Jane’s in Redfield, Chris isn’t here, Mom’s gone, and all that’s waiting for me at home is just empty, cold darkness. And my father.
I sit down on the sidewalk, stretching out my legs, feeling the chill on my arms. My hand finds my phone in my pocket, and I pull it out to dial Chris.
My fingers hesitate over the button, Luke’s words echoing in my mind.
What if he’s with someone else right now?
“Leaving already?” Chris’ voice startles me, and I turn to see him joining me on the sidewalk, taking a sip from a flask.
My heart quickens, coming alive as soon as I see him. He glances at me, offering his flask with a smirk. His eyes are weighed down, and his crooked smile lets me know he’s drunk.
Without thinking, I accept the flask from him and take a sip, feeling the alcohol burn down my throat.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” he asks.
“Where were you?” I ask him, handing back his flask.
His fingers brush against mine briefly as he takes it, and drinks. “Around,” he replies with a shrug.
“Around,” I echo, thoughts of him with other girls swirling in my mind. My heart aches at the idea, but I push forward. “With who?”
Chris shakes his head, his dark, curly hair falling across his face. I have the urge to brush it back, to run my fingers through it and stare into his chocolate-brown eyes.
“I just needed some fresh air,” he deflects, completely avoiding my question.
Was he alone?
“Me too,” I reply with a sigh, my shoulders slumping. “It was getting stuffy in there.”
“Yeah,” Chris mutters, his jaw tense. “It definitely was.” He takes another sip from his flask and looks at me intently. “Where’s your boyfriend?” he asks again. “Does he know you’re out here alone?”
I exhale heavily. “I don’t think he’d care.”
Chris furrows his brows. “Why not?”
I lick my lips nervously. “Because he broke up with me.”
“Oh.”
I nod, glancing at the flask in his hand. He passes it to me without a word.
“Turns out he just asked me to prom to sleep with me,” I say bitterly before taking a large gulp.
“What a piece of shit,” Chris says, shaking his head.
I hum, swallowing the alcohol. “Apparently there’s a rumor,” I continue.
“A rumor?” Chris asks, concerned. “About you?”
I face him with an amused laugh. “And you.”
His frown deepens, blinking a few times, and I continue with a laugh. “Apparently I’m a slut who uses guys to make you jealous.” I bite my tongue, meeting his gaze. It’s not the whole truth, seeing as I only discovered my feelings for Chris recently, but Luke wasn’t entirely wrong. I didn’t say yes to Luke’s prom invitation because Ilikedhim. But it was more about my frustration that Chris couldn’t see how I felt about him.
Chris swallows, his expression flashing with anger. “He called you a slut?”
I shrug, taking another sip from the flask. “Not just him, apparently.” The burn of the alcohol sends a shiver through me. “I don’t know, maybe they’re right, I—”
“Don’t,” Chris interrupts firmly. I turn to him as he grasps my wrist, his face twisted. “Don’t call yourself that. Don’t agree with those assholes. They don’t know you.”
