Page 10 of Beg for It
“Right, right.” He nods his head before stamping the inside of Josh’s wrist with a horseshoe symbol—not even bothering to check his ID. “That mean you’re not dipping to Riley’s tomorrow night?”
“Never say never,” he shrugs.
“Seriously?” I drawl.
It is one thing to sneak away tonight, but trying to escape the event where our mother plans to parade us around as her prized accomplishments? No freaking way.
“Blair?” Peter’s gaze slides to me, and his eyes widen as though he can’t believe the sight in front of him, before landing back on Peter. “Holy shit, dude, you got your sister out?”
I give a hesitant smile.
I have no idea who he is.
I try wracking my brain, but either this guy has undergone a serious glow up or I really haven’t met him before—which would be valid if he is just some random dude from one of the lower grades.
Peter takes my wrist and flips it over, pushing up the sleeve of my sweater to place the black stamp on the inside. He totally ignores the fake ID in my hand.
“Have fun, guys.”
He waves us in, and I stumble behind Josh, feeling a little discombobulated but relieved.
The bar is loud and packed to the brim. A quick glance around the room shows a decent number of familiar faces from high school. I have no doubt the people I don’t recognize are either underage high school seniors or people who graduated from the local public school.
“Joshy!” A high-pitched feminine voice cuts through the country rock music.
Josh grabs my hand as he weaves us through the crowd to a group settled in a booth that has a prime view of the entire bar. I easily recognize everyone sitting down as a close friend from his grade, including the owner of the voice that called out earlier, Marley Avix.
If Marley is here, that means—
“Oh my God, Blair?”
Michelle Avix sidles up to the booth with a glass of what I assume to be vodka soda—it’s always been her drink of choice since she started stealing liquor from her parents for the Fall Fling sophomore year. Her smile is bright, hair perfectly straight even with the humidity in the bar, and her skirt is an inch too short. I can’t help but grin. She hasn’t changed a bit.
“Hey, Michey.”
She drops her drink on the table and pulls me into a quick hug before stepping back and giving me a lengthy appraisal from head to toe.
“Bitch. I never would have bet money on you showing up here. I’ve known you since Pre-K, and this is the first time you’ve set foot anywhere outside of your house on Halloweekend.” She pins her stare on Josh. “What tricks did you pull to make this happen?”
“Nothing. Guess she just loves me more.” He shrugs, picking up the pitcher of beer from the table and pouring himself a glass.
“Ugh.” She rolls her eyes and grabs my hand. “Come on, we’re sitting in the next booth over.”
I pick up her forgotten drink from the table as she squeezes us past Josh. The glass is so full it almost spills in the process, so I drop my lips to the rim to take a quick swig, preventing it from sloshing everywhere.
Ew. Yup.
Vodka soda.
Might even be a double or triple, with that strength.
“Guys! Look who I found.”
Michelle wraps both hands around my arm and pulls me close, showing me off like a cat that got the canary. The group seated in the booth look up and then do an almost comedic double take.
“Fuck off. Is that Blair Hanes, or do my eyes deceive me?” D’Andre shoots up in record time, wrapping his muscular arms around my waist and lifting me a solid foot off the ground.
I feel some of the vodka soda go sloshing over my knuckles, but not even I can stop the force that is D’Andre Mac, former basketball captain of Almont Prep and soon-to-be captain of his college team, if rumors are to be believed. I’m surprised to see him here since they’re currently in peak season.
