Page 12 of SNOB

“Can you pretend to be nice for once?” she whines, looking away from Gray’s R-rated show. Marisol moans, Gray’s hand reaching for her ass. “I had the worst day. Some Valley Vermin threw wine all over my silk Chanel.” Something tells me she deserved it. “Ryung's mom says it’s ruined.”

“I don’t care.” I never did and I’m not about to start now. Reaching for my phone, I check the score on the Golden Knight’s game, the numbers blurring. Tied.

Hannah ignores my comment, lighting us both up with her golden Zippo. “How the fuck does she think she could step foot into Sun House? That whore looks like a red mop on a loaf of bread. And freckles? That’s so last year.”

The bottle in my hand shatters against the concrete floor.

Hannah’s words linger, that night swirling back to my head.

Hannah’s head swings to me. “Mac?”

“Can you two get the fuck out?” Brushing my hair back with a sweaty palm, it feels like the alcohol hits me all at once.

Gray looks around, finally released from Marisol's lips. “For real?”

“Leave the yard. Now.” My voice raises by a thousand octaves. “Everyone.” It takes one signal to the DJ for him to cut the tunes. Our guests are smart. They don’t hesitate to take the party indoors, the pool clearing out in seconds.

Gray shakes his head, pulling Marisol with him. “Fuck that guy, I have something I want to show you and it’s the upstairs jacuzzi.” Marisol giggles, letting Gray pull her towards the glass doors.

“Not you.” Grabbing Hannah’s wrist makes her jump before she settles into my hold but that’s not what this is.

“Yes, Mac?” Her voice is softer as she flutters her sparkling lashes.

“That Vermin…” Am I really about to ask this? “What did she look like?”

Hannah’s shoulders drop. “I don’t know, Mac, like The Valley? Death?”

“Or dark green eyes that you think are brown but don’t notice the green until you really do. Like bloodstone. But for eyes.”

Hannah’s brows knit. “How did you?—”

“Did she get the job?”

She scoffs, “Of course, not. Beau Laval did. But Marisol saw Greta Fukushima talking to her and like… actually laughing when she went back to get her sunnies.” The thought of her laughing in Paradise Hill like she belongs here makes me grip Hannah’s wrist tighter.

Is her laugh loud and ruckus? Soft and raspy?

Doesn’t matter. I want to strangle it out of her.

“Hello? I thought you wanted me out here alone for another reason.” Hannah pulls from my hold before her hand comes to my chest. Her fingers walk up to pull on the collar of my black hoodie. I hardly feel it when she tugs at me, or puts her hand on my heated face.

All I see is her.

Years later and I’d still give it all to drain the life out of her.

“Mac!” It’s only when Hannah squeals that I realize my hand is around her throat, her back pressed against the rail. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Lifting up her skirt, that mess of red takes over the back of my lids. She’s as crazy as her hair. Reckless and negligent. That red hair blinds me from the inside as heat flows through me.

“Is this what you want?” My free fingers press into her thigh. “You want to be my whore for one extra night, is that it?” Tugging on her hair doesn’t give me the release I need as she squeals my name again. “Is this what you were expecting? Me to plow your needy cunt, right out here for everyone to see?”

“Mac…” Hannah gasps. “If you’re this riled up, let’s maybe take this to the bedroom?”

Hannah’s request crashes me down to earth. “Too bad you fucked my best friend.” Releasing her I step back, my mouth twisted. “Get your prissy cunt out of my sight. It stinks.” Hannah wobbles when she stands, straightening her hair. “Leave. Now.”

“You’re still a fucking psycho,” she spits. Pulling another cigarette from her pack, she finally walks away.

“That’s a bit of an overreaction, McKinsley, even for you.” Ryung appears from taking his call, watching as Hannah joins the rest of the party. “Who hasn’t had their share of threesomes?”

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