Burn Before Reading(36)

He laughed, spinning a pool stick around him like a martial arts bo staff. "So smart, so driven, and yet so awfully transparent. You're a weird little paradox, Bee. Now go on. Get. He's upstairs."

"You talk like an old man," I accused. Fitz made a little bow.

"That's what happens when you grow up reading too many books. They never tell you about the dangers of that in school." He shooed me away. "Hurry up. Get out of here. He's waiting."

"Wolf?" I wrinkled my nose. "Why would he be -"

"Go!" Fitz took my arm and gingerly threw me out of the room, slamming the door behind me. I heaved a sigh. If I ever understood how a Blackthorn’s brain worked, it would be too soon.

I lost my way in the house pretty quickly, the crowd's eyes and the pulsing music giving me a headache. I wrinkled my nose as I watched someone vomit right into one of the very expensive vases lying around. Fantastic. I’m sure someone’s mom slash housekeeper slash whoever it is that does the cleaning for rich people is going to be thrilled with that.

I opened the sliding glass door to the backyard, desperate for some relief. People gathered on lawn chairs out here, in a semi-circle around a fire pit. I recognized one person in the circle, and felt my breath catch in my throat. Eric. What was he doing here? Who let him in - especially after everyone knew what he'd done at the last party?

"Bee," The low voice behind me made me jump. I turned to see Burn standing there, in a flannel shirt and ripped jeans.

"For once!" I thumped my chest to make sure my heart was still working. "Just once, would you please tap my shoulder before you greet me directly in my ear? I'd like to live past the age of seventeen, thanks."

"Heart attacks don't kill teenagers," Burn insisted. I squinted at him.

"Have you ever even seen a horror movie? We die all the time from a lot of things in those. Sometimes heart attacks! But especially from like, having sex. And doing drugs. And chainsaws. The chainsaws come after the sex and drugs, usually, kind of like Hollywood's warning us to be pure and chaste kids, or something? I dunno. It’s weird."

Burn stared at me silently. I'd seen that look on his face enough to know it meant he was utterly lost at my babbling. I waved him off and we stood there, by the bushes, watching the lawn chair party commence with beers and laughter.

Burn must've seen me staring at Eric, because he sighed.

"He came in after it started, and he refuses to go inside the house. Smart."

"Why is that smart?"

"Because if Wolf sees him, that'll be the end of him," Burn said.

"Who invited him?"

"His friends - some guys in the debate club."

"He came here anyway, despite the red-card." I mulled. "Like a big middle finger to Wolf. He's not going to try anything, is he?"

"I'm watching him," Burn said simply. Those three words carried so much hidden threat I almost felt sorry for Eric. Almost. Until I saw him lean over and start whispering in a girl's ear. She recoiled, standing up and moving away, but Eric followed, cornering her between a bush and the barbeque grill. That was it, the last straw - I was sick of him. I was sick of remembering the fact I ever stood up for him. I was sick of standing around and doing nothing while something awful happened. I had a lot of practice at it, with Dad, and I hated that most of all.

"I don't know about you," I rolled up my sleeves. "But I'm done watching."

In retrospect, pen-and-paper, it was stupid. Hell, everything I did that night was stupid. Maybe it was the air - soaked in alcohol and weed and cigarettes. Maybe it was the infectious devil-may-care attitude that everyone seemed to carry. I don't know. But I suddenly didn't give a damn, anymore. I didn't care about the eyes watching me or the rumor surrounding me as I strode through the lawn-chair circle and grabbed Eric's shoulder, whirling him around.

"What the hell are you doing?" I demanded. The girl behind him looked at me gratefully, taking the chance to disappear back into the house. Eric watched her go with something like anger in his eyes, his mousy hair barely disguising his irritation.

"I'm having fun, Bee. You should try it, sometime."

The lawn-chair circle went quiet, 'oohing' at the perceived insult.

"I can't believe you," I snapped. "You let me stand up for you when they gave you that red card! And when I asked you why they did it, you straight-up lied to me! You knew exactly why they gave it to you. And now you have the guts to show up to another party?"

"He didn't do anything wrong," One of the lawn-chair observers called. "Lay off."

Eric smirked at me. "You heard him; back off, Bee. If you keep hounding me like this, I might start to think you like me. Maybe I'll go get you a drink."

His word were heavy with implication - he'd drug me like he tried to drug some other girl. I suppressed a shudder.

"Fuck you, creep," I spat. Eric's face turned dark, and he closed the space between us. He wasn't tall, but he was tall enough, and I was suddenly razor-sharply aware of how much thicker his biceps were than mine. I could smell the beer on his breath.

"What did you just call me?"

"A creep," Burn's deep voice said behind me. I felt the heat of his chest on my back, and it somehow comforted me. Burn's shadow fell over Eric and I, easily engulfing us. "She called you a creep."