Page 118 of Raise Hell

Twenty-Three

Another night,and another party at Havoc House.

Except this time, I’m showing up as the girl Drake Van Koch has been dating exclusively for the last month.

I’m a queen with a crown made of fool’s gold.

The freshman guy at the door doesn’t bother to ask who I am as he swings open the door.

Apparently, my reputation precedes me.

Anya crowds up behind me as we walk inside, practically bouncing with excitement on her platform heels. I let her choose our costumes, so we just ended up in sexy dresses with animal ears. She has on all zebra stripes.

I think I’m supposed to be a cat, because I told her she needed to find something to match the black, long-sleeved dress I was going to wear no matter what. Felicia follows behind her. I’m surprised she decided to come considering what happened last time, but she insisted. The bunny ears and fuzzy ball she has pinned to the back of her gray dress are actually kind of cute.

The party is already in full swing when we step inside.

Loud bass pounds against my eardrums, so loud I can feel the pulse of it in my bones. A Havoc Boy carrying a giggling girl over his shoulder nearly crashes into me on their way to the stairs.

In the living room, a large projector screen is set up against the far wall. Right now it’s playing a highlight reel from the rugby championships. Apparently, we won. I can’t tell if the sound is on over the dull roar of voices in the room.

“You made it.”

I turn. Drake stands behind me, an unreadable expression on his face. He is dressed in a pinstripe suit and wearing a fedora like some 1920s gangster. All the outfit needs to be complete is a Tommy gun.

“I did.”

When I smile at him, he returns the gesture.

But the smile doesn’t reach the eyes trained intensively on my face.

“Come with me, we’re hanging out in the kitchen.”

“Sure…”

His hand comes to rest on the small of my back, propelling me forward.

Anya and Felicia trail behind us.

The kitchen is packed wall to wall with people. Practically every Havoc Boy and most of their hangers-on crowd all the available space.

“Coming through.”

Drake barely raises his voice and the crowd parts, creating a path for us.

Nolan has turned the kitchen table into a makeshift bar. Liquor bottles of all sorts decorate the surface. He picks one up and pours a hefty amount into a cocktail shaker.

“Want one?” His gaze moves over me, and a wicked smirk twists his lips. “Or maybe I can scrounge up more Havoc Delight.”

“I’ll take a whiskey. Straight up.” The last thing I’m going to do is let him mix anything for me. “And I hope you’re not expecting a tip.”

His eyes narrow. “Coming right up. Although a tip is more than you’re going to get if you keep running that mouth.”

“You know, a service job is a good look for you. But just so you know, a good waitress usually smiles more.”

“Bitch—”

“Thanks, man.” Drake interrupts as he takes our drinks. He hustles me away before Nolan and I come to blows. “Pissing him off on purpose probably isn’t a good idea.”

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