Page 44 of No Place Left to Hide

I brush my hand against my nose, careful to flash the blood to anyone who’s watching. Half my palm comes away red. I gasp and scramble away from her. Felix tugs her into the living room, and inside, Beau grabs her other arm.

The tone of the party has shifted in an instant. There’s blood. She hurt someone. Claire’s games suddenly aren’t worth tolerating anymore. She’s crossed a line.

Like I knew she would.

All anyone in the living room would have seen of our confrontation was me standing beside Claire, smiling, and then her punching me in the face.

Sometimes she’s so…predictable.

I mentally pat myself on the back, even while my nose throbs and my eyes water. I muster up some more tears and they slowly well over my bottom lashes. This was always going to end in some kind of spectacle when we stepped out onto this fishbowl of a deck together. I’d be a total fool not to use that to my advantage and give them something to really talk about on Monday—only now, the story will be pro-Brooke and anti-Claire. As it should be.

This went better than I could have imagined.

Sucks that my nose is swelling up though.

I lean back against the railing and cup my hands above my lip. The blood pools rather impressively. A girl from my statistics class takes one look at me and careens back inside, suddenly less interested in kissing my ass now that I might bleed on her dress. Jena appears with a wad of paper towels from the kitchen and presses them against my nose.

“Jesus, she straight-up lost it,” Jena says. “What the hell happened out here?”

I feel the stares again. Half the party is inside and the other half spills out onto the deck, surrounding us. I shrug. “I have no idea. I was trying to talk things out, but I guess she had other ideas.”

Jena rolls her eyes. “I believe someone told you hours ago that something like this was going to happen. It always does with Claire.”

A few people in the crowd mumble their agreement.

“Yeah, yeah, you told me so. Next party I get a bouncer. Okay?”

She laughs. “Come on, let’s get you inside. You need some ice or you’re going to end up looking like Shayne fromLove Is Blind.”

“Oh my god, don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

I let Jena gently tug me to my feet. Suddenly, everyone is patting my back, squeezing my forearm, guiding me through the sliding glassdoor. I see faces from the dance team, the student council, the meddlesome sophomores, all pursed with concern. When I slip into the living room, I find Felix and Beau have an irate Claire boxed in by the entryway.

“This is bullshit!” Claire screeches. “She made me do it!”

“No, that’s enough. It’s time for you to leave,” Felix says, standing between her and the rest of the party. “I know chaos is your second language, Claire, but this is bad. Even for you.”

“Felix, she—”

“Go home,” Beau says, stepping up beside Felix. “You’re not welcome here anymore.”

I stop at the island and lean my elbows on it, holding the paper towels against my face. Someone’s rubbing my back between my shoulder blades, but I don’t look to see who it is.

Claire stares at Beau like he’s stabbed her in the back and then, ever so slowly, she turns to look at me. The tears I’ve been working on fall freely down my face, and Jena swaps my blood-soaked paper towels for a fresh bunch and a bag of corn from the freezer.

Claire points a chipped fingernail at me. “You bitch! You orchestrated this!”

I take a breath and stand up straight, letting the paper towel fall away so I can speak loud enough for all to hear. “This is why you weren’t invited! Tonight was supposed to be a fun way to blow off steam before school starts. We all just wanted to hang out with friends and have a good time, but you had to show up and ruin it. I hope you’re happy.”

The tears rush down my face, and so does the blood. I can taste it on my lip. Someone grabs the wad of paper towels and holds them back against my nose. It’s Dylan. He stares at me with worry in his eyes, and my heart soars.

“Here, let me help,” he says, wiping the blood from my cheek. “God, this looks bad. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you here with her.”

Suck it, Claire.

“You did this!” Claire yells, again trying to get around Felix.

The sophomores from the soccer team move to back him up by the door. Their chorus of “It’s time to go” and “Time to leave” and “You crossed a line” has me fighting a smile behind the bag of corn.

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