“The romantic one,” Dublin said. “Ain’t he sweet?”
“You buy them roses?” Aidan asked.
Dublin chuckled. “No, but I don’t sound like as big an asshole as you.”
“Jealous,” Aidan sang as he went for his next shot. “You old guys are just jealous.”
Good. This was all good. Nice and distracting.
Mercy reached to accept his beer from Briscoe, and the other member said, “I saw a buncha cars turning in up at Hamilton House this afternoon.”
“Kids having a party,” Dublin said. “I give ‘em till midnight ‘fore the cops break it up.”
“Last time they arrested two dozen of ‘em,” Briscoe said. “Andwe’rethe ones they wanna run outta town. Jesus.”
“Drunk puking kids don’t have a new gun shipment coming in next week,” Tango said. “That I know of, anyway.”
“Wait.” Aidan lowered his pool cue. “Ava went out with that little football douche tonight.”
Mercy paused with his beer halfway to his mouth. He conjured an image of Ava bent over the picnic table with the blonde kid. They made a pretty picture, so young and mismatched, soappropriate.
He wanted to throw his mug across the room.
“I bet they went to Hamilton House,” Aidan continued. “Where else does a football douche go on a Thursday night except where all the other douches go?” He grinned. “Props to the little sis for doing something fun for once.”
“Yeah,” Tango said, “it’ll be real fun when your pops is bailing her out later.”
“She won’t get caught.” Aidan leaned over the table again. With a small note of pride, he said, “She’s a Teague.”
Whoever was working the sound system had a thing for Nelly, and the walls rattled with it. Ava couldn’t hear anything save the bass line as it pounded in her ears and throat and up through the soles of her feet. The mansion boasted a wide entrance hall that ran from the front to the back of the house, and that was where she stood amid the jostling crowd, the curving cherry wood double staircases draped with streamers and heaped with students who talked, drank, laughed, and kissed and groped at one another. There were couples everywhere. And clusters of friends. Two buffet tables of snacks had been set up beneath the moldering, frameless mirror along one wall.
Ava held a Solo cup of keg beer she had no intention of drinking, and Carter floated at her side, their elbows bumping as the shifting crowd pushed them.
She felt his mouth touch her ear before he said, “You want something to eat?”
She didn’t, but working their way to the snack table would at least give them something to do. So far, this evening was a massive mistake.
“Sure,” she shouted back.
They worked their way to the table. The spread was Cheetos, two kinds of Doritos, Fritos, M&Ms, and some kind of sandwich that looked like it had a bad case of gangrene.
Sophisticated.
Ava tried to back away from the table, and stepped on someone’s foot. She felt the hard heel of her boot crunch down on something much softer. And then:
“Ow!” Someone slapped at her back. “Get off me, stupid bitch!”
Ava whirled around to find Ainsley Millcott standing on one leg, holding her smashed, sandal-clad foot in one manicured hand, her expression murderous.
“Keep your fucking dyke boots off me!” Ainsley snapped. “And get out of my way.”
Captain of the cheer squad, Homecoming Queen for their sophomore, junior, and no doubt senior years, already a shoe-in for the “best body” Senior Superlative, Ainsley Millcott had the foulest mouth and the ugliest heart of any girl Ava had ever met.
Ava was used to the abuse. She glanced around them, searching for an opening in the crowd, more than ready to escape this nightmare of drunken classmates.
“Did you not hear me?” Ainsley asked. “I said move!” Before Ava could respond, she shoved her, hard, and sent her careening back into the snack table.
The table’s rubber feet screeched against the old hardwood.
