Page 23 of True Blue

“Leave her alone, Gwenivere,” a large, white-haired guy says, walking up from seemingly nowhere and standing behind the couch that the girl from Algebra and her friend sit on. He’s our age, with a barrel chest and tree trunk waist. His snow-white hair falls to his shoulders, the top half held back in a small bun at the back of his head. Stubble lines the edge of his sharp jawline, dark despite his fair hair. His eyes flash in the moving strobe lights that seem pitch black with his brows pulled over them but lighten to an icy blue when the light hits his face.

Gwen steps back toward us, and Layla whispers, “Tanner,” under her breath to me.

Mira leans back to look up at him, and loses her balance, tipping toward the floor. Bentley flinches toward her, but the girl from my Algebra class beats him to it, grabbing her arm and holding her up for a second before she sits back up, facingthe three of us. Gwen puts her hands on Mira’s shoulders as she sways a bit, keeping her steady.

“You need water,” she says, helping Mira up off the chair and toward the kitchen. We all follow, Bentley ending up beside me in the space between the cabinets and kitchen island. He watches Mira, eyes not even glancing my way while Gwen pours water into a solo cup. I lean on the island and away from him, folding my arms to avoid the urge to touch his next to me. Gwen hands Mira the water, looking over at Layla and avoiding the glare Tanner is trying to drill through her head.

“This is my sister Layla.” Gwen grabs Layla’s arm, pulling her closer while she frowns. Bentley folds his arms over his chest next to me.

“Mira,” she yells. “Nice to meet you.”

“Okay,” Tanner cuts in, crowding in closer to Gwen and clenching his fists at his sides. “She got her water. Time to go, Gwenivere.”

Mira side-steps between them, leaning back against Tanner. “It’s okay, Tan. She’s not bothering me.”

He looks down at her, raising one eyebrow. “Don’t let Ramsey see you get any more drunk.” He walks away after that, not even sparing a glance at Gwen who practically shakes with nerves. We all watch Mira take a few more gulps of water, leaning against the island for support.

Noticing all our eyes on her, she glances over at the two girls from the couch, who now stand off to the side behind her where Tanner just left from. “This is Autumn and Aria,” she says to Gwen, pointing to the curvy girl before reminding me of the girl from Algebra’s name. “They’re freshman on the third floor at West Tower.” Gwen turns toward them, immediately starting a conversation about how they’re liking their RA Keith.

I glance over at Bentley, whose eyes are still firmly fixed on Mira before deciding to keep my eyes solely on Gwen to stop myself from doing so again.

“Nicely done,” Layla whispers to Mira. “She’s a bloodhound.” Mira looks confused so Layla leans in. “Hard to distract when she’s got the scent.” She smirks, and Mira smiles. I feel a pang of guilt, happy that Layla is good at meeting new people, but sad that I don’t have the same talent.

“You go to the Coast?” Mira asks. Bentley shifts his weight beside me and I step closer to Layla to stop myself from noticing his every move.

Layla nods. “Liberal arts for right now. I'm trying to figure out what I want to do, and dear old dad didn’t want me just lazing around the house while my brother and sister got degrees.” She shrugs. “At least now I have J here to keep me company.” She sneers over at me, and I flip her off.

Bentley steps forward and knocks his shoulder against mine, jostling me. “Ease up, Little Miss Sunshine. Try having fun.”

The jab stings, reminding me of our first encounter in the dorm. I glare up at him. “I’m fun.”

Mira snorts and even Layla snickers a bit. I turn my glare onto her.

She shrugs, only half attempting to stop smiling. “Come on, J. You haven’t even had a drink since we got here.”

I attempt to stave off my outrage, but the sting lingers. I give in, looking around the kitchen for something alcoholic. Unfolding my arms, I reach out across Bentley to grab a half empty bottle of expensive looking vodka. Looking at Bentley, who raises an eyebrow, then Layla and Mira, I uncap the bottle, take a long drag, and force myself to swallow against the burn in my throat. My face screws up once I finish, my tastebuds protesting the aftertaste. “Fun enough for you?” I ask, sneering at Bentley.

He laughs, moving between the group and toward the fridge. I glance around again, grabbing a solo cup from the plastic wrapped stack sitting on the counter. Pouring two or three shots into the glass, I feel a jolt of heat when Bentley’s hand covers mine, taking the cup from me.

“Why don’t we try mixing it with something?” he says, pouring orange juice in over the vodka. I cap the bottle, setting it back on the counter before taking the drink from his hand and staring him down over the rim of the cup while I drink a huge gulp. He smirks, watching me. The sweetness of the juice masks the burn of the alcohol and I hold my composure this time.

Lay chuckles, grabbing her own cup and pushing it toward Bentley who pours in half the amount of vodka I did and then covers it with juice as well. Layla takes it, sipping slower than I did as well.

“I need to pee,” Mira says. “I’ll be back.”

Bentley nods, leaning back against the counter. “I’ll be here. You’re not back in ten, I’m coming to look for you.”

Mira nods, wandering off into the crowd of people around us.

I drink more of my screwdriver, warmth sliding down my throat and nestling in my belly. It loosens my limbs and I feel myself relaxing. Layla winks at me, glancing at Bentley before turning to join Gwen, Autumn, and Aria in their conversation. I grit my teeth, thinking of ways to get her back for this later as I pour the rest of the drink down my throat. Slamming the cup on the counter, I pull the alcohol over and prepare another vodka heavy screwdriver.

“Whoa, slugger. Slow down,” Bentley says, reaching over and taking the vodka bottle from my hand after I fill almost half the solo cup with it.

“Thought you wanted me to have fun?” I reach past him for the orange juice, pouring it into my cup.

“You just need to loosen up, not blackout tonight.” He turns around, putting the vodka away in the top of a tall cabinet.

I glare up at him when he turns back. “I’m not going to blackout.”

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