“Who asked you, Rivera?” Tate grumbles. He pulls a chair up to Franklin and shoves the vape close to his mouth. “Taste it, it’s so fucking good. It’ll give you such a nice buzz.”
Franklin’s already buzzed, his pale face red, and he looks from Tate to Brock and back again. “It’s not real cinnamon?”
“Definitely not,” Tate says. “I hate real cinnamon, but I love this stuff.”
I think about stepping in, but my head is spinning. I should’ve eaten more first instead of downing three beers immediately. The bullshit attack left me too unsettled, though.
I sit down as I watch the three of them.
I’ll have to teach Franklin how to fend off unwanted advances. From frat guys, I mean. I think? Maybe they aren’t unwanted. Also, I don’t think Brock or Tate are into guys.
It’s probably fine.
“Come on, do it. Be a man,” Brock says, then he starts laughing. Guess he’s had more than a few beers too.
I glance back toward Asch, Blaze, and Zayden. Blaze is openly scowling while Zayden talks, until Blaze snaps loudly, “I told you to fucking lay off, Zayden.”
I groan and get up, grabbing my plate with the half-eaten burger and moving closer to them. “Are you going to do the attackers’ job for them?” I demand, even though I know it’s none of my business.
Blaze rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t have to, if they hadn’t been pussies with paintballs.”
Zayden sneers openly at him. “You got a problem with me, maybe you should just fucking say it instead of trying to undermine me at every single fucking?—”
“I’ve got a problem with you!” Blaze snaps back. “Is that blunt enough for you?”
Asch sighs, taking a long drink from his bottle of water. He seems about to speak, but he casts a glance around us and closes his mouth, leaving Blaze and Zayden to their bickering.
“It’s because of that bitch, isn’t it?” Zayden gets up and gestures at me. “His slut girlfriend.”
I stiffen and take a threatening step forward. There’s a reason I’m not supposed to attack Zayden, but it’s hard to remember with how fuzzy my head is.
Oh, wait. Rachel.
I can’t get kicked out just for rearranging Zayden’s face, no matter how punchable that face is.
Blaze’s expression turns livid, and he gets up too, stepping into Zayden’s personal space. “You want to be very, very fucking careful what you say.”
Zayden crosses his arms, but he backs away a few steps. “Never thought I’d see the day Blaze Bouchard gets cucked by some no-name loser.”
“Shut up, Zayden,” Asch interrupts. “You’re fucking drunk.” Asch might be the only one in the vicinity who isn’t.
“In vino veritas!” Zayden shouts back. “That slut spreads her legs for all the guys, she fuckingstabsDeclan, but you defend her? She’s a used-up whore, a?—”
Blaze lunges forward, but Zayden is ready for the attack. He ducks back, running across the field while Blazetries to steady himself.
“How’s your dad going to feel if he knows that you’re slumming it with her?” Zayden calls out.
Slumming it? With Pandora Pavone? She’s too good for any of these fucking losers.
I itch to join Blaze.
Pandora isn’t a whore, or a slut.
She’s fucking beautiful, and exciting, and she’s fun, and…
I look down at my hand, with the bruised knuckles and the missing finger. I groan and rub my eyes.
I’m not supposed to like her.
