Page 111 of Wicked Dreams

“Not saying he didn’t.” He pauses. “We have a game tomorrow.”

And Coach threatened to suspend me if I got in any more fights. I somehow got into not one—with Ian andwitnesses—but also tussled with Theo at the farmers’ market.

We move into the living room, close to the doors that lead out to the porch, so I can keep an eye on Margo. She’s with Riley, and so far, most of the guys here are leaving her alone.

She’s got a cup in her hand. While they sway to the music, she takes a sip. Then another.

I restrain myself from going to her.

Outside, boys are circled around a bonfire. The leaves are starting to drop, even if half of the trees in the county haven’t changed colors yet. The damp leaves catch the fire, and it seems like the whole lawn is moving.

My cup is empty, and Theo refills it.

“We’ll have to get the footage,” I mutter. “Bribe some people. It might not get back to Coach.”

Eli snickers. “He probably already knows.”

“Margo is a lightweight,” Theo says.

I jerk toward him. “What did you say?”

He points.

Margo’s holding on to Riley’s forearms, swaying, and her legs suddenly fold under her. She drags Riley down, and they both end up on the floor.

Shit.

I shove my cup into Eli’s chest and stalk across the party. I detangle her from Riley and lift her. Eli is right there with me, helping Riley up.

“You want some water?” I ask her.

She sighs. “No.”

I clench my jaw. “It’ll make you feel better.”

“I don’t think anything can make me feel better.”

“We call this self-destructing.” When her legs give out again, I scoop her up.

She latches on to my neck and peers into my eyes. Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips.

“I’m not,” she slurs. “Just…”

She got fucked up fast.

“Just what?”

“Washing away today.” She puts her cheek on my shoulder.

For fuck’s sake. “I’m taking you home.”

Riley lurches forward. “She can’t?—”

“Yeah, yeah.” I carry her out of the party.

Hoots and hollers follow us.

“People are mean.” She twists in my arms, gazing first at the onlookers, then at the arm curled under her knees. “Your knuckles are bruised.”

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