Page 149 of Scrimmage

He gives me a skeptical look. “He cares what you do.”

Bud saves the day, passing me a shot and leaning into me. “Sorry it took me so long. Got sidetracked. What are we talking about?”

“Bud!” someone shouts. “Come here and show this guy that tattoo I did on that coaster at fuckin’ Disneyland.”

His eyes scan me hungrily one more time, and he turns around to address the group. I take the moment to try to shake the alcohol from my system and pour the shot into a fake plant. I’m drunk. Very drunk. I head to the bathroom and lock myself in. Looking into the mirror, I can see that I’m a sweating mess, so I splash cool water on my face and try to get a grip.

Bud is definitely interested. I decide I'm going to fuck him. It’s not like Koda can do anything about it, and he has practically given his blessing by getting me drunk and leaving me with him in the first place. Plus, that girl was ready to fuck him in front of everyone. I’m allowed to distract myself.

After a few fists on the door demanding I get out, I finally leave, breezing past the line that has accumulated. I notice the Stacy and her friends giggling in the hallway and avoid them entirely. I take a lap around the party, but I don't see Koda anywhere. When I finally make it back to where I last saw Angel, she’s gone. Shit.

“Where’d Angel go?” I ask the girl she had been talking to. She points at the front door, and I panic. I’ve seen Angel pretty drunk, but Prince is engrossed in some conversation and this is breakup drunk. That’s different.

I shove my way through people and stumble outside. I hear someone retching. Low and behold, Angel is in the bushes, puking. I rush over, fall down in my drunken stupor, and grab her hair. We gotta go. I look around wildly trying to figure out what to do. I definitely can’t drive.

Would Koda really leave this party? I might be annoyed, but this isn’t about me. Angel will absolutely die if she wakes up tomorrow and remembers puking in front of Gavin. He’ll make her feel like shit, and she won’t break up with him. I go to pull my phone out of my pocket, but it’s not there. I left it at the shop. Fuck.

“I cannot be seen like this,” she frets, sitting down. I hand her my water, and she rinses her mouth out.

“You won’t be. I swear. I just gotta find Koda or something.”

It’s like he heard his fucking name. He appears in the doorway and sees us, analyzing the situation. He comes down the steps with sober ease. “Don’t fucking take off like that.”

“This isn’t the time.” I nod toward Angel.

His jaw tightens, but he reaches down and picks her up, then grabs me with his other hand. Without a word he stuffs her into the back of the car and then forces me into the passenger seat, pulling the keys out of his pocket.

“What were you going to do if the car was stolen?” he asks, the party disappearing behind us.

“I dunno. Figure it out.” I shrug.

“Wait, no, he’s drunk,” Angel whines from the backseat.

“He didn’t drink," I reassure her.

“Is she gonna throw up?” he asks.

“Nah, I’m good. Just need sleep,” she slurs, her eyes already closed. After a few moments of silence, Angel starts snoring.

“Where does she live?”

“Take the next exit and go left. First street on the right.” He nods, following my directions.

When we get to Angel’s house I dig her keys out of her purse, and Koda carries her inside. She lives in a little one bedroom apartment. It’s so cute inside, very much like her. I scribble a note quickly, telling her that we took her home and to call me when she wakes up. Then we tuck her into bed, leaving three bottles of water next to her. Koda and I are honestly a pretty good team.

“Put my number,” he mutters over my shoulder. “You don’t have your phone.”

“I don’t know your number.”

He rolls his eyes and grabs the pen, writing ‘Koda’s number because I’m being a nuisance’ then puts his number behind it. I want to deck him in the face, but I don’t have the energy to do anything except for frown. “I guess I’m not going home?”

“Not a chance.” He leads me out of the place and locks the door behind him, forcing me back into the car.

I stick my hand out. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“What? Are you hiding something? Don’t worry. I won’t text Stacy and company.”

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