an ashtray. “I can’t believe you’re here, is all. But I’m happy as hell you are.”

“Uh-huh,” I say, pushing off him and turning back to Savannah—who’s already found another guy to get her a drink. A red cup is in her hand, a giggle on her lips.

I stomp over, about to chew her ass out for drinking, when her “new friend” sizes me up with a creepy leer. “Well hello there, gorgeous. Can I get you a drink too?”

“No.”

That threatening growl didn’t come from my mouth, but I know exactly from whose it did. I spin slowly, my nose nearly brushing his chest since he’s standing so close to me.

It’s Kingston—scary Kingston, tugging me flush against his side and glaring at the guy who just offered me a drink.

“Piss off, Cody,” he snarls. “This one is not drinking, and is also completely off limits.”

“Jesus, bro, relax.” The Cody guy backs up. “I didn’t know. Damn, should’ve just pissed on her leg.”

Just then, Clay barges over. “I had that shit covered,” he snaps at Kingston.

“Looked like it,” Kingston sneers back before grabbing both my arms, maneuvering me to fully face him. “What in the bloody hell are you doing here, Echo?” He stares down at me, his face red and eyes blazing.

“I came with Savannah,” I reply dumbly, still processing his reaction.

“And where might she be, then?”

“Right—” I glance over my shoulder, expecting to find her in the same spot she’d just been in, not a foot away, but coming up empty. “Well, she was right here.”