Page 120 of From Now On

“What?” she snaps.

“I’m sorry, okay? Really sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten involved or said any of that stuff.” He glances at me. “I didn’t mean to stir anything up, Eve. I just—I know Ben has been really broken up about you guys, and I… I was trying to look out for him. Maybe even get you to see you made a mistake. But you’re always welcome here, regardless of what’s going on with you and Ben.”

“Thanks, David,” I tell him.

He nods, then glances at Mary. “Will you come back inside? Please? We can watch whatever you want.”

Mary looks to me, clearly torn about what to do.

“We can hang out next weekend,” I say, solving her dilemma.

“You’re sure?” Mary questions, still uncertain. She clearly feels badly about staying behind.

I give her a quick hug. “Positive. Have a good night, guys.”

Then, I start down the familiar carpeted stairs for what I’m certain will be the final time.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

EVE

Parties are loud.Especiallyloud when you’re alone and everyone around you is shouting. I’ve never shown up to a party solo before, which was the whole point of coming tonight.

After leaving Ben’s, I went home. Ate dinner, and then—instead of yanking on sweats and flopping on the couch—I put on my sexy bow top and walked to Oak Street, only a few blocks from my house. Mary didn’t mention a specific address for the party, but I didn’t need one. It was pretty obvious where it was taking place.

Now I’m inside, clutching a cup of beer that’s mostly foam and second-guessing this impulsiveFuck itdecision.

Mary was busy. Harlow doesn’t get back until tomorrow. Most of my other friends are either connected to Ben or peers I’m only friendly during classes with, like Mae. Not people I can picture playing beer pong with.

It’s noisy and crowded and I know absolutely no one. Which is ridiculous, considering the total size of Holt’s student population. But if any of the faces around me don’t belong to total strangers, it’s too hard to recognize anyone in the dim lighting.

I manage to push my way through the packed kitchen and out into the backyard. I suck in greedy gulps of fresh air, then start coughing when I accidentally swallow a cloud of sweet smoke.

“Want some?” A lit joint appears to my left.

I cough again, waving a hand in front of my face to circulate some fresh air. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

“Suit yourself.” The joint disappears.

I glance at the guy next to me. He’s towering—more than a foot taller than me even though he’s slouched against the shingles. All I can see is his profile as he stares ahead at the group playing a drinking game in the backyard.

Another cloud of smoke drifts toward me. This time, I hold my breath until it drifts past.

“You a freshman?”

I should be offended by that assumption, I think. I’m not old enough that being mistaken for eighteen is a compliment. It’s more of a testament to my sad social status.

“Nope. Senior.”

“Really?” There’s surprise in his voice, and it sounds louder, like he’s looking this way, but I don’t glance at him to confirm.

“Really.”

“That’s cool. I’m Gates.”

Instead of a joint, a hand appears in my vision. I shake the offered hand, meeting his eyes this time. “Eve.”

“Wanna go upstairs, Eve?” Gates asks as soon as our hands separate.

---