Page 39 of Girl Violence

Ian and Tyler laugh, and anger rages through her. “Yeah, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

Turning on her heel, Josette walks away from them. Going to the car with the drinks, she pulls a beer out from the boot. After popping the cap, she downs it in one go, hopefully, to eliminate all these crazy feelings bubbling inside of her. The main one is burning jealousy.

Josette grabs another bottle. Vince can do whatever he wants. Did she not say that to him? He isn’t hers, and she doesn’t care. He’s kissing a girl, so what? Josette can kiss someone if she wants to. She’s here for fun.

But even as she looks around the sea of familiar faces, trying to find someone—anyone—to have the fun she craves, she knows there’s only one person she wants to spend the night with. To have fun with, like they used to.

But he’s a lost cause.

Josette isn’t bothered about the kiss. Kisses can mean nothing. A distraction. To forget. She’s angrier that Vince doesn’t remember she was the only one to make him forget. Now he’s doing everything to forget her.

Josette decides to go home, vowing this is the last time she will ever show her face here again. Maybe she’s not meant to have fun this summer, or any, for that matter. Her destiny must be to become a librarian and get married to books like Miss Finn.

She leaves the party, the music eventually fading. It’s pitch-black now, but thankfully lamps are lighting the path she’s walking on—

“Josette?”

She screams and whirls around, seeing Vince’s silhouette behind her. She lets out a sharp breath, convinced she is going to die of heart failure if Vince keeps jumping out at her and her dad keeps telling her stories about dead girls. Her relief that it’s Vince and not a rapist quickly vanishes, though, and she scowls. “Leave me alone.”

“Wait,” he says to her when she goes to walk away. He grabs her hand when she doesn’t stop and forces her to face him. Josette’s breath catches in her throat, having no choice but to look up at him. At those stupid, beautiful eyes of his that are hazy and bloodshot.

He’s drunk.

“What do you want?” she asks, her heart slamming against her chest.

“Can we talk?”

Josette wonders if he’s joking. Last they talked, he told her she brings out the worst in him and that they should stay away from each other. How much has he had to drink?

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Things.” He pushes his hair away from his eyes, making it stick up.

“I don’t think there’s anything to say. Go back to the girl you were making out with, and we can pretend this didn’t happen, yeah?”

He chuckles bitterly and shakes his head. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? I can’t forget. There’s lots of shit to say between us, and it’s not coming out.”

“It’s you with verbal constipation, Vince.”

“You’re funny.” He stumbles over his feet, and Josette has no choice but to grab his arm to stop him from falling.

“How much did you drink? You’re wasted.”

“Not enough.” He stares down at her hand on him. “I didn’t...I didn’t mean what I said.”

“What?”

“What I said. Everything. I was...I was pissed that you brought that smug fucker to where we used to hang out.”

“And you think I wasn’t pissed off that you brought Elizabeth there?” she says, since they’re being honest, knowing he will probably forget about this tomorrow when he wakes up. “I didn’t know that fight years ago happened because of Jason, but I did invite him because of you. Because you’re a dick.”

He steps forward, she thinks to argue, but trips and topples to the floor.

“Hello, floor.” He groans, rolling onto his back.

“You need to go home.” Josette bends to help him. He grabs her arm, but his weight causes Josette to fall right on top of him. With a gasp, she clambers to get up. Vince bursts out laughing, and her face fires with heat as he keeps hold of her arm, making it impossible for her to stand.

“Vince!” she yells, getting annoyed. “You’re doing this on purpose!”

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