“Wouldyou?”
“If I thought I could get away with it.”
He looks down at me with something close to camaraderie. “I like you, Cadence Cooper.”
I open my mouth to respond in kind when two figures come charging around the side of the house, cursing up a storm.
“Get your hands off me,” Christa hisses. She squirms like the snake that she is, caught in Paris’s tight grip.
The former queen bee is wearing a sparkly pink, one-shoulder mini dress. Her blond hair is wild around her face. There’s a scar on her lip from where she banged her chin into a locker after cornering me.
Paris hauls Christa into the backyard. “I told you not to show your face at my party, Christa. Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Who the hell…?” Christa chokes out a laugh. There’s a wine bottle in her hand and she whirls it around like a pointer. “I’m Christa Miller, the queen of Redwood Prep and you’re just my understudy.”
Paris flings her hair over her shoulder. “Not anymore.”
“You think you can just waltz in, take my friends, take my position on the team, take mylife? You’re a lying, back-stabbingskank!”
“At least I’m not a murderer!”
“That’s not true. I didn’t try to murder that—” Christa’s eyes land on where Sol and I are spying from the balcony.
Oh no.
Her eyes sharpen to daggers. “Having fun after ruining my life, Cooper?”
I back up a step. “I didn’t ruin your life, Christa.Youdid.”
Christa’s face changes into something ferocious and dark. She points a crooked finger. “You're the reason this is all happening. You're the one who opened your big mouth and snitched to the cops.”
She launches toward the balcony like a missile. Her fancy stilettos hit the wooden stairs in rapid beats.
I feel panic thick and pulsing in my mouth.
I have to get away from this crazy chick.
But when I set one foot inside the party, I notice Dutch coming down the stairs. His powerful shoulders are a mile wide. His head swings back and forth as he searches the crowd.
If he sees me standing on the balcony, he’s going to come over.
Trapped between a rock and a hard place, I take my chances with Christa.
I give her a wide berth, my eyes on the stairs. “Relax, Christa. I saved you from getting jail time. You should be thanking me.”
“You got me suspended!”
“Three days? That’s nothing but a slap on the wrist.” I edge down the stairs. “It could have been worse. Let bygones be bygones.”
“Screw you,slut!”
Christa makes a mad leap and lands on top of me. Her shriek of frustration is something out of a horror movie.
Freaking lunatic.
Without warning, she grabs my hair andyanks. My entire head snaps back with such force, I'm afraid that my neck is going to crack in two.
I grab her wrist, scratching, pulling, doing anything to pry her fingers from my hair.