Page 18 of Our Ruined Beginnings

“So, are you in?”

I force my attention back to Kinsley, pushing the stray thoughts to the back of my mind. She must read the confusion on my face, as she shakes her head and lets out a soft sigh.

“I lost you in your head again, didn’t I?”

I wince, offering her a small shrug. “Little bit.”

“Harper, what am I gonna do with you?” she asks with a chuckle. “There’s a party in one of the off-campus houses tonight. A girl in my sociology class was telling me about it, and apparently, it’s gonna be ‘off the hook.’”

I snort. “Who even says that anymore?”

“Not me. But I’m quoting, so…”

My brow knits, and my nose crinkles. “I don’t know, Kins. I’m not really sure a party is a great idea right now.”

“Why?” she asks, her lips pursing.

“Does the title ofmost hated girl on the planetring a bell?”

“Seriously?” she deadpans, her eyes narrowing as the blue turns glacial. “You’re really gonna let a bunch of idiots who don’t know the first thing about you decide how you spend your time? These people aren’t worth another thought. This is your life too, Harper. And, okay, shit got bad and you made some mistakes, but you’re here. You’realive.Don’t give them the power to take that away from you.”

“It’s not that simple—”

“I’m not pretending I understand how you feel, or what goes through your mind,” she says, fiddling with the straw that sits in her soda glass. “But I can’t watch you wither away either. What they’re doing—it isn’t right. And it’s really only a handful of people, definitely not the whole planet. Not even the whole student body. The Harper I know, she’d never take what they were saying lying down. She’d put on her tightest dress, pick out her highest heels, and show them they don’t mean shit.”

I pull in a harsh breath as her words pummel at my defenses. “What if I’m not the same girl anymore, Kins? Everything’s different now.”

She hums noncommittally, a small smile playing on her lips. “Maybe … or maybe you’re feeling too chickenshit to stand up for yourself, which is where I come in. Do you really think you deserve everything they’re throwing at you?Reallydeserve it? As if every person on this planet hasn’t made some shitty mistake at some point in their life.”

The answer is on the tip of my tongue, but she stares pointedly at me, her brow raised. I sigh, not really knowing the answer anymore. A part of me believes I do, but then another part—a smaller and more quiet part—knows that had I known what could happen that night, I’d have never made the choices I did.

It was a terrible mistake, one I’ll punish myself over for the rest of my life. But does that really mean I deserve the punishment of others, too?

“Do it for me?” she pleads, her eyes softening as she takes in the frown on my lips. “At least think about it, okay?”

I nod but make no promises. I’m not entirely sure a party is the best place for me to be right now. Whether I stand up for myself or not, it doesn’t make them hate me any less. So why on earth would I willingly walk into their territory like I’m not their prey?

Chapter Eight

Madden

Myeyesareassaultedby strobe lights the moment I step from the Uber. Evan’s car is parked to the right, so I guess he’s already decided to hook up with … whoever’s party this is. I can’t even remember.

Strewn bottles litter the front yard, and the stench of weed grows thicker the closer I get to the open door. As I push through the lingering partygoers smoking and drinking outside, I dig into my pocket and tug out my flask. Bitterly cold vodka sears my tongue as I swallow generously, relishing in the burn.

I used to love to party—the vibes, the music, enough alcohol to sink a ship—but now I can’t think of anything worse. They aren’t fun anymore.

Nothing seems fun anymore, but especially not this.

I bypass the house, moving around the gate and into the yard. As expected, my friends are spread out over the daybeds, watching the commotion through the open double doors that lead into the kitchen.

“Hey, dude,” Evan calls as I make my way over. His eyes are glazed and his movements slow as he offers me the half-smoked joint in his hand before tipping his head back and exhaling a cloud of rings into the sky.

“What time did you get here?”

He shrugs lazily. “A while ago. What took you so long?”

“I had shit to do,” I offer, not bothering with the truth.

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