Page 51 of Ominous: Part 1
Musicwith heavy bass blares from somewhere above us as we make our way up the exposed metal stairs. Eli reaches for me when the chunky soles of my boots slip on a step. His cool fingers circle my wrist, over the top of the rubber bracelets lining my arm.
I flinch. A reflex.
Then I tighten my grip on the slippery railing, my head held high even against the rain. There are Trafalgar students by the awning of the door, laughing and drinking, and while no one has ever made fun of me outright at my new school, I want to pretend I belong here tonight. Affecting confidence I don’t feel is something I taught myself to do last spring, when whispers and stares lingered everywhere I went.
I keep my head lifted high.
Until I turn to stare at Eli’s fingers looped around my wrist like they belong there. Like one of my bracelets. A protection charm not to saveme,but my secrets.
He pauses, one of his own black leather boots, laced in light gray, on the step above me.
Looking over his shoulder, he stares down at where we’re joined.
His eyes lift to mine.You’re mine.
I tilt my head.Show me.
A second passes. Rain dots along my temple, over the burgundy shirt Mom bought me that I’m wearing, laced up to my throat. A shiver courses down my spine at the look in Eli’s eyes, darkened with an emotion I can’t name, his hair growing damp in the storm.
Then, without a word, he releases me, and I can breathe again. Still, he waits until I’m beside him on the stairs to keep going, even as people call his name from the exposed balcony.
A few seconds later, and we’re under the awning, but there’re so many people smoking out here, we’re still getting soaked, despite Eli’s offer to grab a hoodie from his trunk, which I refused.
I knew I’d never give it back, and some people don’t like their things stolen.
Mercifully, the door is hauled open for us by a kid with a vape in his mouth and a beer in his hand, grinning despite all of it, and we step into the dark, red-lit room.
The music is as thunderous as the storm outside, “Save Me”by Hippie Sabotage. I’m a little surprised Dom has such good taste in music.
Eli is instantly swallowed up into the masses of people here, covered in expensive perfume and strong cologne, almost all of them with drinks in hand. The sharp tang of marijuana hangs heavy in the air alongside the fruity scent of vapes. I take in a large living space, shadows dancing along the red tinted walls, hardwood floors slippery from rain, long sectionals, people sitting and passing joints on short, poufy chairs. There’s a small kitchen with a fridge and drinks littered on the counter space, everything open plan, nothing like I’ve lived in.
Wherever I look, there’s alcohol and clouds of smoke and bodies pressed close together.
I shuffle over so I’m not right in the way of the door, and I press myself against a wall of exposed brick. I’m watching Eli greet people with a smile, letting people clap him on the shoulder, a few girls hugging him, and he wraps one arm around them, but his eyes drift over to mine when he does, and for now, I let it be enough. I vaguely recognize some of these people, and while I’ve become friendly with a few students at Trafalgar, I’m not close with anyone.
Still, I put on a smile, too, and a few people smile back, nodding at me with cups in their hands.
And after a few moments, Eli still making his way across the vast room to talk to people, someone speaks directly into my ear at my side, causing me to jump.
“Hello,Eden.”
I spin around, heart racing as I put my back to Eli, tipping my head up to meet Dominic’s blue gaze. He’s got a smirk on his face, a black polo beneath a zipped-up navy jacket, tan pants, dark gray slip-on sneakers. He looks like he just left a track meet, but I think it’s supposed to bestyle.
Dropping my gaze, I see he’s offering me a red plastic cup, full of something dark.
“I’m good,” I tell him, in reference to the drink, apprehension tightening in my chest. I don’t like to feel out of control of myself. It’s hard enough to take charge of my brain when I’m sober, and when I start drinking, it’s kind of hard to stop.
He brings the cup to his lips, taking a drink as he keeps his eyes on me. “You go to many parties, back at your old school?” His gaze sweeps over my body, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. But at the same time, I’m grateful to have someone to talk to.
I bring my fingers to my necklaces, the ones Mom bought me yesterday. I have a choker, silver with an inverted cross, a slightly longer necklace that saysPoisonin Gothic letters, and my ouroboros just below that. They’re all cheap metals, but I coated them in clear nail polish last night to keep them from tarnishing.
Dominic’s lake-blue gaze drops to my chest, and I grip my Poison necklace tighter.
“A few,” I say, in answer to his question. “You host many?”
He nods, taking another drink before he lowers the cup to his side, lifting his gaze to mine. “Either me, or…” He grins, flashing white teeth as he looks past me.“Him.”
I turn to follow his gaze, over the throng of boat shoe-wearing mini frat boys trying to talk their way into the pants of girls with perfectly arched brows.
