Page 218 of Filthy Elites

Mallory lingers until I grab a drink—two, actually. There’s bottled water, which is what I grab, but she insists I have a real drink. She grabs bottles of liquor from behind the bar and makes me something herself.

I thank her and take the red Solo cup, then I make my way inside the house to look for my friend.

I find a lot of people inside—including one pair of definitely naked teenagers snuggled up beneath a fur blanket in the downstairs guest bedroom—but I don’t find Janie.

I suppose as many people as there are here, we may keep missing each other while we’re circulating. I find a corner off to myself where no one will bump into me, then I shift my drinks so I can reach into my purse and grab my phone.

I text Janie to ask where she is, but there’s no immediate response.

“Is that for me?”

I turn, startled, as a guy I vaguely recognize but don’t know the name of gets a little too close and takes the drink right out of my hand. “Um…” He takes a sip, watching me over the rim. “I guess it is now.”

He smiles, lowering the cup and moving closer. “I’m Kevin.”

“Hi, Kevin.”

“Aren’t you gonna tell me your name?”

“No.”

Inexplicably, he smiles like I’ve just said something sexy. “Hard to get, huh? I like it.”

I couldn’t be more turned off. “Not playing hard to get. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go look for my friend.”

I move around him and start heading back the way I came, but the guy follows me.

“I can be your friend.”

He says it like I’ll be enticed. I roll my eyes, hard. “No thanks.”

As aggressively as he began, I think he might keep coming, but fortunately, he seems to get the hint because when I look back, he isn’t there.

At least he took that drink I didn’t want off my hands. What a pal, that Kevin.

I check my phone once I get back out near the pool. There’s still nothing from Janie.

What the hell?

Someone shouts “hey!” behind me, but it doesn’t occur to me they couldpossiblybe addressing me until someone grabs my shoulder and yanks me around.

I have to look up, my eyes widening as I look into the angry red face of Kalea Danson. I was in a group project with her once, and back when I used to sit with people at lunch, we sat at the same table a couple of times, but we don’t really know each other.

She’s definitely looking atme, though.

Angrily. Very angrily.

“Um… me?” I question.

Her eyes narrow. “Who else?”

I’m so confused. “I don’t know. Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah.” She shoves me and I fall back a couple of steps—not only because I’m taken completely off-guard, but because Kalea Danson is the only girl on the school wrestling team.

She’s huge.

I’m not.

---