But I want to have fun. “Will there be boys there?” I ask, embarrassment coloring my neck.
She grins, ear to ear, stashing her lipstick away. “Hell yes, girl.”
I don’t want to lie, but if I ask and he says no, then it’s done. But if I tell him we’re doing something slightly less nefarious, he’ll be more likely to say yes. I’m not going to do anything bad.
It’s a tough choice, but when I look up at Brooke, eyes wide and brimming with excitement, I make a choice.
One little white lie won’t hurt.
After dinner, Brooke invited me to see her house. Can I go check out her place?
“What’s your address?” I ask, wanting to supply every piece of information I can.
“5584 Starfish Blvd,” she replies, “why?”
“Because,” I say, typing the address out in the text message. “I’m telling my dad that I’m going to your place after dinner, and he will want the address.”
She smirks. “Devious little thing, I love it!”
Dad and Maribel write back right away.
Dad
I will pick you up at nine o’clock.
Maribel
We will pick you up when you text us. Have fun, Vivienne.
I tuck my phone away, guilt burning in my veins. I’ve never lied to dad, but as we round the corner and come upon Arcane’s and Brooke waves a table full of handsome boys, I forget pretty quickly.
Chapter Four
Vivienne
At dinner, Brooke introduces me to her friends; Maxwell, a senior at Creole public and the best friend of her ex-boyfriend. He’s handsome, tall and lanky, with curly dark hair and stunning hazelnut eyes. While yes, he is hunky, he’s also boisterous and loud, and not my type.
Next to him is Alexander, also a senior at Creole public. He’s the first boy I’ve met with long hair, which is tied up in a bun on the top of his head, a few messy strands hanging down. Fair skin, blonde hair, blue eyes–Alexander looks like he could be my brother in some ways, and therefore, there is zero attraction.
On the other side of me sits Fabian, short but muscular–probably the most muscular boy I’ve ever met. He has a long term girlfriend, which he announces the minute we meet.
On his side is a handsome boy named Reed, one whoseeyes are a kaleidoscope of blues, framed in round tortoise shell glasses, whose dark hair sits in a messy but also somewhat neat coif. He’s slightly sullen, and very quiet, and his broad shoulders speak to the body of a man, but, according to Brooke, he’s older, in his first year of college. Reed attended Dulce Academy, the school which I have been enrolled in, but graduated last year.
Reed makes my stomach flutter, and through dinner, I catch him eyeing me more than a few times. And unlike the other three guys at the table, Reed doesn’t look at the top of my corset dress where my breasts bubble up in abundance, or at my gold cross getting pinched in my ample cleavage.
I catch him looking at my face, my eyes, studying the gold waves of hair that float over my shoulders. And every time I catch him, he doesn’t hurry to look away. His ocean eyes hold mine, and I’m the one break first.
Brooke splits the bill a few ways and we all chip in, with Maxwell suggesting we stop by the corner market on the way down to the beach. “We’ll get some beers and maybe even a bottle.” He elbows Alexander as we filter out of Arcane's, the two of them ahead of Brooke and me, with Fabian and Reed behind us.
Alexander nods. “Yes, definitely a bottle.”
I tip my head toward Brooke, trying to keep my voice low. “I don’t really drink.”
Brooke links her arm through mine. “You don’t have to. But that’s kind of what the bonfire is about. Having some drinks and dreaming what the year will be like, wondering where it will take us. The booze just adds a fuzzy layer of fun.”
I’ve had a flute of champagne once, and a sipof a Bloody Mary. But beyond that, I’ve never pushed to explore alcohol or teenage drinking. It’s not because it’s illegal–I’m not that much of a goody two shoes–it’s just that back at Dover, my friends weren’t into that scene. We were more of the girls who rentedMean Girlsand box dyed each other’s hair on a Friday night.
I glance over my shoulder at Reed, whose eyes are already on mine. My stomach flutters, and desire throbs between my legs.
