Page 72 of Beautiful Defiance

“Aw, I’m so sorry, Leigh.” She stops and pulls me in for a hug. “Family can be messed up, right?”

“Isn’t that the truth?”

She lets me go and nods at the huge house nestled in the woods. “Ready to party?”

I glance at the house with the wall of windows and the wraparound deck. Kids are dancing, drinking, laughing. Things I want to do. First, I have to find Hannah. I let Rue tug me to the house. The majority of the kids are from Delridge. I recognize a handful from Cambridge. They stare but don’t acknowledge me.

Rue sticks close by my side, but I can tell she is antsy and wants to hang out with her friends. The group of girls is by the table of food, talking. On a chair on the other side of the table, next to a tall, willowy blonde in a pretty fuchsia red dress, is a small laundry hamper that is more tall than wide. Rue looks where I’m looking.

“That’s where they’re keeping the prize money for whoever wins the scavenger hunt. You have to put in fifty dollars, and they’ll give you a ticket.”

Henry didn’t mention that part to me.

“Crap. I didn’t bring cash.”

“I did. I’ll buy your ticket.”

“Thanks, Rue. If I win, I’ll split the winnings fifty-fifty.”

“No need. Just give me back the fifty.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m glad you came with.”

So am I. Being here is a change from the loneliness I feel when I am in my place. The silence is deafening without Seven’s presence filling up the space.

“Hey, I’m going to get a drink.”

“Want me to go with?”

“I’ll be fine. Go talk to your friends.” I tip my chin at the girls by the table.

“I should introduce you—”

“Go. Be gone.” I give her a gentle push toward her friends. “I’ll text you if I need a babysitter.”

“I’m your bodyguard.”

“Or a cockblocker in disguise.”

“Anything but that. Text me if you need help out of a bind.” Phone in hand, she waves.

I blow out a quiet breath. Finally. I can go look for Hannah, but I feel bad that I didn’t go with Rue and meet her friends.

Vowing that I’ll ask her for an introduction later, I hurry inside the house. My across-the-shoulder small bag whaps my hip. No matter where I go, I keep my EpiPen and my cell with me.

I go in through the sliding glass door and find myself in the kitchen. There’s a guy next to the fridge. He’s older, probably in his early to mid-twenties, with reddish hair and bright-blue eyes. In his hand is a red plastic cup. In the other is an e-cigarette. He takes a long drag, then blows out smoke.

“Party’s out there. There’s no need to come inside unless there’s something other than food and beer you’re after.” His gaze roves over my body.

“The bathroom,” I say, staring back at him.

A hint of a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. “What’s your name? Never seen you at one of these shindigs.”

There’s no harm in giving him my name.

“Nice to meet you, Leigh. Name’s Austin.”

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